#to your eternity soundtrack | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yojeongin · 3 months ago

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I remember everything | j.jh

→burnt-out writer!jaehyun x host f!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, summer fling, found home, strangers to lovers to strangers again, missed connection, 80's au

synopsis: jaehyun didn’t think meeting you in that quaint lonesome countryside town would come in between him and writing something hopeful and lively in contrast to all of his gloomy work. in fact it was a blessing to have someone help him navigate the foreign country. yet life always has something up its sleeve no matter how soul crushing.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mentions/implementations of poor mental health, abusive higher ups, mentions of bad parenting, unprotected sex.

wc: 28.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are ONLY characters. read at your own discretion.

an: summer is gone and I tried posting this for the past 2 months so here is an ode to the place that inspired it all.

The contents of the box had been sitting unwrapped for what felt like an eternity after recalling last week’s events. The miscellaneous items your family sent were a recurring sight but it was rare that Ollie sent you anything besides his letters.

What disturbed you most is his choice of item. Those bold scripted yellow letters mock you. You weren’t upset with him, you could never be upset with him. You know it’s not his doing, that he was put up to it. What upsets you is the resurfacing thoughts you had hid away in the vault of your memory years ago when you remained naive and to your disgrace revived with one detail.

Courage was the last thing in you. It surged through, more so forcibly, perhaps even masochistically. That seems correct because the second you open to the first page, images you believed you would never see, fly out, reminding you of a life that you can only describe as a daydream.

Every single image had something written in the back of it. You attempt to refrain from reading each note. With no avail, the loops of his handwriting draw you in as much as his piercing gaze and the smile you still dream about – those dimples you can’t forget no matter how much you now look at them on someone else.

There’s a folded letter slotted before the dedication page. It smells like him and you can’t help being transported to the summer you met him. The pleasantly strong cologne you could smell even in the masses of stench when cleaning the pen. Or through the window you two sneaked kisses at night.

You don’t want to cry, you truly try not to, yet the waterworks flow when you finally focus on the dedication page of this damned book.

‘To the life I needed all along… I remember everything.’

Jaehyun remembers with fondness the tranquility of what he considers home. The warmth that filled his chest with every waking moment he spent in that beautiful quaint village. And now looking and thinking back at it, that fondness muddles with the pain in his heart. That’s not what he wants nor needs, that’s not what he came here for.

Jaehyun could get behind it, it was nice. He immediately got used to the cool breeze which felt more like a chilly autumn rather than the grueling summer. He could definitely get used to the smell of wood burning from stoves and chimneys that indicated locals began their day. Similar enough to the rough housing from goats and sheep’s bleats to roosters for them to shut up, that the sun was enough of a wake up call.

Fairly loud, not nearly as much as the city. It was one thing to admire the beauty outside of his temporary residence. Bougainvillea vines, flamboyant and bright, purloining his attention to let him know they were the star of the show, overshadowing any other house around.

Jaehyun needed something and all he knew was that he had to escape the constraints of his overpopulated and 24/7 bustling city that has cursed him to hell multiple times for not giving it a heartfelt ovation. How could he when he’s been shown nothing but hatred from it since he stepped foot in that hell hole?

Things should be different here, he knows that – he’s been shown.

His taxi driver spoke idly about his day. Describing the breakfast his wife had made before he left. His daughter had visited to drop off their grandson while she went to work at the local market but in the process the kid had fallen down the steep steps claiming all he wanted as comfort was to spend time with his ‘Tito’. So there he was making rocket sounds and hammering the glove compartment with the pale sun-eaten toy car that caused his fall. In the process, turning back to Jaehyun asking if he liked dishes he had never heard of before that the kid didn’t like himself.

Jaehyun remembers it well.

How can such a beautiful place bring him agony?

He wanted to stray away from those pessimistic feelings that had shackled him for years, tainting every single one of his pieces. When his publisher and manager told him it would be best to go somewhere he’d know nothing about his world, to have time to think about a new story, he was the first one to say goodbye, muttering under his breath that he wished he’d never see them again. Jaehyun was elated to know he was given a golden ticket out.

The past few launches and expectations had been hectic. Drowning him with stress and though many would think being a successful writer at such a young age was all fun and games, they'd think otherwise when your team is hollering in your ear daily to come up with new content and critics claiming you’ve yet again failed to provide anything meaningful besides pretentiousness.

Jaehyun is tired of that dark monotonous and consuming cycle they’re forcing him to be in. So he’s hopeful and excited to see what this beautiful rural village can bring him. Hopeful that it’ll break those shackles of misery that cling to him until his ankles bruise and bleed. Hopeful to find meaning to this life that he’s been searching for.

Struck with awe throughout his entire trajectory down the cobble and dirt-filled path from midtown to the house, the animal noises he had managed to drown became louder upon pushing open the metal door, growing wary. When he finally crossed the threshold he was met with the image of someone tussling with a ram, enough to get tackled and Jaehyun can only explain that feeling as freight.

That was the first time he met you.

From far away and with his feet grounded in fear, the fear you didn’t have regardless of all those rammings. That must’ve hurt, Jaehyun thinks so. How could it not? The beast came in charging three times, each making the impact seem worse. Twisted horns able to bruise the skin of your thighs.

Every step closer increases his shock. Muffled groans and curses from you mixed with laughter from your grandfather that stood and watched. Neither of you blame him, being the victim of that damn thing at 80 had caused irreparable damage to his hip. There’s nothing he could have done. At best he mangles the rope beside the stake, swinging it in hopes of getting it off you.

Jaehyun felt inutile. He had no experience with animals nor with any labor besides what his father would drag him into. It’s not his fault he became a writing prodigy. His brute strength was useless if he was too scared to jump into the pen to help you.

It was more shocking when a scrawny boy in a simple white tee, dusty jeans, heavy work boots just as muddy had pushed through him. Yelling something he couldn’t understand but later found it meant “Get the fuck out the way!” He didn’t mean to be malicious but he was scared himself. Jumping over the pen’s fence and pulling the damned ram off of you, he slaps its rear as a form of discipline. It amazes Jaehyun how effortless he made it look.

Finally free and things having calmed down, Jaehyun saw the elderly man seize his laughter. Genuine tears slip from his eyes. He was scared, truly scared it could have been your end. Having experienced it himself, he couldn’t help both sympathize and feel guilty. You and the kid reassured him it was fine. It wasn’t a first but your grandpa wouldn’t hear it, sighing as he continued to sob.

Jaehyun later found that he was insanely sensible. Laughing things off to calm himself to eventually break down.

In attempts to ease his pain, you had sent the young boy to fetch your grandpa a coke and some bread.

Nowadays, Jaehyun consumes those items whenever he grows scared

Making your way with a limp that your grandfather mimicked due to his own attack and age, Jaehyun finally approaches you both, voice slightly quivering.

“Are you alright?!” Jaehyun quips, your head turns to him un-amusedly. Cautious but relaxed for whoever’s sake. “Yeah… it’s not the first time.” You try to smile at the stranger who is obviously not from the village inside the premise of your grandparent’s home. It only dawned upon you who he was when you noticed the pristine suitcases in his hands. Holding the handles like a lost victorian count in search of a new start in the bustling dirty city – despite the contrast.

“You’re the new tenant, right?” You ask, limp finally gone after something cracked. Jaehyun winces, amused with the nonchalant tone in your voice; he nods fervently. “Yeah, um, I can pay for a few months up front if you don’t mind.” Neither of you had noticed that both had stopped walking, your grandpa already in the house, leaving you to speak with the young and attractive man before you.

“Months?”

Jaehyun nods. “If you don’t mind or have another tenant.” He feels sheepish; confident in your eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s been open for months.”

It’s amazing to him how you’re acting like you didn’t almost need a ride to the nearest hospital. Seeing the limp gone and crouching down to pick up a bucket full of dry corn kernels like nothing. He could have believed everything he saw didn’t really happen.

It’s recurring if he thinks back to it, how everything felt so fleeting and surreal. He despises and feels it mocking him daily.

Following you around like a lost puppy while you sprinkled the ground with those kernels, he took note of the expression on your face. You’re still in pain, it’s written all over the movements you make. He rules you’re ignoring it to not seem ill before him or specifically to reassure your grandfather.

Jaehyun has a strong image in your eyes. It would crumble with just about anything and you felt comfortable figuring that out. Just like it has done now, with chickens rushing and flooding the area to gobble down their meal. Jaehyun was startled and scared they’d peck him in the process.

You try not to laugh despite the giggles leaving in spurts. Nearing the kitchen door, you stop in your tracks to look at him. “Don't worry about the pay, it won't be necessary.” It troubles him and this time he won’t hold his thoughts. Well, he wasn’t going to but as soon as his lips parted, the sprint door opened, showing a much shorter and pudgier older woman. He reckons that’s your grandmother so he smiles and greets her accordingly.

She accepts it, returning the favor before going back to business in handing you the bowl full of pepper seeds and stems to feed the chickens. That left him and your grandmother alone, inviting him to the kitchen.

He studied the kitchen upon crossing the threshold, admiring the huge chimney in the right corner, soot covered it along the boiling metal bucket of water. There was a chair in front of it, one of those school chairs that cling onto your hair until it’s off your scalp.

A metal cabinet in between the entrance door and the hallway. It’s dusty, showcasing fine china that was never used. He found the cracks above the very tall ceilings the most enchanting, all leading to portraits above the hallway’s threshold. Trajectory and lineage demonstrated through the years. Most recently: one of you with your diploma.

Beautiful. Utterly beautiful, he thought.

“Come, I’ll show you around.”

The tour was simple, the hallway that connected the main room and kitchen was a room in itself. Privacy wasn’t really an option within these walls but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one sleeping in the main house.

All he had to know about this house was that it was an old canteen that your grandmother’s father bought for her as a wedding gift. The hallway had a bed your grandfather slept on, a couch he sat to watch the TV propped on top of a dresser in the main room –where he’d join him often– and a door that led to the guest’s area.

Despite the open concept, she didn’t show him the room where you and her slept in. He caught a glimpse of a door to the only restroom in there –restroom with a window he would spend his nights at often–, a vanity you both filled with expired products, and two beds on opposite sides. He figures the one with a pristine Garfield plush was yours.

Jaehyun felt the clarity of finding home within these few minutes. It was summer and the house was freezing without a clunky AC unit, he was in heaven if you asked him. It felt cozy and he liked that it wasn’t stuffy like his apartment back home, it felt like love. Cold, unspoken care and love.

The tour ended by the time both reached the guest area. The door was open after you swept but things never lasted clean here, the entrance full of dust again. Your grandmother looked tired and apologetic that she couldn’t continue, reassuring him his room was fine, warranting her to yell your name and rushing to her side.

She asks you to show him, motioning for him to follow you with your head. It felt like a full circle when you both hopped down the step from the house to the courtyard. He looked at the threshold he entered through, the door was closed now, decorated with flowers made out of dust, crafted by Ollie when he had free time. Your grandfather sat on a chair near the pen with the young man, eating his bread and smoking a cigarette that he pretends to hide.

Following you, Jaehyun took notice of the mountain of rocks and flowers near his room. A monument to a holy being he had only seen a few times. It was beautiful, vibrant flowers in comparison to the rocks. Some cactus and critters roam on small trinkets and a river flows up and down each rock.

Jaehyun finds himself behind a wall of jacarandas which cover the entrance to his room. The door unlocks with a screech, Jaehyun, hopeful it was just as inviting as the home only to be shortly disappointed when it felt warm inside and the walls maintained a darker hue. It was newly made, it lacks love.

Sensing his hesitance, your voice aims to distract him. “It’s not much, the bed is new if you must know. My uncle should bring in the TV but in the meantime you have free reign to the boombox or the kitchen’s.” Apologetic smile decorating your face. “You can open the window if it gets hot, Ollie is fixing up the fan. Feel free to go into the house, we don’t mind.” You hope that will help his decision, you’d hate to see him leave.

He wants to thank you with the words stuck in his throat, something you noticed well enough that intensified the feeling that clogged your own. “Um, yeah… New bed, the lamp and main light work, window opens, and you have your own personal bathroom. Unfortunately, the boiler is still very old fashioned so you will have to warm it or boil some water in the chimney to shower.” You hope that repeating yourself will convince him, restraining yourself from begging.

It has its flaws but he has decided not to care. “I’ll take it. It’s still $130 for the month, right?” He smiles boyishly, putting down his suitcases. It gives you a sense of tenderness and relief. You want to sigh and smile, giggle with appreciation. “Don’t worry about that, the room is yours.” You hand him the key, that’s the best you can manage.

His lip slightly juts out and eyebrows furrow with your words. “What do you mean by that? Please, I insist.” He turns to you, taking a step closer, forcing you to bite the inside of your lower lip. “I can double it if you prefer.” He pleads, head tilting to the side with wide eyes. It’s not intentional, he’s unaware of the effects he has on people. He’s scared you’re tricking him to not keep the room, to give it to someone else. Almost like you aren’t finding his presence enjoyable. If only he knew how much you would love for him to stay.

“It’s not that, trust me.” You walk towards the door, avoidingly. “It’s nice to not be alone. To have someone else around.” Your eyes don’t meet his, he understands. Letting it go, he thanks you in a whisper. “By any chance can I use your phone?” He asks in attempts to change the atmosphere.

Apologies fill your eyes like previous conversations. “It’s off until Monday.” It’s Wednesday.

“There’s a little store a block or two from here, not far at all. You can leave from either side, it’s flamboyantly yellow so you won’t miss it.” His excursion to find this place alone will say otherwise. “The name is painted on with neon green, ‘Gaby’s’ it’s called.” You laugh, looking at the expression on his face. He thanks you and follows behind the exit of the room, parting ways.

Despite the rundown homes and slight deterioration here and there, Jaehyun liked the tranquility and uncertainty in pertinence to the weather. One second he is granted with the warmth of vitamin D, the other he is threatened with the smell of wet dogs. This town had it all, yet none of it interfered with the breeze that calmed him as his hair waltzed around, singing in his ear that he was in the right hands, finally at ease.

You were right about not missing the store. He can laugh now – he did when taking the final corner, being met with what he felt was covered in buckets of highlighter ink. It was almost comical how opposite the owner was from her lively store and home.

“Good morning.” He mutters, “What are your rates for long distance calls?” She looks at him, pulling out a booklet from the phone company, arms working like it’s a chore.

“How far?” “Overseas.”

She looks at him through lashes, sighing, flipping another page.

“$3.56 per minute.”

Jaehyun’s eyes bulge out, nodding frighteningly. The process goes accordingly: she hands him the phone, writes down his name and the location before looking at him to dial on that old dinky home phone. The wires are sticky from tape residue with some edges popping out. It was her mother’s from 1957 but she loves it more than her third born.

He rotates the wheel, hanging up one or three times until he finally gets it. When the other line finally picks up, she starts a timer. “It’ll be quick.” He mentions. “Take your time.” She smiles.

“Hello? Hellooo~.” The voice on the other line calls out, ready to hang up, a pair of blondes far more important than this are waiting for him. “Hyunjoo?” Jaehyun asks, hand clasping the bottom of the phone. “Yeah? Who is this?” His words sound slurred, not enough to call him drunk.

“It’s Jaehyun.”

An eruption of laughter and greetings is heard in the background, smiling at how welcoming it felt, although strange. “Jaehyunie! How are you finding it there? Fun?… You know when Jude showed me the pictures I thought you were crazy for choosing that… place! Do you think you can hold out long?!” He laughs diminishingly, Jaehyun’s smile falters, his heart aching as it usually does when it comes to Hyunjoo.

He clears his throat, standing straight. “It’s great, I really like it so far and I’ve only seen the house.” He musters a laugh. “Listen, long-distance calls are expensive so I think we should only communicate through letters, okay? I just wanted to call to let you know I was fine.” He’s ready to end the conversation here. It didn’t start how he wanted it and a reminder of his actuality is not what he wants.

“No… no, now wait a minute!” It wasn’t Hyunjoo on the line anymore but Jude, his manager who was far more sober than his publisher. Some tussling and grunting here and there on the other line, Jaehyun sighs looking at how quickly he was pushing three minutes already.

Eventually Jude got through, scolding the drunkard. “Now what do you mean you won’t call? Don’t be dumb, I need to hear from you!” He bites onto his cigarette, scolding Jaehyun like a small kid, like the child he pretends is his. “It’s too much, Jude. Plus, the house doesn’t have a phone right now so you can’t reach me.” His foot bounces, scoffing like a petulant child proclaiming independence from their family.

Jude went on a tirade about how it wasn’t good for Jaehyun to go cold on them but the younger one wasn’t hearing it. The entire premise of this trip was to forget about them all so why won’t they let him? “Okay too much time, too much money, bye!” Jaehyun cuts the conversation short, giggling as the yelling got louder. Seizing when the timer hits six minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

“$24.92.” A wide smile decorates the owner’s rotund face, sticking her hand out. Nothing left but to sigh and hand her the money.

Jaehyun takes this opportunity to explore the village, mesmerized by the intricacies of carved ornate decorations onto walls and doors. In awe with the obvious distinctions between newly built homes and colonial ones he found far more attractive. Architecture was not his only interest, not when the mocking tango of scent swirls drag him to the plaza. Taunting him with delectable treats and meals at every corner and hall.

If he wanted to fall further in love, then the market currently taking place should do. Colorful carps and music from corner to corner, swaying him through the fabric made halls. Jingles of welcomings and hollering flood the ears of every passerby. Whether he wanted fresh produce, flavored shaved ice, fruit cocktails, clothes, or even toys, Jaehyun could find it all. It reminded him of the swap meet he encountered with his friends once when living in Connecticut years ago. This was surely far more inviting and lively.

Through his trail around the halls, Jaehyun came to a halt upon seeing you standing before your grandfather on the bench your grandmother’s family had donated. Worry filled your face but the older man’s laughter was far more deafening and comforting. An internal warmth forces your head to turn, spotting him immediately for your eyes to meet.

“Need help?” Jaehyun offers embarrassedly, you deny. Your grandfather is receptive despite your light scolding. “It’s fine, really.” You try but both men insist. “Do you know how to repair cars?” Your grandfather asks, Jaehyun shakes his head apologetically, all which prompts your grandpa to huff and shake his own head.

“The car broke down.” He’s met with another of your apologetic smiles, as if he’s the one being wronged and not you and your grandfather. “I’m just going to finish off the shopping, mind giving him an eye?” You ask Jaehyun, the first favor to be exact and he couldn't be more elated to not feel useless.

It’s shut down by the older of the three, complaining and almost throwing a tantrum over how he didn’t need a babysitter. It wasn’t completely wrong, the entire village knew him so watchful eyes were all around, it’s not like you couldn’t trust him to be on his own. “No, no. Matter of fact, help her with the bags. Go on, look at how heavy they are.” He scolds Jaehyun, throwing away any unfamiliarity out the window. That’s one thing about him, he’s too trusting.

Like a child in between parents having an argument, Jaehyun didn’t know who to listen to. Fortunately you give up and sigh, motioning with your head for him to follow you. He took a handful of bags from your hand, some left in the care of your grandfather that was well situated on the bench.

He gave you both his blessing, shooing you off to embark in an awkwardly silent walk with nothing but the blaring music vendors played to fill that emptiness. He had so much he wanted to ask, to say, to know what you could teach him about the village or if you knew how he could travel to neighboring ones. He was giddish and that’s all that took for you to turn to him with a smile.

“Quite a bad host, aren’t I? I didn’t even introduce myself.” You giggle, stopping at a stand. “It’s okay, I didn’t either, I’m sorry. I’m Jaehyun.”

“Y/n,” You give him a quick glance, taking a bag from a vendor. “What are you doing here, anyways? No one comes here for pleasure.” Jaehyun could tell more words hung on the tip of your tongue, ones you swallow down. He didn’t know how to answer. If someone else asked him, he’d mention how he wanted some inspiration, to see what he could bring into fruition but with you his sincere words threatened to spill.

How could he mutter: “I think I hate my life and those in it, so my manager and publisher shipped me off somewhere I’d be far from that world. I think they just wanted to get rid of me but it’s what I wanted all along…”

“Oh?”

Shit. Just like that.

“I-I… I didn’t mean to say that.” He scolds himself. This had never happened before, what the hell was that?! Your laughter doesn’t help and he’s scared you’re laughing at his problems. He doesn’t want to believe someone like you could be this cruel.

“It’s okay.”

That’s not reassuring. “It’s okay. I hated where I was a year ago too, so I was also shipped here.” That’s comforting– somewhat.

Your shoulders shimmy as you pay for the produce, walking towards another stand. “Granted, my aunt got sick. She was my grandparents' caretaker but it was getting worse and I took the role.” From the depths of your pocket, you pull out some pumpkin seeds, handing him a few for him to crack, not counting with the coating of salt to scald his tongue.

“She comes back here and there to check in and help but eventually she has to go back for constant checkups. I hadn’t found a job right out of college so this was my next best option and I like it – far more so, I think.” A sincere smile adorns your face; this was comforting.

Things went far more smoothly after that introduction. He told you about his books and what he wanted to do here. He told you about how miserable he felt and how abusive the city seemed to be towards him. You told him that you missed your city but the reality of facing adulthood in the area was weighing down on you. He figured this was your reality escape and although grim on your end, he felt ecstatic for himself. He felt like he finally found exactly what he needed.

The conversation went well with a few laughs here and there until reaching full circle with cups of shaved ice in a bag to take home and yours in hand. Bliss was momentarily gone when you reached the bench and didn’t spot your grandfather. Regardless, it didn’t take long for a seller to let you know his nephew gave him a ride.

These instances made Jaehyun appreciate your gentleness for your grandparents. Although aware of how you try to hide your emotions from him, the guard falls when it comes to them. It’s admirable.

Noise didn’t break the bubble of silence you remained in until entering the kitchen where your grandfather was sitting at a table already, your grandmother making his coffee while Ollie tired and sweaty relaxed by the door, munching on a candybar he bought when getting the fright remedy. A token of appreciation from your grandfather for the cigarette.

“We didn’t see you, I almost had a heart attack.” You mock reprimand, a smile setting on your face seeing the older man safe and sound. No matter how hard you try to act angry, seeing him eat the rest of his bread while waiting for lunch calms you down. “I’m the old one here, save the ailments for another sixty years.” he cackles, Jaehyun beginning to find comfort in your grandfather’s ability to find humor in anything.

“I think our guest might want out already.” He teases, sneaking a piece from Ollie’s candy. The boy doesn’t protest, doing the same with the shaved ice you brought. Jaehyun felt his ears warm up, nervously denying it with no avail as your grandpa kept insisting with that same laugh. Dying when your grandma scolds him to leave Jaehyun alone.

Jaehyun giggles quietly, shaking his head. “Please believe me. I think it’s beautiful so far.” Your grandma hums, the one to speak is Ollie. “There’s nothing here. What’s beautiful about it?” He shrugs with a scowl. “He hasn’t seen the other towns, give it time, Ol.” You intervene, forcing him to taste test the rice.

“Well, what if you and Ollie, whenever he can, show…”

“Jaehyun.” You help your grandmother, playfully glaring at the young boy for feedback on the dish. The elderly give each other a quick glance while Ollie makes a mocking thumbs down when he knows the smile on his face says otherwise.

She nods, scooping a spoonful of lard into the pan. “Why don’t you and Ollie show Jaehyun around after your duties. I doubt he wants to stay all hours here.” Jaehyun doesn’t know how to feel. He’s embarrassed, he’s also bashful and feels imposing. “It’s okay, I can manage. I don’t want to overstep.” He nervously chuckles, ears brightening.

“Okay.” You shut him up. He turns to you, silence deafening yet comforting, even when you finally lift your head to look at him, nodding. “It’s okay, just let us know what you want to see.” You’re much calmer than he is, it causes his body to tense despite being thankful with how inviting you are. How inviting you all are, he thinks he can see himself here for longer.

“Thank you.” He meets your eyes with a smile, thankful and glad. It’s reciprocated, knocking down the nonchalant act.

The first outings don’t go past the premises of the village. With planting being the main priority, neither you or Ollie have time to take him anywhere. The younger spent his days working the tractor, taking your grandfather up and down as his mentor despite his own father being there.

Jaehyun tried to help once but was booted by both men and their laughter. He won’t fault them, he almost ruined a row of freshly planted beans and if he was to learn anything throughout this trip, he’d learn that any grain and imperfection was important enough to ruin the entire harvest. Instead he was left to pavement clearing, making sure no rocks or debris got in the way of vehicles.

The following week he had been left to his vices at home. You had apologetically told him they found assistance and he should enjoy his trip at home. Although there was nothing left to do, not for him at least. Your grandmother wouldn’t let him lift a finger in the kitchen and she didn’t like his cleaning style, leaving it to you if she was busy.

Ollie had fixed the fan by now. The new motor made the room freeze, mimicking the room temperature of the home. Cold enough that Jaehyun preferred to leave the window open despite the crawlers that woke him at night. Now he contemplates whether he should turn the fan on or sleep with cotton filled eardrums.

Jaehyun lays in bed, bored and antsy for something to do. The sound of your arguing with animals overpower the boombox next to his head, melodies he didn’t understand.

The fountain pen on his hand never felt far heavier, a sign that he had nothing new to produce. No, the only thing his hand mustered to write was the noises you made. Whatever pertains to you.

“Tutt-tutt.” “Cluth-cluth… No, Constance! Don’t peck me!” “Behhh, behhh! Here, what a cry baby.”

Jaehyun found joy through you and your acts of love.

“Meow, meow, meow! I can do that too! I already fed you, Fina! Gluttony is a sin, you know.”

Days went on like this, it’s repetitious but he doesn’t complain. Past times he’d think what he’s doing now was all he wanted but a mind never rests and his body is antsy for new experiences. He no longer wants to lie and feel the breeze rush through the window to coddle him, forcing the sheer white curtains to dance around for his attention.

Jaehyun tucks away his journal, buttoning up his shirt and slipping on the work boots he bought with only four days here. Full of glee and excitement he bought them to help your grandfather. He reckoned if he was going to get down and dirty then he should be dressed accordingly.

With pep to his step, Jaehyun makes a beeline towards the pen. What used to be barking of unfamiliarity turned to a simple bark for attention, received with wagging tails. He made sure to pat their heads until reaching the fence, looking at you conversing with Camila, the donkey.

“Aha and what else did he do?... No! You should’ve kicked him straight in the leg, Cami. He can’t talk to you like that!.” You nod and hum at her playfully, received with brays and nods. Jaehyun doesn’t know what you’re talking about but he’s glad that you’re having fun.

New hay had been brought in the morning, far more greener and fresh which left the old hay to be moved around for maintenance. In the process of such, strays found themselves near the dogs, enough to crunch under his step. Like a deer caught in headlights, Jaehyun stops, ears reddening by the whip of your head and Camila’s blaring bray.

“Hi…” He mutters timidly, cause of your smile. “Hi.” You reciprocate with the softest welcoming. He takes the initiative to approach you, standing a few feet behind. Neither say anything, amused with Camila’s treacherous ways in leaving you to gain his attention. Head bumping onto his hand to mimic the pats he left on the dogs.

Pleased she throws a kick, sending old hay flying towards the lambs and goats that reproach her action. You share a giggle, forcing you two to give each other a quick glance. “I think she likes you.” You mention, “I like her too.” He replies, petting her ears, as red as his. “Well don’t feed her ego, now. It’s already through the roof.” You teasingly scoff, another airy laugh leaves him.

“Don’t be harsh, I think she needs it. I mean, I don’t know what you two were talking about just now but it seems like she needed her confidence there.” He smiles at you, taking her face into both hands. Your groan makes him wink at Camila, thankful that he’s found something to converse with you. “Her and Ollie–” Camila brays, removing Jaehyun’s touch from her. “They have such an intense hate-love relationship that his name throws her off, so I’m giving her advice on how to deal with it. Right, Mila?” Understandingly, she nods, seeking your attention again.

“Granted it’s all made up, she’s a little jealous but with you here I think Ollie should take the role.” She brays again, aiming to bite your hand. You get away just in time, sticking your tongue out at her. Jaehyun receives the image with laughter, his chest filled with joy.

He shakes his head, petting hers to calm her down. “No, I don’t want to be responsible for their failure.” You nod, picking up a metal rake. “Mind if I help you? It’s getting boring there…” He’s ashamed to admit it. You sympathize with him, after all when you used to visit you often fell in his shoes.

“Alright, a heads up, this will be messy work.” He nods obediently, eyes shimmering with their natural gloss and the sun’s reflection.

Darn him and his cuteness!

Blinking the thought away you hand him a broom and the rake. “Here, hold these while I tie up this maniac.” Your eyes squint meeting those of the ram that tackled you when he arrived. His own mimicking yours, it was on and he knew it.

With rope in your hand, test swings approaching the pen’s door, the beast starts to test the waters. Three…two…one! What ensues is a battle between both, Jaehyun trying his best to help. He envisioned that this rivalry is what Ollie and Camila had, he’d witness it a few days prior. The only exception that you and Whitey hated each other to the core. He never knew why.

After a few falls and tugs here and there, you two managed to get him in the isolation pen. Scoffing and laughing as he settles on newly clean hay. While he relaxes, you both huff and hold onto the fence, wiping away any remnants of sweat. “Ready to work?” You question, Jaehyun felt like this was enough. Unfortunately it’s only the beginning.

With free and safe reign to go inside the pen, you lay out the map of where to go and be careful. The wall to the neighbors cooped the chickens. It was the time they laid eggs so cleaning it would be held off until a few days later. On the opposite side to the street, roosters had their own coups.

“All you have to do is separate the poop from the hay, that’s what the rake is for.” Jaehyun figured you felt apologetic for the task as the look you gave him when presenting the room manifested itself onto your face. If you only knew that he’d never say no to you.

He mutters an ‘alright’ with his brilliant smile, reassuringly. “While you do that,” you watch him struggle, “I’ll clean this one.” Your voice slowed, concentrated on how to maneuver. You referred to the pen around a large cactus. He didn’t give it much thought when you went in, he also felt it wouldn’t be that hard, the livestock discard balls for goodness sake.

He had the confidence that died along the way he swept and raked. For small balls they were pungent and he wasn’t handling it well, the uncovered smell of piss added to it. You try not to laugh when he gagged or turned around so you wouldn’t see him cover his face but it was becoming hard.

Endearing is the word you’re thinking of, even when he perceives it as mockery that his face falls into a pout when he hears your laughter. “Please don’t laugh at me.” He practically begs, head lifting for a waft of fresh air before pushing old disgusting hay into a trash bag.

“I’m sorry,” A laugh escapes. “It’s good I’m the one here, I wouldn’t doubt Ollie tormenting you if it was him here.” Jaehyun agrees, the difference being that he wouldn’t care for Ollie's ridicule, he’d play along and try his best to improve. He cares for your opinion which is far different.

“He did enough during harvest.” “I heard.”

Silence befalls as you continue, the sun seems to have hidden behind clouds for the time being.

“I’m sorry you’re not having a good time.” You broke the peace, his ears perking at the condolence lacing your voice. “I know you wanted an escape and I’m sorry I haven’t been of much help.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Why are you blaming yourself for something that should only matter to him? He has free will and range to get up and take the next taxi or bus to neighboring towns. You shouldn’t blame yourself for his decisions.

Escapism might not have come to him in the way intended but everyday has become a new experience for him. “Don’t… I promise that even picking up droppings is something new for me.” He rebuttals your claim, mirroring the same apologetic look you give him. “Y/n… I’ve been coddled all my life, this entire experience has been a new step for me and I feel like Bambi, positively.” He smiles, widely enough that it’s the first time you notice his deep dimples.

You sigh, unsure if it’s from relief, pash, or in between.

“Yeah, okay… I was in your shoes too when I began to stay as a caretaker. I’ve done all of this when I would visit but it was not as intense as it is now. I don’t mind, I’m here to help. I have to.” It sounds melancholic and he’s not sure how to interpret it.

Avoiding it you look around to see he’s done a good job. You’re actually very well impressed, the words that were meant to leave your mouth surely were appreciative but they’re shoved back down your throat when you attempt to stand up. It’s almost like his presence dumbifies you. Like you forget the world around you, manifesting itself in your careless and clueless actions like resting your open hand on a cactus while trying to stand up just to bring him comforting words.

Instead he’s met with your yelp as you prick your hand, head, and shoulder in the process of standing and tumbling down. Whitey’s karma has served you, he bleats mockingly when you keep on hurting yourself within the premise of his home.

Instinctively Jaehyun rushes to you, concerned and scared of what this could illicit. He isn’t safe of Whitey’s wrath, not when he helped you and has decreed the young brunette is of your interest. Rushing to your aid, Jaehyun doesn’t count on one of the sheep to leave her droppings on the path he’s taking. Fresh and new, it wasn’t difficult for Jaehyun to find himself slipping straight into the cactus that has served your own aches.

They say laughter is the best medicine. Both you and Jaehyun attempt it when your eyes meet but the throbbing is far more intense that you synchronize in wailing. Loud and tuneless, enough to drag out your grandmother from the kitchen and force laughter out of Ollie and your grandfather who were arriving from their daily duties.

Camila doesn’t stay too behind in her own laughter. You fear all the livestock was against you two or perhaps rooting for you in the most vicious way. It’s rotten to know this is the start of your shared misery and ache.

The accident had forced your grandparents to make it up to you both the following day. Early in the morning your grandfather drove you all to a neighboring town. Ollie groggily dragged himself out of his home despite his father’s complaints that he was being a burden. You reassured him he was always welcomed, your grandfather scolded his dad. Yelling at him to stop trying to force ideas in the boy’s head.

Jaehyun had taken in the scenery on his taxi drive although he’s convinced something is different this time. Aside from your grandfather teasing everyone when driving along the edge of the mountains, Ollie clinging to you ready to cry as if he didn’t surpass all of you in height.

It takes roughly an hour and a half to arrive at the destination and almost another to find parking they eventually found was free and available behind a cathedral. Everyone laughs at each other for missing it when minutes prior your grandfather was ready to turn the car around, hangry and annoyed at how this damn town was overcrowded with no parking spots.

For once he felt like an actual tourist, visiting the restaurant you all loved and gorging himself with the most delicious meal he’s ever tasted in his life – besides his mother’s cooking, of course! For reassurance, she will witness how happy he looked while eating through the picture you managed to snap of him.

After the meal, your grandparents attempted to walk for digestion but age made them give up as soon as you all reached the town’s plaza. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, you saw no problem with it, they’re together. All they asked was to bring them those donuts they loved dearly and a soda to share. Ollie took it in his hands to beat you to it. Now there you and Jaehyun stood looking at the elderly couple sat before you.

At the time it didn’t feel like a scheme but looking back at it, Jaehyun is sure you figured it out as well.

Despite the accident, you both went back to the timidness that sheltered you both. Stolen glances and polite smiles when caught, stopping here and there to take pictures of the architecture and culture. He wouldn’t tell you, but a good portion were candids of you. You look so pretty that he could not avoid capturing the only remnants of you he could keep.

Both try small talk, history pointers whenever reaching old buildings – most consisted of luring him away from hustlers. You’d laugh after every successful attempt and reward yourself with street snacks that he’d find too salty or too sweet, still delicious enough to risk getting scolded by his physician if it meant enjoying the wonders of life.

The day might have ended with shy conversations and laughs but both could testify that comfort is what surrounded you most. On his end he felt safe and secure, comfortable enough to laugh at anything you said because in whatever way he looked at it, your presence forced glee onto him. Warmth and comfort is what you would best describe it as and that’s what you have learnt care feels like.

Your grandmother began going easy on you after the accident and outing. You felt like a teenager visiting your grandparents again with how little she left for you to do and how she forced you to go out more often. Encouraging you to enjoy your summer as well while showing Jaehyun around.

Jaehyun is sure this was her way to make both of you appreciate the limited shared time. He’s thankful enough for it but bitter towards himself for losing some weeks at the start.

You began showing him around other towns. On times you went grocery shopping and he’d beat you to paying for it (his form of appreciation), he’d throw in a peach or two. His favorite, you figured.

At the neighboring market, he’d buy fridge magnets, five for the price of a large one. All which represented his favorite snacks he’s consumed during these days. You still remember teasing him for buying a mini replica magnet of a beer bottle. Later at home while rocking on a chair he showed you a layout of how he’d arrange them on his fridge. In the meantime, you helped him decorate the door to his room, enjoying the air the fan blew at both.

When it rained, Ollie forced both to dance under the cold drops. Enjoy life as you should, he justified. At night, he’d dragged you both to the night market. Showing Jaehyun his favorite drinks and laugh when you scold him for drinking like an old man with kidney issues. He would joke about you and Jaehyun being his parents and would even grab your hands to skip in between both when it was so easy for him to drag you down. Damn him and his tall genes.

He’d drag the joke far enough to reach home where your grandparents never missed the opportunity to throw in a “Take your brat with you.” whenever Ollie was available and you were to show Jaehyun around. Neither of you minded, Ollie was silent enough to let you two bask in each other’s presence and playful enough for you two to feel at ease and content.

In another universe, this would reign true and not a fragment of a life you’re all creating that was never to bloom.

After three months the festivities had reached your village and vendors from all around the country settled by the plaza. Intrigued at first and fascinated by what they sold, poor Jaehyun fell victim to one of the home goods sellers. Spending a large amount buying your grandmother some pots, pans, a set of dishes, and stools as a token of appreciation. He went overboard but was happy to help, blinded by the cheap prices. Jaehyun should’ve known something was off, he knows you would have talked him out of it but you had been arguing with another vendor that they took advantage of the painfully obvious foreigner in the meantime.

When arriving home and seeing he had been robbed, you got ready to argue and force them to give him his money back. He protested despite being defeated and sad he was swindled. He convinced you but not your grandparents and Ollie. The three had taken matters into their own hands while you two fetched salt blocks to replace in the pen. By the time you got back, Ollie’s hair was far more ruffled than usual and his face red while your grandfather laughed, taking a sip of his beer, clanking it with your grandmother’s. On the kitchen bar, Jaehyun’s money was laid out. Every single cent and interest returned to him, money he used to invite all to dinner and dessert with a gift of their choice.

Ollie wore his tonight. Gleefully trotting through the threshold of the gate, careful to not scuff the boots Jaehyun gladly bought while singing to gain attention. Jaehyun laid on bed, scribbling his thoughts on his days, one-liners here and there and far more of the noises you’ve made. In addition the lyrics to the song Ollie sang before your grandmother told him to stop before he ate a fly.

Fireworks had been going off all day and neighbor’s music loudened with their gates open. This wasn’t new but it seemed to be far more intense today out of all days. “Why aren’t you ready? You’re not going to the fair?” Ollie questions, out of breath and frantic to see your grandparents sitting on their chairs enjoying today’s weather with a cup of soda in one hand and pastries in the other.

Talks about a fair had not gone in deaf ears throughout the past three weeks but Jaehyun paid it no mind when he saw that no one else seemed concerned – besides Ollie. It seemed to be a big thing when he noticed more carps, games, and rides fully covering the plaza.

“Don’t think we will be going, Ol. Their knees hurt.” Your voice manifests itself, forcing Jaehyun to sit up and put away his journal. You had been doing some chores outside his room. Hanging laundry and watering the plants, the product of everything he’s written and attempted to draw today.

He follows outside, Ollie greets him, a mischievous smile on his lips forming an idea. “Why not? I’ll drive if you want! Do it for Jaehyun, he’s never going to experience this again.”

Ollie’s childish intuition strikes again, this time in the form of a gash against both of your chests.

You both knew it was true but reality is what Jaehyun wanted to escape and you had made sure to enable him. It just so happens that you have fallen victim to it as well.

No matter, he said he wanted to stay months so it should still be far along in the future. You think so… you implore.

Perceptive is a word to describe your grandparents. Despite their ache they figure it is not as big as the one brewing in the depths of your conscious and heart. As best as they can, they agree with the younglin and head inside to get ready.

Ollie is ecstatic, he’s always been a fan of these things but now that he was of age, he could enjoy it more with a drink or two. Not to mention things like these are grounds for finding partners and like any town boy who hasn’t found one, he’s looking forward to it. That’s what he tells you and Jaehyun at least but he knows he’ll spend his night looking after your grandparents, far more giddy about you two together.

He had been smart enough to put cinder blocks early in the morning in a parking spot front and center from the fair, forcing Jaehyun out of the car to move and put them behind the car once he parked so no one would block them. Perfect was his plan that once everyone got out of the car, his friends that occupied a bench scattered like roaches to give their seat to your grandparents. Both elders find it comical seeing right through Ollie.

Arriving just in time for the parade, all queen candidates drove around in their elaborately decorated transportation. Colors flying around similar to their presentation favors, many which ended up hitting both Jaehyun and Ollie in the head. The older of the two made sure to take pictures of it while Ollie complained, claiming he was glad he didn’t vote for whoever hit him. The new reigning queen didn’t appear until the end. It was far more of a social economic competition. Whoever paid more won therefore it wasn’t surprising when a queen from years prior won again.

“You should’ve signed up, you would’ve won, Y/n.” Ollie elbows you, received with an eye roll. “Right, Jaehyun?” That devious brat, always finding a way to make you miserable. You try not to turn to Jaehyun, yet his gaze is so intense that it forces you to do so slowly. His face, decorated with that usually wide smile that emphasized his dimples, eyes squinting in glee when yours finally meet his. Candidness and benevolence lacing his voice.

“Yes, you would have won, Y/n.”

That was enough footing for Ollie to shoo both of you away, promising to take care of your grandparents while you had fun. Your attempts at protest are futile, your grandparents helping Ollie in his mission. Buying the three something to eat in the process before parting ways, promising it’ll be fast.

It’s not fast, it’s a brisk walk that both you and Jaehyun enjoy. Struggling to not lose each other within the masses going opposite or in the same direction. He jokes about feeling like a meerkat in a sea of gazelles, you laugh but he’s sure you don’t find it funny. At least he’s glad you humor him.

You entertain him through food. Buying tornado potatoes, plain and simple. He mentions having eaten these when he lived in Connecticut. You ask him about the state and what it’s like, you’re not too thrilled nor believe him when he says it’s boring. As an attempt to remove the connection, you drizzle hot sauce on one half of the potatoes. Scared but willing to try it, Jaehyun lets you feed him the first broken off bit. It’s enjoyable at first, soon his face blends with the lights behind him. Red and bright as he begins to cough. Now he will only think of this when it comes to the snack.

You both laugh at it, as an apology you buy him a drink. A piña colada for him and a michelada for you, it should work enough to ease both of your bashfulness. He couldn’t eat anything from the drizzled side, leaving those for you whilst he munched on the dry. Giving you sips here and there from his drink to cool down the fire in your mouth. He teases you for choosing a spicy drink when you’re eating far more spice, receiving him with an eye roll and “You don’t know what life is about.”

Finishing that, he dragged you to a game. You’d like to think he found it far more odd because of the mini stripper animatronics in the center of all the glass bottles but he reassures you the life-size gremlin doll pissing on people was more alluring – and disturbing. It didn’t stop him from attempting to win a decrepit pale Winnie the Pooh bear.

He had spent a good amount of time trying for it, towards the end he required your help. You had been nagging him throughout the entire game to not spend more money on the game, that it was most likely rigged but when it was your turn and managed to burst all bottles, then it became a skill issue.

Jaehyun mopped about it, you figured the bear would bring him comfort. He held it for seconds to soon return it with a bright smile. You try rejecting it, he had been fighting hard for it so it was confusing why he didn’t want it. You thought it had to do with the principle of the winner takes it all; it wasn’t the case.

He confessed he had wanted to get it for you and only felt bummed that he wasn’t able to but that you should keep it irregardless as a token of his appreciation and care for you, to give your Garfield some company. The moment would’ve been sweet if the booth attendant didn’t make that stupid doll spritz it’s faux piss your way, forcing you to flee while cursing him out with laughs in between.

That was the beginning of your journey through halls and carps, stepping out here and there to get on children’s rides that warrant glares from parents. Jaehyun joked about dragging Ollie so he could ride the caterpillar rollercoaster with him and have you take pictures of a father with his kid. Jaehyun is now playing along with the fantasy Ollie has created. You don’t know whether to laugh or let the ache in your heart manifest.

You end at the ferris wheel only a few feet away. In the process of calming each other’s laughter, the noises of people and music filled the silence. Comforting as the day you met, walking through the market and buying produce for that day’s meal. It makes Jaehyun think about how far you two have gone. How one little incident with a cactus has led to having the time of your lives nearing the highest point of the ride.

You’ve felt the warmth and softness of his touch. Felt his care and appreciation through every little act yet you yearn and crave for more from him. Your body and soul know there is more both can offer, although frightened that you’ve misinterpreted his lingering gazes and gestures.

“When I was younger my mom had decided that we would spend every summer with my grandparents and aunt. I hadn’t been here since I was five for her grandpa’s funeral so it meant nothing the first few weeks. The first year, even.”

Jaehyun turns, intrigued. “Then when my mom would make the long distance calls and send letters, my grandpa would joke around how I didn’t want to visit them at all – that I hated it here, similar to how he does with you. I didn’t hate it, I think I just wasn’t familiar with the lifestyle in comparison to back home where I don’t have to worry about if there’s hot running water.”

His hand inches closer to you. “In attempts to prove him wrong, I spent my time here helping him with the animals, going grocery shopping with him and my cousins and it drew me closer to this. After the second summer, we spent Christmas here too and the weather killed me but they seemed so happy that I joined.”

Your laugh comforts him. He thinks about the times he’s attempted to help and failed your grandparents, it only dawns upon him that things take time and he shouldn’t dwell on them too much.

“Then in my last summer of college, I had taken an internship that promised a job right out of college– obviously it was a lie, I’m here.” You laugh bitterly. “I missed time with my family and my grandma ended up in the hospital. I felt so guilty the remainder of the year, even during winter break. I felt like it was my fault, that my absence was the small piece of the puzzle that could ruin it all.”

Jaehyun felt and heard the remorse in your voice, he felt the need to find a way to ease it with no avail, feeling as inutile as when the ram tackled you. It’s imprinted in his brain that no matter what, it will weigh on his shoulders that he’s not able to help no matter how much he tries.

“And I think the universe is funny and cruel enough that when the internship dropped me and said all vacancies were occupied, my aunt was the one to fall ill next. Forcing her back home with her own family. It was its way to make it up to me, as horrible as it sounds.”

You share a sigh, he takes your hand in his, reassuringly. You don't want comfort words, he knows that, he knows this is enough for you. “I think what I first felt when visiting is what you feel now with the exception that you actually have so much to do out there…” Jaehyun’s actions halt, lifting his head to look at your sorrow filled eyes.

He shakes his head, trying to convince himself and you. He clings to the delusion everyone helped create in hopes to be good hosts. He still has time, Jaehyun has time, he wants to believe it so please don’t shatter his joy so quickly, please!

“It’s okay, Jaehyun. You have to publish your book, we’ll always be here for you as they’ve been for me.” He’s not too sure how true that is. Life is never consistent nor forgiving, he’s learnt that in harsh ways. People’s care is conditional and based on time and familiarity, he’s been at the end of that stick.

Your hand takes purchase on his cheek, consoling him for what you have just said. You didn’t intend to cause this but you have to prepare yourself for what you’ve known all along. “I don’t think I want to go back and risk anything.” He mutters, eyes softening the longer he looks at you, the ride feels endless.

“You must… All there is for you here is inspiration.” They’re meant to comfort him but it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself that you’ll be fine when he leaves. Jaehyun’s lips part ready to speak, words muted by the fireworks going off. Midnight has hit, it’s a brand new day and it’s received with pyrokinetic colors that aim to diffuse the pain he feels.

They illuminate your face, a smile forming in awe of how pretty they look. Not as pretty as you, Jaehyun is sure of that the longer he stares with the same smile on his face you adore. “I’ve found the life I needed all along.” His touch on your cheek brings you back to him, dumbfounded with what he meant. Inquiries answered upon feeling his lips softly land on yours.

Hands softly cradle your face, eyelashes tickling your cheek as you get a taste of him. It’s so soft and tender that you want to be here for the rest of the night, drowning the noises around you. If you’ve felt heaven before, it doesn’t compare to being with him like you are now.

The crowded path didn’t feel claustrophobic, like it was just you two in the sea of booths, fluorescent lights and fireworks. The music drowned, his grasp on you doing its best to keep you with him for whatever time is left for you two.

He hadn’t noticed at what point you both had gone back until Ollie stepped in between you two. “So? Did you like it?” The giddy young boy questions, a bottle of beer in his hand, compliments from his cousin – your grandparents with their own as well, watching. Jaehyun nods, glancing at you. “More than anything.” He smiles widely, hypnotizing dimples present.

Ollie giggles, a chant as he jumps near your grandparents telling them something that neither of you manage to hear, distracted by the shocking ice-cold bottle shoved into your hands. Your grandfather had been talking to your grandmother, both laughing about judgments thrown at people around them. Mean, yes, but it’s not often that they bond about things anymore.

The elder’s leg had been bouncing as they talked, cackling in the process of drowning whatever was left in the bottle. Jaehyun took notice of this, turning to the group playing up on stage a few feet away. People around were dancing, some seemed to enjoy themselves, others not too much – the only thing that mattered was the ambient and showing face.

Jaehyun approaches your grandpa, asking if he was having a good time. The older of the two nodded, responding by showing the new bottle Ollie handed him. You scold both of them to not drink too much but they shush you. “It’s a party, Y/n. Liven up.” Ollie laughs, alcohol having gotten into his stream, demonstrated on how clumsily he clinks his bottle with yours and everyone else's. “Come on, let’s dance instead.” Pulling you in for a quick little shuffle. He’s not a great dancer, he knows it. He also knows his joy brings joy to your grandparents and you’ll do anything for them to maintain it.

You entertain Ollie, dancing despite him having already stepped on you multiple times. Apologizing with whines and puppy eyes that make you laugh. You push him off after a while, helping your grandfather up so he could dance with you. He’s overjoyed, finally having the opportunity to do what he loves so much, a pity your grandmother is the opposite. She’s content enough with just watching.

Jaehyun smiles, laughing in glee at how the ambient fuels his emotions. His own body swaying ever so slightly, brain trying to formulate how to dance to music he’s never heard. He thinks he gets it, it doesn’t seem too hard but he could be proven wrong and become Ollie’s mirror.

Your grandmother, ever so insightful, watches with a glint of content with how well he has adapted to the culture. Although, far more interested in the way his eyes don’t leave you. His ears are red, brighter than the light illuminating the stage and the municipal office. Jaehyun may try to hide how he feels, you may try, but she’s older and wiser. She’ll always know when love is around.

“Go ask her for a dance.” She elbows him to catch his attention, Jaehyun had been holding your grandfather’s seat. The mention alone caused his ears to brighten, crimson migrating to his face. He tries not to smile, it so happens to be that his muscles are treacherous and they emphasize the lines of his smile, deepening those dimples you love.

Jaehyun shakes his head. Convince her that it’s okay, that he would rather watch, something she won’t allow. “Don’t coward away. When’s the next time you’ll get the chance?” Jaehyun ignores the heavy meaning of her words, he prefers to ignore the reality that slowly creeps in. Regardless, he nods, taking in the other point of view. He thanks her with a smile, standing up to walk towards you. Sacks of nervousness weighing him down, making his hands sweat.

“Mind if I take her from you?” Jaehyun clears his throat, head tilting, pleading. The older man cackles, pure and utter joy that Jaehyun has made a move. Frantically he nods, agreeing by pushing you towards the brunette who seems just as ecstatic as your grandfather. Given persimmon, Jaehyun takes your hand in his. Awkwardly figuring out how else he should position himself.

You watch amusedly, hiding your smile by pressing your lips together as if your cheeks and eyes were not a dead giveaway. “What makes you think I wanted to dance with you?” You tease, correcting where his hands and feet should go. The smile you try hard to hide slowly creeps in. Jaehyun doesn’t mind exposing his own, giggling when you begin to lead. “What’s this then?” He plays along, moving his feet and knees according to what he had examined. Raising your shoulders in a shrug, you don’t hold back your smile, a giggle following. “A lesson.”

The dance doesn’t go smoothly, you have to teach him between laughs, both yours and his with your family’s in the background but he manages. Even if you all think his dancing is horrible, as bad as Ollie’s, the younger one takes the opportunity to capture you two dancing with Jaehyun’s camera. If there’s something to remember, it is this night and the love that has finally come into fruition.

The flash blinds you, stopping you two from dancing and even though Ollie whines for you two to continue, you both claim your feet ache. It’s not a lie on your end but the coyness from your family seeing you with a potential partner is a bigger deal.

It’s past two in the morning, obvious in the way your grandparents hide their yawns from your view, hoping to not ruin your night further. “Want to go home?” You walk towards them, a hand on your hip and genuine concern on your face. They admit they are tired but don’t want to go home no matter how much you insist. Ollie offers to drive them home while you and Jaehyun stay back longer but you’ve been away from them this entire night that you cannot fathom the idea any longer.

Ollie and your grandparents can try to convince you with the same story about Jaehyun’s limited time but that wasn’t going to work now. No, you stick to your guns and manage to get them in the car. Ollie had drank far more than all of you so he wasn’t apt to drive, instead Jaehyun volunteered, something that had excited your grandfather the most.

After removing the cinder blocks and putting them back in the trunk, Ollie walks towards your window, bidding everyone goodnight. You nag him, worried that he was drinking too much. He receives you with an “Okay, mom!”, the same phrase he’s been throwing around ever since Jaehyun had reached a month’s stay. It managed to get a laugh out of your grandparents, even from you and Jaehyun but it didn’t change that you still lightly swat his hand. “I’m serious, Ollie. Don’t drink anymore, stay back a bit but not too late, Okay?”

The worry in your eyes makes him relent, nodding before kissing your cheek goodnight and shaking Jaehyun’s hand. The interaction forced a smile on his face, every single aspect of your tenderness making him melt more.

As the moon is his witness, Jaehyun has fallen in love with this village and you. Gracious the stars are that once you manage to get your grandparents in bed and meet Jaehyun in the kitchen, the two of you quietly make your way outside with nothing but moonlight to illuminate you.

“Want some coffee?” You ask, fingers familiarizing themselves with the texture of those yellow walls. “Do you not want to sleep?” He laughs, taking those same fingers to familiarize with the tenderness of his lips. The action makes your breath hitch.

“Perhaps…”

His eyes meet yours, inching closer to capture your lips in another tender kiss. His hands find purchase on your waist, your arms wrap around his shoulders. It’s sweet and soft, his tongue managing to slip in your mouth to waltz with your own. The soft muscle forces a delighted sigh, one that he swallows graciously.

When neither can hold it for much longer, you separate, smiling like two fools. “So no coffee, then?” You laugh, one he reciprocates with a nod. “Too bitter, not as sweet as you.” The flirtatious remark is received with a laugh.

“You’re so cheesy.” You claim. “It’s worth it if it makes you laugh – it’s what I like to hear everyday.”

Jaehyun’s expression is serious, the adoration in his eyes letting you know how he feels. He may not pin a word to it but you can see his yearning and longing. You try to be in the same cloud he is in, to ignore the dooming reality but you can’t. You appreciate his affection and you reciprocate it but you also don’t want to become delusional.

“Jaehyun…” Your head drops, avoiding his look. He thinks he’s done something wrong and it aches horribly. “Yeah?” He squeaks meekly, head moving in hopes to see your eyes, to understand how the atmosphere became so somber. “How serious are you about this? You know how things are an–”

“Don’t… Please don’t bring that up.” He begs, eyes shutting, no longer in need to understand what you meant. “You can’t act like you don’t have a life outside of here. You may stay all you want but eventually you will go back – there’s more to life than this for you.” Your head lifts, vulnerability not as heavy as his.

He tries to drown out your words, this night has gone too well for things to fall off already. He doesn’t want it to be bittersweet. Sure he can stay all he wants until it’s time to publish his book but he will come back so why are you being so cruel to him?

“Nothing compares to this, Y/n.” He holds your hands, hoping his warmth lets you know how much you’re hurting him but also how much he loves you. You shake your head, a small smile of unbelievability. “You’ve been here for three months, that’s still fine and dandy. It’s not like truly living here.”

His eyebrows furrow, refusing to listen. “But you still love it here. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.” His voice quivers, frightened that this is your way of ripping his heart out.

You sigh, squeezing his hands. “I do, I love it but I also think that I’ve been looking at this place through the same glasses you’re looking through. What I’m getting at is that, in the long run you’ll get bored, everyone I know has and they’ve left… Who knows, maybe even Ollie will leave and it’ll leave me here because no matter how hard I try to make a life out there, it doesn’t love me back.”

Jaehyun was perplexed, eyes scanning your face. He knows you’re projecting, that you don’t want to get attached despite already having done so, he hopes you could see inside him to understand that he doesn’t ever want to leave. He doesn’t want to leave you.

His hands cradle your face, kissing your eyelids, cheeks, nose, and lips for reassurance. “I can always come back. After publishing whatever I have in hand, I will always come back. You are the life that I needed all along, Y/n.” His whisper is heavy and sincere, the glimmer in both your eyes, evidence to what both feel.

Words don’t describe what you two feel, no matter how heavy they hang on your tongues. No, it’s best that you share it in another tender kiss that the stars and moon witness. Both end the conversation, convinced that the love you two port is stronger than the universe’s will.

Quick glances and kisses are stolen for the following weeks, everyone knows what both feel but it’s more exciting if you pretend as if this love is forbidden despite the encouragement and approval of your family. Ollie teases you two about the brewing romance, pretending to act like he didn’t say anything regarding it when you correct him that nothing is happening. It’s like a game for all of you, one that you all indulge in for the sake of excitement.

You had all agreed upon visiting a thermal spring this morning, the drive was somewhat long and it was best to arrive before other people did. Ollie was the most excited about it, he had begged his family to let him go for days until they agreed. It just so happens to be that the universe doesn’t often like to see him happy; you don’t appreciate that.

Ollie had arrived with a glum look on his face, saddened eyes when he sat in his usual seat next to the chimney. Jaehyun approached him with a cup of hot chocolate and a pat to his head. Your grandma didn’t take long to question the reason behind his state but he only sighed.

“They moved the pension collection to today. The offices will be closed until next month for remodeling so you two have to go in before the line gets long.” His lip juts out, looking at everyone with puppy eyes.

You ruffle his hair, rubbing his back comfortingly. “We can go tomorrow, Ollie. Don’t worry…” You mimic his pout, his head rests on your hip, pressure tickling your hip bone. “No… Dad is taking me with him out of town for a few weeks to help with the ranch that hired him.” He doesn’t dare look at anyone. It’s not the first time he was taken to different places in the country but when they came back his dad usually kept Ollie locked in for a while until he became unbearable to keep in. It’s as if he relishes in your joint misery.

Jaehyun throws you a look, looking for ways to solve this crisis. He knows you don’t like the news, he hates them too. He’s grown so fond of Ollie that knowing he’s the first to go is causing a small turmoil in his chest. Sure, he may be back and Jaehyun will still be here but one never knows how things may turn out.

“What if you and Jaehyun go? I have to take my grandparents for their pension so you two enjoy.” Ollie wishes things were that easy but his childish intuition fears that time is coming short and if you don’t spend more time with Jaehyun, he’ll feel guilty for whatever ending comes.

Ollie shakes his head, standing up. “No, it’s fine. You and him go. I’m going to take my dad anyway so I can take them too.” He attempts to smile even if he can’t. It dawns upon you that missing the trip isn’t his concern but not seeing any of you for God knows how long is what’s killing him.

You try to deny, shake your head in protest. Jaehyun does so as well, it’s not that he doesn’t want time alone with you but knowing this is his last day with Ollie for a while is killing him. Your grandparents hadn’t said anything up until this point. They weren’t fond of swimming, they never did.

“Ollie is right, you two go.” Your grandmother spoke, standing to grab her purse. “I can’t leave you two, what if you need help?” You attempt and they protest, your grandfather jumping in by throwing in Jaehyun’s limited time. It seems they’re all far more in tune with reality than you two.

You don’t know how or when but they managed to convince you and Jaehyun to go. Both attempted to protest and cancel the trip all together but here you were, in your grandfather’s old and chipped red ford. The seats torn apart, a blanket hiding away its imperfections. The red leather of the dashboard hot under Jaehyun’s touch, its form of showing that you two being left alone was real.

That now you didn’t have to talk through a window in the bathroom to spend some alone time. You didn’t have to climb on the sink and hit your head on the roof just to see his face through the mangled chicken wire and be received by concrete flakes on your lips and eyelashes whenever you attempt to kiss through it. No, here you were able to hold hands and kiss without fear of being caught (even if it didn’t matter – everyone knew).

The roads were messy and bumpy, dirt flew all around which forced you to keep the windows rolled-up despite the sun’s rays being hotter than the actual weather. Worse off is that once he came out of the truck, a gust of cold breeze rained upon him. Showing him everything he had missed while struggling with heat and keeping dust out of your airways.

It was a reward but also mockery, to him at least because you remained unphased, rejoicing on how lonely it was. “Reckon everyone is getting their pension, too?” You ask, hands on your hips, ripping some overgrown grass by your feet to make sure no venomous critters are around.

Jaehyun shrugs, letting his focus remain on his surroundings. It was amazing for him to see how deserted and destroyed this place was. Overgrown yellowing grass that stray cattle eat, ruins of houses from colonial towns signaling the fleeing of whoever had inhabited them before; your grandfather had later explained that the location was a town destroyed in the process of gaining independence.

What was prettier to him was the body of water he was here for. Multiple trees around, so green and alive in comparison to the remaining vegetation. The water is so clear and warm that he could see the steam rise the closer he got.

“Like it?” You question, to his side with towels on your shoulders. Jaehyun’s head whips, a smile on his face upon reaching for your hand, “It’s beautiful.” His fingers interlace with yours, camera in hand positioning it an arms length away when he takes the initiative to lean down and kiss you, capturing it all on film.

You shove him playfully, rushing to a dry rock where you can leave your possessions. He chases after you, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Your instinct to look away is something he does not miss and it causes a blush to creep up on his face.

He takes in the temperature of the water with his feet. Jumping back when he realizes it’s hotter than what he’s experiencing right now. “It’s not that bad.” You call out, pulling down on the bottoms of your dress swimsuit. Your smile softly falters when he doesn’t respond, rather his attention is set on how pretty you look.

The trees sway, leaving empty slots for the sunrays to seep through, illuminating you. Seemingly purposely done, to put you on a pedestal for him to look at with nothing else but admiration. That blush he had earlier rose again, one he’ll pretend is due to the water’s temperature.

“What are you looking at?” You tease, smile back on. Jaehyun approaches you with a shrug, shirt unbuttoned halfway. His fingers thread over the fabric of the straps, such a pretty lace decorated with satin red ribbon forming a bow at the front. “You.” He smiles, warm fingers touching your arms in hopes to feel closer than he already is in all senses. You don’t respond but he’s aware that the look you give him is fond.

Your hands mimic his, finding their way to his shirt and helping him undo the last few buttons, pushing off the linen to free his flesh and let it be kissed by the breeze – something you can only wish for. Once off you toss it to the pile of clothes and towels, cocking your head for him to follow you into the water. It’s glistening and steaming, soothing once his feet acclimate.

Silent sounds escape both, little by little submerging yourselves – your hands not letting go in any instance. “My mom and aunt loved to come here. They’re hypochondriacs – at least my mom is– always claiming a trip here was healing, holistic. Forcing my grandparents to put their feet in at least so the warmth would take away any aches.” Jaehyun could see how your free hand rubbed at your knees, mimicking their action.

“Pretty sure they take from my grandma but my grandpa was more of a people pleaser so he’d tell them he felt much better just so they wouldn’t feel bad. I don’t really see how this can take away all your aches. I get that it can help temporarily but not permanently.” Your shrug and words may tell him so but Jaehyun can tell that your vigorous rubbing at your own joints was a form of subconsciously believing them.

“Maybe… It seems like a mutual interaction of comfort and understanding. Your mom and aunt try their best for their parents to feel better about their bodies wearing down and in turn they receive praise and appreciation from them.”

Your hand stops its action, looking up at him with a hum. “I guess so.” You mutter, letting go of him to float on your back. “The writer in you just had to make it so philosophical.” he can hear the smile on your lips, your feet playfully kicking some water onto him to which he laughs, responding by splashing you too. Calling a truce when he was winning this battle.

As a way to comfort, he pulls you in for a hug. Your back to his chest, head resting on his shoulder and holding onto a railing to not float away far deeper. If it was for Jaehyun, he’d love to stay like this until it was time to go. For once in this entire trip you two have been truly left alone. No more sneaking kisses and late night talks through the bathroom window. It was just you and him an hour away from civilization with only the cattle as witness to the love you two didn’t speak about but embraced.

There is nothing more Jaehyun wants than to have more time with you. He wonders if things would have been different if he had fallen for you much earlier or if you had. He’s not fully sure how much you love him, he knows you’re stuck on him leaving sometime in the future which is what hinders this from going forward but he truly wishes you could see that he has no intent on leaving soon or for too long.

What if he had helped you clean the pen earlier? That would have meant spending more time with you and more outings with your family, surely. On the other hand, what if he had been useful enough during planting? It’s evident he would have never gotten close to you beside cordiality in the mornings and afternoons for meals and trips to the market.

Jaehyun cannot think of a world where this trip would result in you two not becoming closer. He can’t fathom not getting to know and falling in love with you.

Sensing his pensiveness, you turn your head, looking up at him with a questioning look that he could only interpret as trying to read his mind. He’s noticed that quirk, the way your head tilts and your lips quiver in a way to mutter a “hm” without voicing it. He makes sure to receive it with a smile, leaning in to peck your lips that surely help you abandon your actions.

“It’s a bummer Ollie didn’t come.” He attempts to distract. “Would have been nice seeing him have some fun before leaving.” There’s more to what he had said. Jaehyun wanted to add ‘before I leave’ into his sentence, it’s hanging on his tongue despite how much his brain and heart attempt to keep him wrapped around his delusion of perpetual happiness.

“I think so too.” your body twists within his arms, facing him. “I was thinking of making his favorite meal for dinner once we get back. His dad always returns him skinnier and paler than how he leaves, I need him to keep his cheeks plump, don’t you think?” Your exclamation forces a chuckle out of him, nodding in response.

“Help me find a gift for him too, then?” “Don’t spoil him too much, he’ll be an even bigger pain than he already is.” “Oh come on, don’t be so mean to the kid. Let me, please…” Jesus, if anyone was to hear you two they’d think you’re talking about a child and not a nineteen year old. But that’s what Ollie is to you both. A child you saw as yours or your brother that Jaehyun would spoil while you scold him no matter how much you loved him. You’d reckon Ollie’s presence kept you sane even if he often teased you but his nature was enough to bring entertainment for you and joy for your grandparents. If Jaehyun looks back at it, Ollie reminds him of the young boy he met in that taxi on the way to that village.

Reluctantly (faking so) you agree, rolling your eyes before pushing him off to swim away from him. He doesn’t stay too behind, chasing you for what feels like forever. Overworking your body for hours in such a hot body of water had rendered exhausting for both to the point that you basically had to drag each other out of the water just to lay on the cool metal ramp, gasping for air acclimation to avoid fainting. Jaehyun was far more concerned with you when he didn’t hear you speaking nor felt you moving, calming when you stick your tongue out at him for his nosiness although all you wanted was to see him smile.

“You complain about Ollie but it seems like the real brat here is you!” He exclaims, gaining momentum to swing his legs onto both sides of you. “Cry about it.” You mutter, a smile on your face; his hair hangs off, fuzzy around his eyes and dripping onto your cheeks. “Or… maybe I should do something to correct it.” His hair tickles your face, sticking to your cheeks the more his lips linger on them, testing the waters.

He relents when your arms wrap around his shoulders, leaving him flush over your body with nothing left but your lips to connect. They’re cold and pillowy, soft against your own just like his hands when they find purchase on your waist, holding you near as if the spring water below you will drag you out of his grasp, the last thing he needs.

Jaehyun is gentle in the way he holds and kisses you. His hands knead your skin, warming against it the more they roam around to hold you closer. Your fingers thread through his hair, sending shivers down his spine that causes him to sigh into the kiss, enough for your tongue to slip through and deepen the kiss. The intensity rose, his hands felt much hotter against your skin the lower they went, scalding when one of them grips your upper thigh –avoiding the bruising from whitey’s assault– helping it raise to rest on his hip.

Tongues mingle amongst each other, the taste of the mango juice he drank earlier still coating it to which you enjoy against your own. The thin film of saliva on both of your lips helps them slot smoothly in a far more pleasant kiss. Jaehyun’s fingers knew how to tease you, tips tickling your inner thigh that forced small groans which begged him for more.

More, more, more – Jaehyun would have given you everything if it wasn’t for the faint sound of music blaring and tires pushing dirt through Cattle began mooing, warning you of company joining, spoiling whatever comfort you two had.

You scramble to grab the towels, Jaehyun helps you, drying you off with his own and taking the remaining items under his arm to help you towards the truck, staying guard while you change into dry clothes coming in when you knock against the window. He doesn’t bother changing, claiming the air will dry him well enough upon.

You cross paths with the incoming truck, nodding your heads in acknowledgment before embarking on another long ride. Small talk made here and there, he speaks about how much this road reminds him of Western America: dry vegetation and barely any trees insight but with lively mountains that shield anyone from the sun. You tell him that it seems interesting how he describes that part while detesting Connecticut but he laughs and shrugs.

It’s not long until you stop at a gas station, the truck nearly empty and he still had to change into some dry clothes. He met you inside, walking through the aisles in search of a snack for whatever was left of the ride.

Jaehyun doesn’t share your sentiment. He finds himself distracted by a corner of toys, a bright red truck similar to the one you’re transporting through catching his eye. It glimmers under the sun rays that make way through the window panels. Jaehyun thinks it would be a good gift for Ollie, a menial one for now.

Paying for the items and heading outside with you hand in hand, Jaehyun recalls seeing a photobooth by the bathrooms. He pulls you along with no response to your questions, motioning with his head for you to push through the red velvet curtain. The first image is neutral enough, smiling while looking directly at the mirror, the flash comes in and you two hold each other. By the last two flashes it resulted in engraving the image of you two kissing.

You laugh at him for sneaking in a kiss and having it on film, he shrugs you off knowing that it was an image he’d like to see at all times and he’s hopeful you do too. You still needed to wait for at least four minutes for the film strips to develop, leading Jaehyun to slot in more coins claiming he wanted Ollie to have something to remind the young boy of the two.

Jaehyun truly wanted to say that he hoped Ollie wouldn’t forget that the two loved him. He hoped a flimsy piece of paper was enough of comfort to Ollie as they will be to him.

Pulling out a pocketbook rushedly, Jaehyun manages to scribble his support and appreciation for the young boy. That’s an image of himself alone, handing it to you to scribble something quick before the flash goes off again. The last two flashes are paraded with you two making faces you often made towards him – sticking your tongue out or scrunching your nose, the latter his favorite one.

“Good luck in your journey, you’ve done so well these past months!” “Ollie! Remember to eat all your meals and no buddy-budding with any louse. You’re a good boy!” “Fighting our lovely, Ollie!” Compliments of Jaehyun. “We love you, Ollie. More than you think.” Now that comes from the bottom of both of your hearts.

Jaehyun bought a jacket for Ollie once back in the village while grocery shopping at the market for the voyage dinner. For the first time since he arrived you had trusted him to navigate the village on his own. The everyday route was engraved onto his brain, finding you shortly with the jacket in a wrapped box. You wanted to see it but he told you you’d have to wait until Ollie opens it, he didn’t want to re-wrap this himself.

Your grandparents and Ollie didn’t arrive until a few hours later when everything was set up already. Jaehyun arranged the table outside with a fine china that belonged to you, not the one in the cabinet. He had attempted to help you in the kitchen but backed off when he saw your eye twitch the second he mixed a pot on the stove. There he learnt that getting in your way while cooking wasn’t a good idea so he instead went to feed the pen animals and loiter around to write the letter he’d give the young boy with his gifts.

Ollie could have sworn this was a delayed birthday party. Jaehyun had arrived a week after Ollie turned nineteen, missing any form of celebration. Now he was complete, this had to be a form of celebration and not a voyage dinner, it just had to. Otherwise why would he be crying at the dinner table?

Ollie would like to think his tears represented the impending doom you were all to face one way or another with his absence. Both figuratively and and literally; comically and realistically.

The hands on his back and shoulders try their best to comfort him, whispers of how this was yet another trip meant to minimize the meaning of this but Ollie knew something was wrong, something none of you did just yet. He smiled widely, tears streaming down his face, laughing in order to control himself but your gentle wiping and hugs made him fall deeper into that feeling. His childish intuition as you all call it.

Jaehyun on the other hand decides to pull out his gifts in hopes it would help but it only made Ollie cry harder. The younger spews his thank you’s, hugging Jaehyun for comfort to which the older one takes, his own heart filling with such an aching pulsation. He ignores it, it doesn’t matter what he’s feeling, he wants Ollie to take a good look and remember him in a bright light.

Ollie wore the jacket all night and took it on his trip – along the letter–, never letting anyone touch it. He left the truck with you and your grandparents, he knew it’d be far more safe with you than with his brothers.

The dinner didn’t spoil after his crying fit. Your grandmother had playfully scolded him to get a grip while your grandfather helped him with a shot of liquor. It progressed onto serving them all dinner, Jaehyun helping you throughout all steps while your grandpa complained about the long lines for their pension and all the old people as if he wasn’t one of them. Your grandmother only backed him up a few times, rebutting his claims in others just for the sake of arguing which caused laughs to leave everyone.

It wasn’t anything new, Jaehyun had grown accustomed to their conversations. They may argue right now but other times the tone of their voices sounded harsh when all they were doing was conversing, as peaceful as they knew how. He wonders if this will ever be you two although he’s not sure he could raise his voice at you or vice versa.

Night had fallen faster than any of you would have wanted. Usually Ollie would leave whenever he pleased and no one would bat an eye but in the past hour his father had called nearly ten times and it was bothering your grandparents. You and Jaehyun too but not as much as the elders since they were the ones inside. Your grandmother had been yelling from her bed to tell Ollie his dick of a father was on the line again, in fact by the fifth call no one answered, they just knew.

So when the tenth call had rung, Ollie who had been helping you put away the left overs answered angrily telling his father to fuck off and that he’d be on the way soon, received with some scolding from him that he didn’t finish spewing from how fast Ollie hung up. It didn’t mean your scolding wasn’t on the way with how piercing your glare was.

Like a kicked sad puppy, Ollie goes to you in hopes his affection would soften the blow. “That’s not how I’ve raised you, Oliver! Your dad may be a deadbeat but you still shouldn’t talk to him like that – at least in our presence!” Your fingers nip his earlobe, a yelp leaving his bitten lips and a grunt to follow.

“You know my grandparents don’t like when you talk back so don’t do it again when they’re around, okay?” You say, a hand on your hip like a mother scolding her child. That’s essentially how you saw him and how he saw you.

“So I can talk back in front of you?” A cheeky smile received with a soft pinch to his ear. “No!” Your smile betrayed your words. He giggles at the reaction he got out of you, twisting out of your grasp to take you into a hug.

“I really wish you would just enjoy the present and the time you have with Jaehyun without dwelling on how long or how little he has left here. Enjoy the love he’s giving you and return yours, he needs it too, Y/n. For what is left...”

He sighs, holding you in a firmer grasp. Words don’t quite describe what you want to answer with but you knew he was right despite your initial hostility.

You kiss his cheek, nodding as a response. He mimics your actions before waving and heading over to your grandparents to bid his goodbyes before leaving through the middle room.

Jaehyun doesn’t know why he disappeared after dessert. Perhaps he didn’t want to face Ollie when he left and had to say goodbye, he wasn’t good with those. So here he was, on the roof next to the water tank, filling it up as an excuse to why he was so detached from everyone else. It didn’t matter though, Ollie had found him immediately that when Jaehyun heard the clanking of boots he gifted the boy against the rusted ladder, he felt dread.

He pretended to be people watching, seeing how a guy on the right side cleaned his car (it is meant to rain tomorrow or overnight). In the front, a woman bathes her dogs within the vicinity of her patio, the dog shaking and getting the water all over her. On the dirt filled path, children rode their bicycles, going around any ditches and potholes that would make them fall.

Ollie joins him, standing besides, focusing far more on how the sun was setting. He allows Jaehyun to speak first but frowns when he doesn’t; the faint sound of the phone ringing again makes him shut his eyes.

“Thank you for the gifts, you’ve done far more for me than my own dad.” He bitterly chuckles. Jaehyun turns to him, a small grin on his face that falls when the younger one speaks again.

“You’re avoiding me.” “No.”

His voice wavers, eyes trying to show Ollie he wasn’t. Ollie chuckles again, shaking his head.

“I get it, don’t worry. I don’t want to say bye either.” “I don’t want to say bye.”

Ollie nods, looking at the sights Jaehyun had looked upon. The car was clean despite the sprinkling, a child had missed a bump and fell, and the dog was laying back on dirt.

“Jaehyun, it does mean a lot to me what you’ve done these months. You kind of suck with labor and all but you’ve been of great help.” He laughs, hoping his teasing jab will ease the tension. Jaehyun rolls his eyes, hitting the back of his head softly with a silent laugh. “I’m serious though, you’ve been of great help to Y/n, it’s not easy dealing with the house work and being a caretaker. I think you’ve helped liven her up more. I’m glad you’re able to think about your present with her. I hope it doesn’t change, you make her happy and we like seeing her this way.” Ollie sighs looking at his watch, the sun has set.

“I hope you’re still here by the time I come back home–” He laughs, cutting himself off. “It’s not even my home.”

“I’ve never felt more at home than here, I understand.”

Ollie smiles at his claims, he nods with a final sigh. Before going down he gives Jaehyun a final hug and a tight squeeze. The older man mimics his actions to demonstrate his own affection.

Midway down the ladder, Ollie stops and Jaehyun tilts his head. “By the way, this came after you left earlier today.” He pulls out a wrinkled envelope from his back pocket. Immediately recognizing the ivory color and red wax seal, all Jaehyun knows is that he won’t read it any time soon.

“Bye, Jaehyun.” “Bye, Ollie.”

–

Things didn’t go back to normal after Ollie’s departure, no matter how hard everyone pretended that this hadn’t created a rupture into the atmosphere – a breach to the eco. It goes to say that Ollie helped things feel easy and fun, he was the joy you all needed and now he was gone. Things felt mundane again and to Jaehyun this wasn’t a foreign feeling but one he did not want to have here.

A week and a half without him already feels like an eternity. You and Jaehyun wonder if this is what parents feel when their children finally part ways.

On the brightside, his conversation with you helped you ease into what you felt for Jaehyun. Yes, you still sneaked kisses and affectionate touches here and there out of respect for your grandparents but it was so obvious what you two had that the elders didn’t tease you anymore for the glances and blush.

Mail day has arrived and Jaehyun once again has received a letter, one he thinks about throwing onto the pile of drafts he’s written and discarded. The letter Ollie handed him before he left tucked in between those.

He thanks the mailman, putting down the rake he used to pick up fallen leaves. Your grandfather had taught him to put them in a pile to later be burned. He contemplates throwing the letter in, watching the red wax seal spread as it melts. He can't, though, the bold red letters screaming “URGENT!” make themselves present to him.

Jaehyun sighs, shaking his head wondering what it was now as he opens the envelope. Simple greetings, some scolding and questioning, and a plane ticket. What? That was enough for Jaehyun to ignore his nonchalant attitude and let panic take over him. He took the effort to read over the letter closely without missing a detail.

Why the hell would he have a plane ticket?!

‘Dear Jaehyun,

No, scratch that. What the hell is wrong with you? We haven’t heard back from you since that call and you’re not answering the one letter we sent you. We figure and understand you’re having a great time but it does not mean you’re meant to forget your responsibilities back home. Remember how you’re supposed to send drafts? Right, you haven’t done that and given the changes made while you’ve been gone it’s best you get to it!

We miss you so don’t regard this letter as totally reproachful. Please be sure to be here and don’t miss your plane. We’ll make sure to send a fax before you make it to the airport. Till then, enjoy your time and give us a call as soon as you can.

Sincerely, Jude.’

Well this has severed his plans and mood. Was it not enough to have one departure?

30 AUG 87, 17:30 time of departure, one way only. Red bold letters mirroring the ones that caught his attention to read the components of the letter. If he had known it was for this, he would’ve thrown it in the pile of leaves and act clueless if he was to ever receive an emergency call.

His aggravation was noticeable to you the second he stepped inside the vicinity of the patio. His face sunken, something it wasn’t before leaving to clean outside. Not to mention it seemed like he was biting the inside of his cheeks, holding in his breath as a form of repression. You watch carefully, pretending to not have noticed him while cutting sugar canes near his room.

He sees you and he wants to ask something or at least find a way to begin this conversation. He should tell you, no? He should, he knows it but he’s scared and also a coward who waits for you to throw the first stone.

“Something happened?” Jaehyun stops by the step before the kitchen, facing you with a slight shake of head. “Um… does the phone run overseas calls?” It’s your turn to shake your head, firmly unlike him. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He bolts out towards Gabby’s with the ticket inside his pocket, crumbled and wrinkled like the letter Ollie handed him. The older woman seemed to have understood the reason for his visit. The second she saw the familiar face, she pulled that phone she loved so much to the counter along with the catalog and timer, dialing the code before handing it to him. Jaehyun was thankful she didn’t drag it out, he needed answers immediately.

One ring, two rings, “Hello?” Good, rapid enough.

Jaehyun grips the phone, a tight hold that makes his subconscious scared that he’ll pop this heirloom. “I don’t want to go back!” Well, that’s a way to start a conversation.

Hyunjoo laughs, calling Jude over to let him know their golden boy finally contacted them after four months. Jude wasn’t as kind as Hyunjoo, he took the fatherly role seriously and began berating the younger of the three on why he had gone rogue.

“What if something had happened to you? Do you not care for what we feel, Jaehyun. If it wasn’t for this idiot I would’ve sent you letters and even gone to pick you up, so don’t ever pull this on us again! On me, again!” One can only imagine how red he was, up to his receding hairline.

Jaehyun would’ve laughed in the past but now the life he’s built here is soon to crumble and he doesn’t like it. “It doesn’t mean you guys can just force me back! I’ve built something here, I have something going on! I love it here and I don’t want to leave!” He whines, obvious hurt in his wavering voice.

“Yeah, well, whatever you have going on should be finished soon. You know, you only went there for inspiration and to blow some steam off, Yuno. Nothing else, my boy.” If Hyunjoo was there he would pat his cheek reassuringly, unaware of how much Jaehyun hated his little acts of condescension and belittling.

Jaehyun didn’t want to finish what he had here, he wanted to stay forever. He wanted to stay with you, your grandparents, and Ollie. He wanted to be here by the time Ollie came back to greet him with a big hug, a meal, and a trip to the hot spring he wasn’t able to enjoy before leaving. He wanted to build a life with you. Court you properly, date you, travel with you. Even marry you, he doesn’t care how early this is or how late, he wants you and everyone he’s learnt to love these months in his life. Of course his career had to get in between him and his happiness like always.

Jude sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Listen, Jaehyun… There’s nothing we can do, have you read the letter we sent you a few weeks back? That explains it all. Believe me when I say that if it was for me, you could stay there for as long as you want and go back whenever the book is published–”

“That’s the plan.” He interrupts, teeth gritting. Jude and Hyunjoo give each other a look, one that would make Jaehyun feel far more defensive if he could see it. “Jaehyun… things have changed within the publishing house. Go read the letter and we’ll see you Monday, yeah?”

Jude waited for an answer that Jaehyun never gave him. He hung up quite forcibly, receiving a glare from the store owner who muttered the amount. He didn’t stay for his change nor cared for her screams telling him to take it. Jaehyun was in an irritable mood that no one could take away from him today.

Things were definitely not fine. That’s as much as you and your grandpa could decree when Jaehyun crossed the patio straight into his room, closing the door behind him without uttering a word. The elder and you removed kernels in front of his window, under the tree for shade. You could hear him mumble incoherently, his eyebrows furrowing the further he read.

“What bug bit him?” Your grandpa whispers, cocking his head to the open window. You shrug, throwing away the cob into a bucket, fuel for the chimney. “Go ask then.” So persistent and straight to business. “What? No! I’ll wait until he tells me, pa…” But you did want to ask him what was wrong, more than anything. It’s just that your cowardice won’t allow you. The older man rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disappointment while feeding the chickens with fallen kernels.

Time and him can only tell what he’s feeling.

‘Dear Jaehyun,

For starters, we miss you dearly. At least I do but find it in your heart to believe Hyunjoo does so as well. We’ve respected your wishes on not contacting you, even through letters but it’s been over three months and you have yet to let us know how you are doing. Do you not care for mine and your family’s well being? I care for yours, I’ve been restless all these months wondering how you are doing. It’s far too irresponsible to not even contact your own family, Jaehyun.

Is the book in the works? How are the drafts? You know we needed drafts mailed throughout your stay, young man. How is the host treating you? I figure well enough if you haven’t contacted us yet. If not then I’ll see myself forced to call the national guard if I don’t hear from you soon!

Regardless, some updates on how things are going on our end. We’ve been able to fake some notices here and there to the publishing house about yours and the drafts whereabouts. If you must know, if you haven’t figured it out already – which is possible, being in such an isolated village… – Mark is in the process of publishing his next book. His last ones have been a great success and been able to knock some of yours from bestsellers therefore things are becoming harsh around here.

The publishing house wants you back immediately and wants your book ready. Hyunjoo has managed to give you more time before it’s edited and the final print is chosen but the new investors are pushing the house and they are desperate for a contender against Mark’s book. So please, cut your time short and don’t miss your plane! I’ll make sure to send the ticket soon when I’m able to obtain it.

Best regards, Jude.’

Jaehyun doesn’t know what to think. He now understands multiple jobs are on the line but so is his happiness. Even so if he goes and turns in whatever he has – which isn’t enough for even a first draft – what guarantees all of them that it will be published by the time Mark’s is? They can’t just publish some nonsensical thoughts he’s scribbled down for the sake of beating another child protege author.

Mark’s work is far different from Jaehyun’s, he’s youthful in the way he writes, his metaphors are far more enthusiastic and fun. He’s great within young audiences and those seeking to remove themselves from melancholia. He’s everything Jaehyun isn’t and in both their brains, they know they can’t compete for something neither are reaching for.

Matter of fact, that’s not his concern right now. His concern is on how to break the news to you and your family. He’s supposed to leave by the end of this week, what are you going to do in such a short notice? What is he going to do in such short notice? Things were finally starting to align, why must bad things always happen to him– you– both.

One thing is for sure, he has to tell you immediately. But first he’s going to go back to Gabby’s and buy whichever pack of beers and some chips, maybe even some bread in case you feel your blood pressure rise (he’ll eat it, most likely). Arriving there and getting the items, he’s grateful the older woman honored the change he had left, even gifted him a chocolate as she sensed that something was off. Jaehyun thanks her and contemplates on saying goodbye but it’s too soon. Instead he nods and waves on his way back.

He doesn’t have the courage to go past the threshold, opting to sit on the uncomfortable and textured concrete bench by the door of your’s and your grandmother’s bedroom. He hears the loud melodrama of her soap operas and the sewing machine she doesn’t leave alone. Another dress for you, he figures she’s making.

There’s the faint sound of music coming from your grandfather’s car, the one he and Ollie worked on often and that Jaehyun began helping with due to his absence. It pains Jaehyun to know that the elder will once again lose the aid he claims to not want but appreciates wholeheartedly.

His sigh elicits company, or perhaps the pop from the beer bottle had attracted it so here you were, standing by the metal threshold that separated you and him from inside to outside. Your head tilts, looking at him as if trying to read the grievances on his face.

“Misery likes company.”

Your voice makes his head snap, eyes glistening while drowning in the sweetness of your company. He smiles shortly, patting the empty spot to his right, the sun is setting fastly.

He takes your hand into his, kissing the palm and fingers before pulling you in for an embrace. All of this was scaring you the more and more he remained quiet and it only seems like your brain was already processing the inevitable.

“Got a letter from my manager…” “So?”

“My “rival” is putting out a book soon according to them and they want me to send in a draft already for the final print.” His fingers curl at the quotation marks, rolling his eyes at how stupid it all felt. “Ah… well, do you have anything to send then?” He shakes his head, apologies on your face. “We can stay this entire week so you can work on it, how does that sound? Pa doesn’t have to check on the crops any time soon and there isn’t really anywhere else we could go, not anywhere near.”

There’s so much pep in your voice that it hurts to think about how short the remaining days will feel. He has to tell you and he has to tell you now.

“I leave this Sunday, Y/n.” “Oh.”

Jaehyun didn’t mean to say it like this but how else was he meant to? He didn’t want to drag it out longer nor agitate you but he also didn’t want to hurt you and that’s all he can read on your face. Hurt.

Misery does love company.

Your body slumps against the adobe wall, harsh against your backbones. The hand he holds falls limp against his touch and all Jaehyun can do as comfort is kissing it before placing the open bottle in your hand, opening another for himself.

He hadn’t had the time to burn the pile of leaves and the sun was far more foreign by now. That shade of blue coloring his face, an obvious demonstration of his feelings from the past hour. Yet it’s you who takes the initiative to take out the box of matches from the apron you wear, forgetting that you were cooking dinner just to check up on him.

The flame catches fast, rising as you whisper your grievances into it, taking a sip of your drink. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, he tries to take a hold of your hand but he hesitates, fearful that you won’t want it. Instead he throws both letters onto the fire, helping its consumption and anger. At least now you both have let something go.

The morning after, both elders made sure to not ask any favors out of him and let him to his own vices. They understood he’s meant to get his work done so they didn’t want to add stress onto him. But this continued onto the third and fourth day of the week and Jaehyun was aching more and more as his time fell short. He felt just as inutile as his first week, if not more than that week. He also felt his heart ache only having meals to spend with you all but even then he began feeling like the foreigner he was.

Conversations with him were as cordial as before but not as cheery. They asked about his book and what he had ready. They asked if his suitcase was prepared and if he was happy to go back home. Your grandpa did his best to joke around but would soon drop it when he felt his voice tremble. He’s always worn his heart in his sleeve and another one he saw as a son will now leave him again.

Your grandmother on the other hand was the most level headed. She made sure Jaehyun was kept on track with his work and even helped clean his room when he begged her not to tire herself. She’s faced much loss and pain, a stranger leaving wasn’t going to knock her down. If anything, she feels for how you will act once he’s gone.

By dinner time you and your grandfather had bolted out of the kitchen, feeding the animals any leftovers and giving them their own meal. That left him and your grandmother in the kitchen. She was in the process of taking some water from the bucket in the chimney, he did it instead. Pouring it into another container where your grandmother would then add cold water for balance.

She thanked him and told him he should go back to work but Jaehyun didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be alone, he’s been so for the past three days and it’s corroding his soul. He wants to take away the happy memories, he wants his final days to be fun. He’s begging for you all to not do this to him. He needs contact and affection, he needs it.

“So… you have everything ready?” She tries to converse, passing the soapy sponge over the dirty plates. He nods, rinsing it. “Not excited, I’m guessing.” Jaehyun’s pout is enough of an answer. “Look at it on the brightside. You’ll be able to get it over with and the doors here are always open for you.”

He should know she means it, the problem is that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. How long will it take for the book to be published? How long will promotions last? What if he’s forced to work on something else straight after? Jesus Christ, he’s not even back yet and he’s already stressing about his reality.

“Yeah?” “Yes.”

Jaehyun smiles at her.

“Will you take care of Y/n for me?” He asks again, putting away the dishes he’s rinsed. She laughs nodding, “She’s taking care of us, I think she’ll manage well.” Jaehyun laughs as well, feeling foolish. “I don’t think you should worry too much about her, Jaehyun. She’s strong and can handle this. As long as you two keep in contact, I believe it will be fine.” She pats his back, leaving a wet hand print that warms his muscles.

He contemplates on taking the advice. Your grandmother has said everything he already knows about you but perhaps he’s projecting his own feelings. He’ll need another source for advice and there’s no one better than your grandfather.

Jaehyun excuses himself, rinsing and drying the few dishes left before walking out to help your grandfather on the car. The older man sat pensive while looking around the vehicle, loud music coming out of it to drown any thoughts.

Hopping on the co-pilot seat, Jaehyun smiles at him, dusting away some stray picked up dust. “It’s looking better now.” He compliments, your grandpa nods, humming with a following hearty laugh. “You’re much better at this than me.” The older one shakes his head, continuing his laughter. “These things take time, you just need to practice more. When you come back I’ll help you with it.” Your grandpa is far more hopeful than the rest of you, that reassures him enough.

“You’ll let me in again?”

“Yes. You make my kids happy and you’ve been of great help even when you didn’t have to.” His laughter subsided, turning into a smile he was struggling to maintain. “It’s a shame you’re leaving so soon.” He hiccups, waterworks on the way. “We’ll miss you, kid. Especially Y/n…” The mention of your name was enough for him to begin his silent sobs, tears beginning to spill.

If there is one thing he can count on is your grandfather expressing what you and your grandmother aren’t able to. Jaehyun sniffles himself, comforting with some rubs to the older’s shoulder before hugging him. Now he knows how appreciated and loved he is and for that he is thankful.

Your grandpa attempts to stop crying, laughing in between to seem like everything was fine. That was always his way of trying to control himself. “You’ll come back, right?” Jaehyun nods, smiling at him while wiping away a stray tear. “As soon as possible. I want a life here.” Your grandfather smiles at him, looking straight to where his headlights shine.

“I’m not from here either. I was born and raised in a city an hour or two from here– you’ve been there, that’s where the airport is.” Jaehyun recalls his first day, the bustling and loud city with historical architecture. It was beautiful, surely, but it doesn’t compare to this village and its own beauty.

“I’ve worked my entire life since I can remember, seven to be specific. By eighteen I found myself here, I was young and my only experience came from the mines and cleaning cars but agriculture is a booming business here so somehow I found my way to a ranch that was hiring to work on machinery. I didn’t know how to work a car let alone a tractor but I was hungry and needed money to send back home. My dad died when I was only three and my mom was left alone with five kids. I had to help her. I lied my way through with the owner and I was young so he took me in.”

Everyone starts somewhere and soon falls in love with the place.

“I stayed at a shack they had built by plots, their own home wasn’t too far so I often went by to ask for a glass of water. That’s when I met Y/n’s grandmother. She’s always been this cold and serious. I would chug the water down and then beg her for more. She would roll her eyes and complain but would always come back with it filled to the brim, ice cold.” He laughs, tears finally gone.

“From then on I kept trying to talk with her even if she pretended to hate it. I’d ask her sisters and sometimes her brothers but it was tricky, I didn’t want them to beat my ass up for thinking about their sister! So, I would have enough with whatever conversations we would have when she brought the workers drinks and food or at dances. One time her own father told me to ask her to dance and since then I never left her alone. With his blessing, then none of her family would interfere and sooner than later I asked her to marry me so here we are, sixty years later and twelve kids.”

“Is this you giving me your blessing to be with Y/n?” Jaehyun half jokes but there’s so much sincerity in his voice that he can’t deny being hopeful. The older man nods and laughs, clasping his back. “As if you needed it… I often went back to my own family but still came back because I love this place and everything it has offered me. Similar to you… I hope your love for Y/n is as strong as mine was years ago. I would hate to see a different fate for you two.”

Jaehyun didn’t know how to respond to that, he truly wished to be back as soon as possible and he would fight tooth and nail to make it possible. Yes, it’s different from him and your grandfather due to the distance but he will make it work because he loves you, he loves you so much that he can’t seem to express it properly.

“Thank you…” “It’s just advice.”

The older man leaves him to his vices and thoughts. With another laugh and a nod bidding him goodnight, he turns the car off, leaving Jaehyun in the dark.

Jaehyun thinks about both conversations all night. He feels a sense of relief knowing he’s had a heart to heart with two of the most important people in your life. It’s good to know they approve of him and the love he has for you. He hopes you’re as understanding and hopeful as your grandparents.

Saturday came as a surprise to him. The roosters weren’t the ones to wake him up, it was your grandpa who excitedly told him to gather all his things. Jaehyun tried to question what was going on but the elder gave him no time. His hearty laugh was enough of an answer, taking the few suitcases he saw in the corner while pushing Jaehyun into the restroom to get ready. He’s not sure what’s going on but he won’t protest, it’s the first time this week that he feels included.

Within half an hour everyone was ready, Jaehyun noticed you too were surprised by the sudden change of plans. You weren’t your usual put-together self and kept yawning resulting in you sleeping throughout the entire car ride. He took this moment to take pictures of the road. Previously he had compared it to his time in West America, he now doesn’t think it’s too comparable. The vegetation is bright and green, most of it coming from incoming crops and lively trees.

Within an hour your grandfather stopped at a town, it was time for breakfast. Both raved about the food despite how spicy it was while you and your grandmother made fun of them. Jaehyun took this chance to take more pictures, candid ones of you and your family with the prettiest decoration in the background. Every memory counts.

Afterwards, you all take a moment to explore the quaint town for a bit, simply so Jaehyun can get some souvenirs. It reminded him of two past towns he’s visited during his time here. One where he had to fight for a seat to be able to eat. Meal which ended up being one of the most disgusting things he’s ever had. He won’t ever tell the rest of you that but you share his sentiment. The second one being where your grandpa struggled to find parking and almost left. He likes that one better.

It’s not to say this town isn’t beautiful, it is. It’s historical, colorful, and calm. Very calm and quiet, something that reminds him of the best village which is where he resided for the past few months. How he loves it there and he’ll hold it to his heart.

Getting his pictures and souvenirs, it was set to take another two hours on the road, only stopping when having to use the restroom which unfortunately due to age is something your grandparents needed often. In those moments Jaehyun would reminisce on the day you two took those photos and bought Ollie’s truck, the one he saw daily perched next to the fine china in the cabinet with a passport picture of him.

“Well here we are, the city I was born in.” Your grandfather’s voice made sure to take away the last bits of drowsiness from you. Your last visit was at fifteen and from the looks of it, nothing had changed. It’s amazing for Jaehyun to tell how different life was between the countryside and the city. The moment you all came to see the skyscrapers and bridges, it felt like a totally different part of the world. It was louder, much more polluted and littered, but for sure not horrendous. Your grandfather made sure to tell him the story of this city like he had done for every village and town visited.

For the majority of the day you all spent it looking around. At the entrance, your grandparents pushed you to ride on the cableway that dropped you off directly downtown. You tried to make them get in it with you both but they excused themselves with being too old and preferring to meet you there with the car. You all knew it was so you and Jaehyun could spend a couple of minutes alone.

“It’s pretty.” “Not as pretty as home.”

Jaehyun smiles at you, taking your hand into his. You return the gesture, squeezing his warm hand in yours.

“Is your city pretty? I’ve heard it is.”

“I’m not talking about where I’ll go back, Y/n. I’m talking about back home. With you, your grandparents, and Ollie.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. Within you and the colorful buildings beneath, Jaehyun is sure to say the view during his time has always been beautiful.

“Do you truly want a life with me?” You shift, close yet with a distance. It was a simple answer, there’s no reason to lie. His smile, dimples, eyes, and even his reddened ears told you he did. Words are preferable though. “Yes.” leaves his rosy lips, kissing you to imprint the confirmation.

Only time will tell how true to his word he is.

You met your grandparents shortly, both bickering about where to reside when night befalls. The topic fell to deaf ears, prefering to explore more about the city. Murals that he wouldn’t forget, traffic as bad as where he resides with the exception that entertainment began the second redlights turn on. Street food that smells delicious and calls his name within every second.

It’s similar yet so distinct from what he has learned to love. It’s clear to him that no matter how familiar you are to one thing, there will always be more to learn about it.

It was near dinner time and within an hour or two from sundown. That forced your grandparents to argue again about the same thing from earlier. This time you two got to learn that your grandfather wanted to rest in his childhood home with his family while your grandmother wanted to avoid that at all costs. She’ll tolerate a visit but won’t give them the benefit of being their host, that’s her role. Not to mention she won’t forget all their wrongdoings towards her and her husband no matter how much the latter attempts to have a happy family.

Words thrown here and there, you all decree to eat out. Both you and your grandmother brought up the time his sister cooked unhygienically that he ended up having a stomach bug for the following three days. He laughs at this and leads you all to your favorite spot, somewhere Jaehyun yearns to taste again for years to come.

You all do end up visiting his family before the sun falls, a quick in and out situation. Jaehyun didn’t pay too much attention to the conversations, he was more entranced with the portraits on the walls and the cracks of chipped paint that told the story of this home.

“Why do you keep looking at the cracks?”

Your voice forces Jaehyun to turn to you, extending his hand to feel your warmth. “Do you think they’re due to poor care or the house growing old with its inhabitants? Your grandpa said he doesn’t recall the ones from this wall.” Your head tilts, looking at them as if you two were in a museum. Perhaps you should take him there tomorrow before his departure.

“Will you write that in your book?” He laughs, taking you into an embrace. “Okay smarty pants how do you word it normally, then?” You return the gesture. “I wouldn’t even think about it for starters, there’s so many back home. Why would I care about this one?”

“I’ve seen how much care you all give the home, there’s barely any cracks. The question is answered for that house.”

“Then… I guess you can find an answer for this one. We’ve been here for an hour or so and there’s plenty more people living here who haven’t greeted them at least.”

You both turn to your grandparents. Grandma sitting silently and aggravated in the corner with a cup of water that she hasn’t touched. Your grandfather enjoys his talk with his sisters despite their spouses talking over and for them. His nephews and nieces, nowhere seen but heard through these same cracks Jaehyun wonders so much about.

Yes, he has his answer. A house without love crumbles faster.

The sun had fallen sooner than expected and with that your grandmother finally found an excuse to leave. The other elders offered to let you all stay with no avail when even your grandfather told them it wasn’t necessary. He knew of a nearby hotel, clean, and hospitable that you could all stay at and his wishes were final.

Immediately as the doors were closed behind your backs, the ruckus of the other four families living there could be heard. It’s clear as day where their intentions laid and why not a single picture of you or your family was on their walls.

When questioning why he denied their offer knowing other times he’d agree immediately, he only muttered a simple: “They didn’t even greet you or Jaehyun. What kind of hosts will they be?” Jaehyun felt a part of the family.

Room distribution went as follows. Your grandfather and Jaehyun would share a room, each with their own bed. Same thing applied to you and your grandmother, a concept you knew too well. This was the first and final night in which you two wouldn’t share a kiss through the bathroom window. You miss it like you’ll miss him.

The following morning isn’t as kind to either of you. The previous day none of you were able to process the severity that it was his final day with all of you. Enamored with what the city offered and the warmth of feeling loved by everyone within the circle, no one felt the harsh reality that is now overcoming you all. There’s ten hours left of his stay.

Silence is the first thing that you all notice, no matter how hard you all try to erase it. Being aware that time is ticking weighs down on your shoulders. Walking through these streets feels slightly surreal. Like a Dali painting, walking through a sea of melting clocks. A torment is what he’d call it.

He manages to get a few more souvenirs, he’s not sure for who or if he’s trying his best to collect every single piece as a memory, he’ll lean towards the latter. Besides, he snags some final gifts for you, your family, and even Ollie, it’s the least he can do besides memories. He’ll be taking those and who knows when he’ll be able to show them to you all.

Within the fifth hour your grandparents rendered themselves tired and tried forcing you two to go on your own. Jaehyun didn’t want that, as much as he loves time with you, he also loves spending time with them. The two have taught him many things, brought many laughs and anecdotes he cherishes dearly.

To be maintained happy, he invites you all to a final dinner. It’s much earlier than usual but he would miss his flight if you’d have to wait till usual hours. Your grandparents attempt to protest, claiming they’re bad hosts if they let him pay but they’re fighting a losing battle and Jaehyun will make sure he can grant them everything before he goes back to reality.

It’s by far enjoyable and it helps him reminisce on all previous meals within those cold adobe walls he loved since day one. It’s dim in the restaurant, recalling the time it rained so hard the streets became rivers and light went out for the remainder of the day. You all ate under candle light while your grandparents told scary stories of the village.

Dinner was the only condition for you to leave your grandparents to rest. With all the heaviness in his heart, Jaehyun fulfilled their wishes. And while you thought it was best to leave them at the hotel, the two continued their stubborn streak and ended up sitting at a park to people-watch. Naturally, they needed live entertainment.

Three and a half hours left, so little time and so much left to do.

You essentially were a tourist just as him, both experiencing new attractions that you only saw in passing the one time you came by. It led to both jumping from museum to museum. National and independent, art and history, for food and tools. It didn’t matter but it filled the empty space and the forced silence helped neither of you spill what flooded your minds.

“I liked the tools museum better.” You retort, almost skipping down the steps to avoid the sun rays. It was much hotter than it ever had been back in town. “Really? I thought the history museum was really nice.” He covers his eyes, rushing to your side. “Nothing Pa hasn’t told you.” He nods, shrugging with a little shimmy to his shoulders.

He looks at his watch and sighs, there isn’t much time left. “Where to next?” His words form a pit in your stomach, forcing yourself to look at the numbers on it. You ignore it, dawning on you that you’ve never spoken in-depth about his job. What’s your thought process when coming up with your books?”

He hums, “For my first books, they were all inspired by cases I heard back home. Where I was born. They’re bleak but there’s still a sense of hope. On top of it I read a lot of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy growing up so I felt like a cynic comparing both their work, trying my best to create a middle ground that would represent me.” He cocks his head, it’s a bitter taste to him these days.

“Those two lead to my last two. I’m not fond of them, I won’t lie. They’re rushed and robotic, it’s noticeable in the tone but the publishing house wanted something fast and since they sold well, they didn’t care about how I felt, that’s why I’m here now. They wanted this book to be rushed and as miserable as those but I can’t handle writing anything of the sorts anymore. I would’ve ended up like Plath, Hemingway or Dazai if I wrote about how miserable life is once again.”

Jaehyun couldn’t understand if the look on your face was pity or empathy, he didn’t want to see it. “Don’t worry about this one. I’ve found meaning and great inspiration. I’ll dedicate it to you.”

You laugh against his lips, pulling away to kiss his cheek. “How will I know when it’ll come out?” He shrugs, kissing your hand. “I don’t either but I’ll make sure to deliver the copy straight to you.”

“What makes you think I’ll still be here by the time it’s published?”

Jaehyun was under the impression that you’d be here too. Your grandmother had reassured him they would always have their doors and arms open for him but he never thought that meant without you.

“I’ll find my way to you even if I have to go to the end of the world so I can read the token of my adoration for you.”

‘Of my love’ is what he wants to say, hanging on his tongue yet too scared to dive out. You seem to read his mind, kissing him instead to swallow what neither of you can say just yet.

There was still some time left but nothing else worth seeing. Perhaps it was best to gather all your belongings from the hotel, you had the keys to the car and it shouldn’t take you too long. By this point it would be best to waste time at the airport, as dreaded as it is.

Upon arrival time made itself present. The father clock in the lobby allows its ticking to echo through the tiles that you love. The ones in each room weren’t any better. Screaming far louder than the rest that when Jaehyun finished packing his and your grandfather’s bag to make way towards your room, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. Dreadful and painful as the feeling in his heart.

He watched you look through the night stands, making sure your grandmother’s medication wasn’t left behind. He had done the same for your grandfather, his medicine case tucked inside his bag. There’s a forlorn look in his eyes, you don’t miss it when turning to smile at him, comfortingly. You want to ask about it but fear it will consume you as well if you dwell on it.

“Ready?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, joining you on the bed and taking you in a tight embrace. In every sense he wasn’t ready to part ways. You try to laugh it off, kissing his cheek and tightening your grip. Your hands caressing his back to bring some type of comfort but it does the opposite.

Jaehyun can now understand why your grandfather breaks down so easily. The weight of one’s emotions are soon to leave when you allow yourself to be free. That may also explain why he’s always so joyful, he’s free of all his grievances but for Jaehyun it will follow him for eternity if things are not fixed as soon as possible.

“This isn’t the last time, Jaehyun… Please don’t cry.” You cradle his face, wiping away his tears that shine like diamonds under the sun rays peeking in through the window. He hiccups, sniffling to control his sobs. “It doesn’t change how difficult it is to say goodbye.” He pouts, lips so rosy and puffed. You kiss them tenderly for comfort and warmth, it’s the least you could do. Words aren’t your forte and you don’t want him to see how gutted you truly are despite trying to hold a front all this time.

Jaehyun returns the actions of affection, holding you for dear life while kissing you like no tomorrow. Muffled words leave him, incoherent to you yet you swallow them. Like the blood of Christ, you don’t let a blood drop if it means your salvation.

“I-I” He attempts to sound what he wants to say, you don’t allow him. Shaking your head fervently, slipping your tongue in the cavity of his mouth to mute him further. You know what he wants to say but if he does, it will make things far more difficult than they already are.

Jaehyun submits to your cowardice and lets the ticking of the clocks guide him. His hands hold your body near him, pulling you onto his lap to feel you closer. He wants more and so do you, God knows when you’ll meet again.

Fingers threading through his hair, sliding down to his neck, kneading the warm skin you love so much. The actions lead to silent mewls to leave his lips for you to take. You’re so appreciative of the gift that you deepen the kiss, letting his hands roam under your blouse to feel you closer and closer. It’s your turn to gift him a sweet sound that he wishes he could trap into a music box for him to wind and listen to it on repeat daily.

Jaehyun decrees that your blouse is in the way. Too thick and cold, nothing like your skin as he feels now. His large hands take a firm grip of the textile, pulling it off. You’re exposed and he can read what your heart has hidden all this time. Jaehyun prefers to kiss it away, his pillowy lips delicately falling against your chest. Kissing it tenderly to create more of those pretty sounds that hypnotize him.

You hold him while he does, kissing the crown of his head. Granting him what he wants while your hips softly rock against his, friction forcing him to become rougher. A soft gasp leaves your lips when he softly nips the goosebump filled skin, nimble fingers undoing your brazier. One hand covering one while his teeth take your nipple in between them.

“Jaehyun…” It’s all he wanted to hear. His tongue is warm against your tit, kissing it like his life depends on it. Perhaps it does, neither of you are sure but prefer to act like so. You on the other hand work on unbuttoning his shirt, the cool linen doing no justice to the warmth of his skin that you crave. Little by little you both feel closer to each other.

He gently lays you down, between the warmth of your bodies and the sunrays witnessing your farewell ritual, the cold had nothing against you. You watch him, admiring every crevice of his body while pushing off your bottoms, leaving you bare for him to gawk at while unbuttoning his pants.

Your giddy smile teasing him to hurry, giggles reinforcing the sentiment. Taking his shaft in between his warm hands, Jaehyun begins to pump slowly. You attempt to replace his hands with your own which he denies. Your touch will send him overboard without even beginning.

Instead he crawls on the bed and over you, kissing you like he always does. With sweet adoration and love, one you take thankfully. You make sure to cradle his face, his upper body in contact with yours as his fingers thread closer in between your legs. The digits waltz around your inner thighs, reminiscing on the path you and him often took to the plaza and market for your daily shopping trips.

He smiles into the kiss, the memories of all he’s experienced with you consuming him. The position alone brings him to that day at the hot spring where you two began this but never got to go further. The wait was over and he had you here. Caged between his arms, flesh against flesh, warmth radiating and your pretty sounds that he couldn’t get enough of.

Slowly his fingers intrude the cavern between your legs, a gasp leaving your lips that helped him deepen the kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, finding yours immediately to participate in a waltz where the two could share the words that neither of you were strong enough to share. His fingers curl and pump languidly within you. The action is so foreign and long forgotten that you feel like putty beneath him.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, warm breath danced across his skin. Lips perfectly wrapping around the flesh of his red earlobe. He’s so sweet and easy to digest, you wish to swallow him so he never leaves you but you know that can’t be so you will make do with what these few minutes can bring to you.

It’s not far off that he takes his fingers out of you, sticking his tongue out to savor you. Just as sweet as you find him. He moans in delight, rubbing off the dripping essence on his throbbing cock that had earlier been rubbing up against your leg. Jaehyun looks directly at you while pumping himself once again. You no longer look playful but rather hungry and desperate. You needed him like one would need air. Like an addict needs their fix and you fear yours will be taken away from you once you’re both done. The ticking clocks are making it boldly aware.

His eyebrows turn up, eyes softening as if asking if you’re ready. You nod as a response, replacing his hand and continuing his strokes, dragging him downwards slowly in the process. He knew if you touched him he would be thrown overboard, he’s near it but he’ll try to last just for you. And for the sake to excuse being together for longer.

Jaehyun fixed his position above you, nudging your legs minimally to fit between them. He went in slowly, bit by bit. Avoiding any discomfort that he could bring you. You pay him with pleasured moans and kisses to shut yourself up, he graciously takes them.

“I–” he wants to say it, he wants to tell you how much he loves you. This feels like the perfect time. You shot him down again with that sweet smile of yours, shimming your hips to which he responds by beginning his thrusts. They’re gentle and steady, enough to make you feel something that you’re only able to describe through silent mewls. He holds you tightly, pulling one of your legs above his hip. Jaehyun tries everything to feel you closer, he wants to go deeper and deeper to no avail, his thrusts can only go so far and it makes him yearn for the possibility that he could have more of you but so little time and resources to figure it out.

Jaehyun can’t believe this is it. He’s thankful this is the memory of you he’ll take with him, he’ll cherish it with every fiber in him, treasuring it like one would the eucharist. All he could think about was how wonderful you felt and how perfect your body molds to his. If this isn’t a sign that you’re meant for each other then he doesn’t know what is.

He worships you in these moments and will continue to do so when he’s gone. He now understands the feeling devotees feel when finding their God and as sacrilegious as it is, Jaehyun’s mind won’t change. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you…

And most of all you feel his love within you. It manifests itself through tears streaming down your cheek, moans muddled with sobs that he can’t decipher to stop and comfort you or continue his thrusts. You answer for him, begging him to keep going, that you’re so close but he knows there’s more to those words besides lust.

He prods, kissing you, being the one to beg this time to let him know what was wrong but you smile and kiss him along. Leaving a trail of kisses along his jugular and shoulders, hands grasping to his flesh for dear life.

“My sweet girl.. Please tell me what’s wrong? Y/n, I lo–” “I love you, I love you, I love you! I love you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun’s thrusts speed with every repeated word, elated to hear you say what he has wanted to all this time. To hear you spew the words he finally had the courage to let out. For you to hear and engrave in your heart and brain the way he has done so with your own.

He smiles, kissing you with a final thrust. Pulling out to place the proof of his love on your cramping stomach, the pain leaving when you, yourself release. Without a care for the mess, he lays on you, craving your warmth and touch.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know or understand.” The whisper pollutes the room, kissing you to cement the sentiment. You sigh, kissing the crown of his head, cradling his body against yours. If it was up to you, you would not mind dying like this. With the city’s racket as background noise, your heart palpitating against his ear, and his breathing the anecdote to tranquilize you.

Time wasn’t forgiving, his departure time was coming sooner than ever. Reluctantly, both pull away for a quick shower. It felt surreal how slow time felt when enthralled within the love you both had for each other but when reality hit, it rushed you all through the motion. Picking up your grandparents from the park, driving in silence to the airport while dealing with some traffic and the static of the radio. All of this just to arrive at the airport with minutes to spare and for the universe to not understand the pain you all felt.

It’s surreal how cruel and love can be.

“I guess this is it, huh?” Jaehyun is the first to break the silence, holding back his sobs, the redness of his nose and ears give him away. Your grandfather laughs, nodding as he takes him into a hug in which both men break down in a fit of cries. Your grandmother gives you a look, she wants to say something snarky but her tough exterior proves futile when even she feels a weep stuck in her throat.

“You’ll contact us, right?” Your grandfather wipes his nose, sniffling while smiling warmly at the younger. Jaehyun nods, taking out his pocket book, scribbling his address for you all to send him letters. He doesn’t need yours, he has it saved by memory.

Your grandmother is second in hugging him, slipping in a bill for him to buy something back home. Both know it’s useless where he’ll go but he’ll cherish it as a memory from her just like the box of cigarettes your grandfather had gotten him. He doesn’t smoke but a token of love is a token of love.

The elder woman pats his cheek, smiling at him tenderly. She hopes this isn’t the last time she’ll see him but she more so than anything hopes he doesn’t disappoint you after this departure.

“Take care.”

It leaves you at last. No more to say, no more actions to show. You just hope he comes back to you as promised.

“I’ll miss you.” Your fingers fiddle with the paper in hand, his pretty handwriting hypnotizing you to believe this moment isn’t real.

“I love you.” That’s enough to call your attention. His palm cradles your face and he steals a quick tender kiss. Embarrassment of having done so in front of your grandparents floods you, you only hope they understand which they do.

“I love you too…”

You had all drowned the calling from the greeter at the door earlier on but things had to be done and reluctantly you both let go. Watching him enter that path had taken a piece of you and when he was out of view, your entire body felt like it would crumble.

You tried your darndest to not cry. To not show your grandparents how much his departure was hurting you. Futile is what they would call it, your sobs were becoming louder as your grandfather drove back home, hoping to get there before night caught up to you all.

Nothing good ever comes out of crying. You’ve known this for a while, for you and your grandmother crying only continues to further make you miserable. Not like the relief it brings your grandfather and Jaehyun, that’s something you think you’re both cursed on.

It wasn’t too far on the road that you kept missing him. Regretting not carrying the film strip with pictures of you both to look at him at every moment now. Your only token of his existence came from the piece of paper between your fingers. Flapping around with the harsh air coming in from your grandfather’s rapid driving.

You believe it smells like him, Jaehyun’s soft musk that you love with all your being. It’s even warm from his grasp, and his pretty handwriting taunts you, letting you know it was permanent on it unlike with you. The paper will remember Jaehyun’s actions against it, it has proof, not like you who will rot at the fact that his actions can be erased easily. What’s worse is that the paper continues to torture you, freeing itself from your fingers and flying out of the car at a rate that even if your grandfather stops you won’t catch up to it nor find it.

“No!”

Your words are useless and frightening to be heard from the elders who question what happened. You tell them between sobs, losing all composure. Hunching over yourself to cry against your knees. This was it, you knew it was too good to be true. Your only hope relies on the letter Jaehyun will send you.

Letters that will never arrive.

Questions. There’s plenty of those that have plagued Jaehyun’s mind since he left. He remembers leaving on great terms but as the months progressed his letters were left unanswered. If he had taken in the home phone number or Gabby’s he’d call for them years ago. Instead he found himself at the front door of the place he once called home with a panic rushing through his blood stream but hopeful nostalgia in his heart.

There was a doorbell outside of the patio door, it had been painted orange. Very fluorescent, it reminded him of Gabby’s store. He had passed by it on his way here, buying a few beers like the day he learnt he had to go back. She didn’t remember him and he made no effort to remind her. Some things are better left in the past.

He didn’t hear many animals inside and it worried him, scared of how much change had been done. It took a couple of minutes for the door to be answered. Received by the presence of a kid he didn’t know but seemed to be around three years old.

“Who?” He looks at Jaehyun quizzically, tilting his head like Ollie used to do. “Um… is Mr. and Mrs–” “Don’t open doors, how many times do I have to tell you that!”

Well there’s a voice he recognized. Jaehyun stood up straight, looking up from the kid to the owner of the voice. When both took in the image of the other, Ollie was the first to take Jaehyun into an embrace. So much giddiness and joy in his squeal that he felt like that nineteen year old again. Even his grasp is childish and brute, shaking Jaehyun around. Jaehyun laughs, squeezing Ollie in return.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back! When did you get here?” The patio looked the same. Fewer sheep and goats in the pen, Camila was gone and replaced with a pig. The dogs were strangers to him and the cats seemed to have forgotten him just like the chickens.

Ollie led him to the kitchen, at least that remained the same and he felt comforted by that fact. The two took a seat not far from each other, firewood crackling in the chimney to bring them warmth. Jaehyun handed him a beer bottle, cheering for his return and Ollie’s growth.

“Why didn’t you think I’d return? I promised you all I would.” Jaehyun smiles, wiping away the alcohol residue from his lips. Ollie shrugs, doing the same. “You never kept in contact so after a few months of not getting your letters we lost hope. I was really mad at you for the longest time… I thought you had just abandoned us… Y/n.”

Jaehyun is aware of the spite in his tone but he can’t help but feel vindicated for something that isn’t true. His eyebrows furrow, leaning over the table for Ollie to feel his confusion. The younger one tilts his head like the boy from earlier.

“Ollie, I kept sending letters nearly every week for the past five years. I thought you all were the ones to leave me in the cold. What do you mean I didn’t keep in contact?” The roles seemed to have reversed. Ollie mimicked Jaehyun’s stance, elbows on the table while downing the remains of his drink.

“We never got a single letter. Pa was so disappointed he cried often about it. Ma didn’t but it was obvious in the way she took care of her plants. Your departure was enough but you really hurt them after that, they saw you as a son, you know.” Ollie shakes his head, swatting a fly away to avoid looking at Jaehyun.

“And Y/n… you really ruined her, Jaehyun. She would spend days in your room hoping to find an address or a phone number. At least to reproach your actions but instead she would cry herself to sleep in there. Her parents had to take her back home after a year, so she found a job and Ma and Pa were taken in by their daughter. She was doing better by then but still had to stay in the city just in case. They left me to take care of the house but it’s not the same.”

Ollie’s voice is no longer harsh, it’s hurt. Jaehyun can’t help but blame himself with how things unfolded but he was sure he wrote those letters. He kept copies of them to recall everything he once said to you and them and if he had known you never received them, he would’ve bought them.

“I-I…” He sighs, “I promise I sent the letters! I made sure to drop them off at the publishing house’s mailing room. I can’t believe this…” His hand comes to his forehead but Ollie shrugs, picking at some peanuts he had laying around. “Beats me then. Why didn’t you visit in that case? We waited long enough.”

Reality is that there will always be evil lurking around and seeing how this place brought you joy and peace, the publishing house did everything in their power to yank it away from him. Jaehyun isn’t a bubbling author full of life and hope. No, Jaehyun is a bleak cynical writer who dwells on the hatred he has for the house and manifests it through broody characters that find no meaning in life. If they had to bring that back, they would. He can have his one train wreck of a joyful book but newcomers have to go back to what they were.

Jaehyun’s head hangs low, all excuses feeling useless. “Manger and publisher didn’t let me. We spent two years editing the final draft and by the following, publishing was in the works but the investors tried everything to change it that we had to fight for another year or so. I wasn’t even allowed to visit my parents, they had to come to me. Isn’t that insane?”

Ollie nods, sympathy and pity muddling on his face. Cruelty at its finest.

“We only traveled for promotions at the end of last year once it was published and some months after this one but I ‘escaped’ if you will and here I am.” His smile twists to the side, dawning upon him that misery will accompany him everywhere he goes.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? It’s not your fault.” Jaehyun hands him another bottle. Ollie nods, “I know, but things could’ve been different if you didn’t work in hell.”

The two laugh, clinking their bottles again. All was lost but one thing and that was the hope of Ollie helping him connect with you and explain it all. He didn’t want you to have such a bad image of him when all he’s ever done is show you how much he loves you.

“What have you done with your life then?” “I got married and had a kid. The brat from out there.”

The kid had been playing with the hens outside the sprint door. Cats surrounded him and reminded Jaehyun of Ollie when he used to play with the animals while pretending to be doing labor work.

“Looks just like you.” The younger hums. “He’s just like me too.” The two laugh heartily, reminiscing on your grandfather’s laugh.

He hesitates for a moment but ultimately asks. “How’s Y/n doing?” There’s longing in his voice but the look in Ollie’s eyes tells him something isn’t right. The fact that he’s holding back a cough, a grave clue. The younger one wants to stall but knows that eventually he’ll find out if he keeps looking.

“Y/n is soon to get engaged…” Like a bucket of cold water, Jaehyun feels his arteries clog and his body run cold, turning stone hard. “She’s been seeing a guy from work for the past two years, they relocated him to somewhere in Maranello, and now they’re living there. He sent a letter asking me to be there for when he proposes… I got the letter yesterday actually.”

Ollie handed him the letter still inside the envelope. “He’s a nice guy but lacks some sense. He treats her well and provides for her but I’m not sure if it’ll thrive.”

The now father stands up with a bucket of corn kernels, calling his child to feed the chickens while they’re all huddled together. He gives Jaehyun one last look with a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

“You’re welcome to stay, in your old room or here.” Jaehyun thanks him. “Landline has long overseas calls now, do with that as you will.” A toothy reassuring grin, Ollie walks out of the home leaving Jaehyun to his vices.

He gives the boys one last look, gaze dropping to the letter and reading over it around four times. It lacks emotion, it’s formal and only demonstrates excitement when describing your work on the garden. The only thing that reminds you of this place now that you’re miles away. Behind it is a letter written by you.

‘Very well, I’ll send you a care package later, Ollie. I wanted to remind you that we have a new phone so I’ve written it down. Don’t forget to write it down in the contact book or you’ll have to find a way to call me this time!

I love you, Gremlin, take care!

Sincerely, Y/n.’

If the angels weren’t clear as day, then he was stupid if he didn’t take the opportunity.

Jumping out of his seat to the bar, Jaehyun stumbles to grab the phone, nothing like Gabby’s old dinky phone. He dials the foreign numbers, fingers tracing over your written name to feel the connection you did with the paper that lasted you a measly few hours.

“Hello?”

That sweet voice transported him five years to the past. Trembling within the walls of his brain and heart, waking up whatever joy he once felt before leaving this wonderful place. Even when your voice seemed aggravated from the silence on his end while garnering courage, he felt alive again.

“Hello?!”

He sighs, clutching to the phone for dear life, facing the outside allowing the sun rays to fall on him like the day he rested over your exposed body to feel your heart and soul envelop him in the love you once –and he hopes you still have– had for him.

“Y/n–” “...”

The hesitance hurts, old feelings swarming in like a desired plague. You won’t ever forget that voice.

“Jaehyun…” “I remember everything.”

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #kvanity #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #nct smut #jaehyun #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct u smut #nct 127 smut #nct 127 #nct #nct fic

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yeokii · 8 months ago

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ALL FOR US — SIM JAEYUN

synopsis . after many attempted tries of salvaging your relationship, jake gave up, letting you slip through his fingers ┆(bookshelf)

재윤 :: boyf! to ex! jake x fmr . . . O.5 K — angst yayㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwarnings 🎱 toxicty, cheating accusations, crying, break ups (fun stuff)

PROD. YEOKII this was inspired by all for us (from the euphoria soundtrack) angst is so much easier to write than fluff

Jake knew it.

He knew it the moment you lost that spark in your eyes whenever you looked at him. He knew it the moment you would awkwardly smile whenever he said something cheesy. But wasn’t it a bit too fast?

His thoughts flooded through his head, overthinking every possible cause and outcome, every single one of them making his eyes water.

He looked down at you, your figure being enveloped by him as you rested so fondly against him, so unaware of what was going through his head. His grip on you tightened as he kissed your forehead, trying not to let his tears escape onto the pillow where his head rested.

Fuck.

He couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t help it when he knew you weren’t in love with him anymore. He just didn’t understand why. And once again, for the nth time, his heart started to crack again.

Because he knew. He knew this wasn’t the first time you fell out of love with him. This familiar pattern of yours became poignant in your relationship. The first time felt like a nightmare. When you were both silently eating a pepperoni pizza, you let the words slip out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could say before you left the kitchen and out of the shared apartment you and Jake had so many memories in.

It took a bit of begging and crying from each side to make you fall in love with him again. It didn’t take long, but Jake felt like dying each second.

The second time it hit felt like a slap to him. You accused him of cheating, while all he did was stay overtime at the company he worked at to earn a higher income to buy you your anniversary gift.

His throat felt dry, and a lump was stuck there. With screaming and fighting, he finally pulled out the necklace you craved for the longest time, which made you cry on the spot. Like the hopeless lover Jake was, he came running to you, pulling you into his embrace, and ushered sweet nothings into your ear while soothing your back.

But this time, it was different.

You were more silent. More disconnected. You stopped saying “I Love You” back. Dates happened once in an eternity. It felt one-sided. You didn't have a reason why. The number of times he salvaged this relationship was all gone in a second.

“I know,” he whispered.

You looked up at him, knowing you felt too nervous to sleep. His teary-eyed gaze met with your guilty one.

He knew you loved him.

But he also knew you weren’t in love with him.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

He hugged you even tighter, breaking eye contact.

“Go to sleep, princess,” he hushed you.

Tears started pouring out of your eyes, and the same happened to him. That night, you both went to sleep with uncontrollable hushed sobs, knowing that you wouldn’t see him again in the morning.

tags . @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss

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aboringredmop · 2 months ago

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some personal notes from the Becky and Joe q&a!!

magnet from webseries is a boy

computer & family are their favorite episodes

Joe likes the memory song most, Becky likes love

there's more merch coming out!! within a month :)

Becky's fav designs are Lesley and the train, joe likes the mirror because it's stupidly easy

tv show karaoke version on Spotify one day maybe

us event maybe, they want first class plane tickets

the Christmas tv episode was scrapped because their contact only allowed for 6 episodes, would've been fun. there was gonna be a character called Winter Susan

concept art book maybe! they also want to make something educational to fit the theme/vibe of the show

tv soundtrack on Spotify also soon sometime maybe

they would love to go to mexico

they talked about some scrapped characters (Duncan Andrews who was gonna be in Death and is shown in the quiz part of Electricity, care bear- type annoying character who died in the trios bed. clipboard)

duck autotune was removed because of The Government

warren was slightly based off of a real guy who worked with Becky and Joe

they really liked the tawog collab because of how much creative freedom they were given

red guy will be eternal

their favorite animation style within the show is, funnily enough, claymation

Becky and Joe are very big jack stauber fans and would love to collab some day

the deleted wine bottle scene from Time was part of a scrapped piece of lyrics (about aging wine) that was replaced by the rotting apple

Becky Joe and diamond Daniel will officiate your dhmis themed wedding

they're not 100% sure there will be more dhmis episodes, because of the time and money it takes. they feel like it's a bit weird to have a second kickstarter

Blu ray for the tv show maybe? international release soon

any teasers for future (dhmis) stuff will be released on their youtube channel

they're not releasing the pilot, pack it up guys

(legally not allowed, to expensive to buy back I believe? the sped up part at Rotterdam might've not been allowed either. rights are owned by turner)

they have an emailadres where you can send fanart! [email protected]

#dhmis #dont hug me im scared

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kaynothanks · 9 months ago

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ROMEO DIED

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader

Summary: You wouldn’t call Billy Hargrove a friend—but misery sure does love company

Warnings: NO, Billy doesn't die, it's just a title! (18+ mdni), swearing (like a lot), smut, thigh riding, billy being a lil bat shit (personality trait?) crying, angst, smoking, sad shit, domestic violence!, it's dark I ain't gonna lie

Word-Count: 25.9k (I don't know how this keeps happening)

To the vast majority, the very essence of childhood was encapsulated in a singular, formative memory—a bright, indelible mark upon the canvas of their existence. These recollections, oft recounted with a gleam in the eye and warmth in the voice, were predominantly woven from the fabric of joyous days. Days spent in the cherished embrace of dearly loved ones, under the golden sun of endless summers or amidst the cozy dimness of a family room lit only by the flickering images of a movie night. Tales of vacations painted in the vivid hues of adventure, of afternoons spent marveling at the wonders housed within the silent watchfulness of zoo enclosures—these were the stories shared, the common thread binding the tapestry of shared human experience.

Yet, amidst this chorus of reminiscences, not once did a voice falter, not once did the flow of memories stutter into silence—as if each story, each recollection, was a pearl, smoothly rolling off the tongue without a moment's hesitation.

You, however, found yourself adrift in this sea of shared nostalgia. When the spotlight of expectation turned to you, when it was your turn to pluck a gem from the treasury of your past, you found the vault seemingly empty. A heavy silence would envelop you, a thick, tangible thing, punctuated only by the expectant gazes of those around you. In those moments, a flurry of panic would dance behind your eyes, a frantic search through the archives of your memory for something—anything—that could pass as a semblance of the joyous tales so freely offered by others.

And so, you took refuge behind the facade of little white lies, crafting tales of your own. Tales that were never lived but painted with enough detail to pass as truth. You knew, instinctively, that these fabrications were necessary—not for your sake, but for theirs. To preserve the sanctity of their bubble-wrapped worlds, where the possibility of a childhood untainted by the same joys was unthinkable, a harsh discord in the symphony of their understanding.

Thus, you crafted a mask from the clay of necessity, molding an awkward smile upon your lips as you spun a tale from the threads of imagination—a story designed to dance gracefully upon the ears of your audience, a melody in the key of fiction they were all too eager to hear. Beneath this veneer of compliance, however, you waged a silent battle, pressing down the memory that surged forth with the clarity and insistence of an unwanted ghost. It was as if you were condemned to an eternal viewing of a particularly distasteful episode of a show, one that had been replayed in the theater of your mind more times than you cared to count.

In those moments, as the lie unfolded from your tongue like the petals of some strange flower, you were mercifully detached from the raw emotions that had once torn through the small, trembling body of your four-year-old self. You were no longer the child cocooned in the dubious sanctuary of a cabinet, its door cracked just enough to admit a sliver of the world outside—a gap so minimal it might have escaped notice altogether, were it not for the significance of the vantage point it offered.

From this slender aperture, you bore witness to a scene that would forever imprint itself upon the canvas of your memory: the harsh, unforgiving grip of your father's hand as it ensnared your mother's head, the violent arc as he brought it crashing down onto the unforgiving surface of the kitchen table. His voice, a thunderous roar that filled the room and set your very soul to trembling, was a soundtrack to the horror unfolding before your eyes, a cacophony that seemed to fuel your incessant shaking.

The final image that burned itself into your retinas, a haunting tableau, was of your mother's slow, agonizing crawl towards you. A rivulet of red, a stark contrast against the pallor of her skin, traced a path down her forehead, a silent testament to the brutality she had endured. And then, with an act of maternal instinct so profound it bordered on the prescient, she reached out to close the cabinet door, shrouding you in darkness. Somehow, she had known—known that even in this desperate moment, her first instinct was to protect you, to shield you from the ugliness of a reality no child should ever have to witness.

In the immediate aftermath, darkness enveloped you, a shroud of impenetrable black that seemed to swallow every shard of light, leaving you suspended in a void where time itself hesitated. It was a silence so profound, a darkness so complete, that for a fleeting series of seconds, you found space to draw breath—a brief respite in the eye of an ongoing storm.

Then, piercing the stillness, came a watery plea—a voice so drenched in despair it seemed to bleed through the air. This was swiftly followed by the sharp, unmistakable sound of a step, a harbinger of chaos yet to unfold. What ensued was a cacophony of crashes and screeches, each imbued with such terror that they seemed to vibrate within the very marrow of your bones. Abruptly, it ceased. The ominous drum of your father's steps receded, and the lament of your mother's cries fell silent.

Within the confines of that cabinet, your sanctuary of shadows, you remained hidden. There, amidst the dust and the dark, you had fostered a belief, a child's naive conviction, that no malevolence could ever breach your fortress of solitude.

Time, however, cared little for such beliefs. You had outgrown the cabinet, outgrown the illusion of invulnerability it had once provided. The specters of those bad things, those harbingers of hurt and harrow, had since learned to find you, to ensnare your mind with their inevitable grasp, to sink their cruel claws deep into your psyche, marking you with scars unseen but deeply felt.

This realization pressed upon you with a weight all its own as you stared into the fractured visage reflected in the broken wardrobe mirror. The spiderweb of cracks across the glass seemed to mock, to distort not just your reflection but the very essence of who you had become. With a heavy heart, you diverted your gaze, a tacit acknowledgment that the sight of your own battered being was a reality you were not ready to confront—not now, perhaps not ever. There was no need to etch this image any deeper into your memory, no need to prolong the inevitable reckoning with your reflection, with the visible manifestations of those all-too-invisible wounds.

In that moment of avoidance, of turning away from the broken mirror, you were confronted with a truth as shattering as the glass before you: the realization that some scars run too deep, their roots entwined with the very fibers of your being, a constant reminder of battles fought and yet to be faced.

With a precision born of necessity, you moved—a delicate ballet of careful contortions designed to avoid the sharp bite of pain that lurked, waiting to pounce with each ill-considered twitch. Bending with the grace of a willow swaying in a gentle breeze, you reached beneath the shadowed underbelly of your bed, fingers searching for the familiar, lightweight case of your first aid kit. The ease with which it came into your hands was a small comfort, quickly extinguished by the sinking realization that greeted you upon its opening.

Inside, the remnants of preparedness mocked you: an empty bottle of saline solution stared back, its purpose exhausted, alongside a few band-aids, torn and useless, victims of your past impatience. The other contents, like the tweezers, lay in wait for a need that did not currently exist. You allowed yourself a moment—a brief, piercing inventory of this inadequate arsenal—before pushing the disappointment aside and hoisting yourself back to a stand.

Clad in the remnants of a past encounter, a hooded jacket left behind by a fleeting connection, you approached the window. It was a silent affair, the window yielding to your touch with the stealth of a whisper, betraying none of the turmoil that brewed within.

The act of escape was nothing short of a physical ordeal. Your limbs, heavy with ache, maneuvered through the small aperture of the trailer window—a testament to both desperation and determination. Once outside, crouched low to avoid unwanted attention, the cool embrace of the night air greeted you. It was a balm, this newfound freedom, a stark contrast to the stifling confines of your room, littered with the debris of broken dreams and shattered expectations. The open air offered a cleanse, a baptism of sorts, from the relentless cycle of cleanup and repair that had become your existence.

Gone were the days of painstakingly removing glass from picture frames before their inevitable destruction; a ritual born from the foresight of their transient nature. The weariness for such tasks clung to you, a cloak woven from threads of frustration and resignation. Yet, here, under the cover of night, with the world stretched wide and open before you, the weight of that cloak seemed, if only for a moment, a little lighter.

As you strode past the silent form of your car, a sigh of irritation escaped your lips, its sound a soft testament to the internal debate you'd just settled. The decision not to awaken the engine into roaring life was not only a tactic to maintain stealth but a silent concession to the fact that walking might just offer the solace and clarity your tangled thoughts so desperately needed. Moreover, it presented an opportunity to prolong your absence from the confines of what was supposed to be home—a place you were increasingly reluctant to return to, especially tonight. He had played his part, an unwelcome performance that assured you of a temporary reprieve from his intrusions, securing you a night free from disturbances, free from his discovery of the emptiness that now characterized your bedroom.

With a sense of resolve, you drew the black hood over your head, plunging your hands into the depths of your pockets as if to anchor yourself to this decision. You embarked on your nocturnal odyssey, leaving the trailer park's dimly lit confines behind. Your path unfolded on the deserted street, feet finding rhythm and balance on the white lines that dissected the asphalt—a tightrope walker in the quiet of the night. A melody, the residue of days spent with the same song on repeat in your car, hummed softly from your lips, a solitary soundtrack to your solitary march.

The gas station, a beacon of fluorescent light in the darkness, promised to be your oasis—a mere thirty-minute pilgrimage from the trailer park. It was a sanctuary that never closed its doors, a constant in the fluctuating chaos of your life. Behind the counter, the night shift was personified by a young man, his attention more on the beef-flavored Space Raiders he chewed with open abandon than on any potential customer.

With your head bowed, a gesture born of habit more than necessity, you navigated the familiar aisles towards the back. This little corner of the gas station, with its modest array of medical supplies, had become an unlikely ally in times of need. The sound of the entrance bell, a faint chime announcing the arrival or departure of a soul, barely registered as you focused on gathering the items that would serve as tonight's band-aids for both physical and metaphorical wounds.

Items gathered in the crook of your arm, you made your way to the counter, a silent procession of one. The goods—a testament to the night's necessities—were unceremoniously deposited onto the surface, a prelude to the exchange of currency for what passed as care in the small hours of a world that never quite slept.

As the cashier busied himself with the register, a mechanical dance of fingers on keys, you cleared your throat to pierce the silence that had settled between you. "Can I get a pack of Marlboros, too?" The words hung in the air, simple yet laden with an unspoken tension.

He paused, his movements halting as his gaze lifted to scrutinize you. There was a moment, brief yet charged, where his frown deepened, a silent commentary on the obscured view of your face. Nevertheless, his hand moved with practiced ease, reaching behind without hesitation and grasping the familiar green box.

Your response was almost instinctive, an eye roll born of the assumptions wrapped around that particular choice. "Red." The word was clipped, tinged with a mix of amusement and annoyance at the stereotype you were unwillingly cast into. As you handed over the money, pulled from the snug refuge of your jeans' back pocket, his suspicion seemed to spike, eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher an unsolved puzzle.

Money exchanged and items clumsily gathered, you were ready to retreat into the night from whence you came. Yet, a thought anchored you in place, a sudden reminder of a need unaddressed. "Could I have the key for the bathroom?" The question, simple in its asking, seemed to hang precariously in the space between you.

"It’s out," came his reply, short, almost reflexive, a barrier thrown up with the ease of someone who had uttered those words too many times.

Yet, you stood your ground, nodding towards the key that dangled tauntingly over his shoulder, within reach yet seemingly miles away. "It’s right behind you." Your words, firm, carried a weight of certainty, a challenge laid bare.

His response was a study in stillness, a monument to inertia, as if the very act of acknowledging the key's existence was beneath him.

"I need it." The finality in your voice, a blend of resolve and a barely contained plea, echoed in the cramped space of the gas station, a testament to the myriad small battles fought in the dead of night, under the fluorescent glow of a whole other world.

"Toilet's broken," he declared, an excuse worn thin by time and repetition.

Indeed, that very toilet had clung to its broken state for a spell nearing two years—a testament to neglect. "I don’t need to use the toilet. I just need to use the room—” you attempted to clarify, seeking a foothold in a rapidly closing door of opportunity.

"Boss said to not let anyone in," came his rebuttal, a line likely recited from a script of convenience rather than concern.

"Dude—" The word hung in the air, a precursor to the battle you felt brewing within. You inhaled deeply, a silent prayer for patience, your teeth clenching in an invisible grip. "Never mind. Have a terrific night," the words coated in a veneer of nicety that you mustered with all your might, your smile, though sarcastic, was an attempt to bridge the chasm of your frustration, hoping its curve was visible beneath the shadow of your hood. "Dickhead," the insult slipped from your lips in a whisper, a secret shared only with the night as you stepped through the door into the embrace of the outside world.

Tired and tinged with annoyance, your gaze swept the vicinity, seeking a haven for the simplest of human needs—to get cleaned up. Then, like a beacon in the night, your eyes settled on a car stationed at the farthest gas pump. It stood solitary, a silent sentinel in the fluorescent glow. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder, a spy's caution, to ensure the car's owner wasn't lurking nearby. The coast appeared clear, save for the presence of the obstinate cashier, now dubbed the idiot in your evening's narrative.

By the dim glow of the gas station's overhead lights, you found a temporary sanctuary beside the car, a silent accomplice to your solitary ritual. With deliberate motions, you placed your newly acquired treasures upon the cold, unforgiving ground and crouched, your body tensing as you prepared to confront the reflection you had been avoiding. The side-view mirror, initially angled to capture the expanse of the road behind, was now coaxed into a new purpose. With a hesitant push, you angled it to reveal your own visage, a canvas marred by the recent past.

The act of lowering your hood felt akin to peeling away a layer of armor, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. What greeted you in the reflective glass was a mosaic of bluing bruises and angry red slashes—a testament to a tale you wished remained untold. A grimace twisted your features at the sight, your heart sinking. The reflection bore evidence of a fierce struggle, a physical manifestation of pain that made the concept of beauty a distant, unattainable dream.

With a sigh, you sought solace in the ritualistic lighting of a cigarette, a small act of defiance against the night's events. The pack crinkled as you extracted one, placing it between your lips with a sense of purpose. Yet, as you patted down your pockets in search of a flame, a sinking realization dawned upon you—your lighter was missing, presumably lost amidst the chaos that now defined your living space. Disappointment seeped into your bones, mixing with the lingering adrenaline and fatigue that clung to your skin.

Undeterred, you turned your attention back to the task at hand. The cigarette, forgotten for the moment, dangled unlit as you began to tend to your wounds with the care of a seasoned medic. Each touch to your skin with a damp tissue was a whisper of comfort, a gentle caress amidst the harsh reality of your existence. The application of Neosporin was a balm not just for the physical scars, but a fleeting attempt to soothe the deeper, unseen injuries that lay beneath

As you were about to seal the wounds with plasters, a testament to your resilience and a badge of your suffering, the tranquility of the moment was shattered. A voice, unexpected and jarring, cut through the silence, startling you from your reverie. The sudden intrusion felt like an invasion, a breach of the fragile peace you had managed to carve out for yourself in the shadows of the night.

"Antiseptic works better."

Through the mirror, you caught a glimpse of the silhouette that dared intrude upon your moment of vulnerability. The cigarette perched precariously between your lips bobbed as you spoke, your voice tinged with the weariness of one too acquainted with pain. "You’re wrong," you countered through the cigarette hanging from your lips after grabbing a second plaster and ripping its package. "In fact," you continued, pressing the adhesive over another wound, "there’s a chance it may damage the skin." Your expertise on the subject was born from necessity, not choice—a testament to the scars you bore, both seen and unseen. As you finished tending to your injuries, gathering your things with a finality that marked the end of the unwanted interaction, you turned to face the source of the unsolicited commentary.

The dim light revealed his identity—the new guy, an unwelcome disturbance in your carefully maintained distance from the world. You shot him a look that spoke volumes, laden with the exhaustion of a soul yearning for nothing more than the sanctuary of a warm bed, before you attempted to leave his presence behind. His voice, however, laced with an unmistakable amusement, halted you once more. "Hey," he called out, a grin audible in his tone. "I know you."

The assertion sparked a flicker of irritation within you, a flare in the dimness of your resolve. "You don’t," you corrected sharply and turned halfway, vexed by your exhaustion and the want for a warm bed. "You might have seen me around, but you don’t know me."

"Christ," he swore, wearing a shit-eating grin that made you want to pull out his infuriatingly long eyelashes one by one. "What pissed in your—"

"Bye," you interjected, rolling your eyes as you turned your back on him, the roll of your eye a silent rebuke to his unfinished query.

"You need a lighter for that, sweetheart?"

Your feet anchored themselves on the spot, your shoulders slouching just the littlest bit; you really, really did need one. Aversion in your bones, you slowly turned back to him. Keeping your distance, you placed yourself across from where he was leaning against his car.

The smirk playing on his lips stretched into a full-blown grin, a silent prelude to the audacity that followed. In one fluid, almost theatrical motion, he reached out, plucking the cigarette from your lips and putting it between his with an ease that spoke of practiced finesse. The silver lighter appeared in his hands as if by magic, its flame dancing to life with a flick that carried the flair of showmanship. The lit cigarette found its way back to his lips, and he inhaled deeply, the smoke exhaling in a deliberate stream toward you, enveloping you in a cloud of provocation as he gauged your reaction, almost baiting an outburst.

Yet, instead of the explosion he anticipated, you simply reclaimed the cigarette from his grasp, a silent acceptance of his unsolicited gesture. "Thanks,” you uttered, the words hanging in the air as you resumed walking, leaving the moment behind.

His voice followed, a casual offer laced with an undefined undercurrent. "You want a ride?"

Your steps faltered, a frown creasing your forehead as his words registered. "That is one hell of a random question to ask a stranger. As a stranger,” you retorted, the skepticism in your voice as palpable as the cool night air that enveloped you both.

"You want one or not?" His reply was curt, edged with impatience, a stark contrast to the mysterious offer he had just extended.

"Why would you offer?" Curiosity laced your tone, mixed with a hint of caution. Billy Hargrove’s reputation had preceded him, painting a picture of a Californian rebel whose actions were as unpredictable as the ocean’s waves, and certainly, acts of chivalry seemed as foreign to him as a language unspoken.

"Forget it." His dismissive gesture, a psuh from the car before he swung the door open, spoke volumes of his irritation. Yet, as he made to seal himself within the metal cocoon of his vehicle, your voice pierced the night, a decision made.

"I do want one."

The car door slammed shut, and for a moment, the only sound was the car's engine coming to life, a growl in the quiet. His gaze, sharp and assessing, met yours through the glass. A roll of his eyes served as his acquiescence to your unspoken plea for a ride. The door cracked open, an invitation as gruff as his tone. "Are you getting your ass in the car or do you need a written invite?"

His words, brusque yet oddly inviting, spurred you into action. The interior of the car enveloped you, the scent of leather and the undercurrent of his cologne mingling in the confined space. No sooner had you fastened the seatbelt than the car lurched forward, tires screeching in protest as Billy Hargrove accelerated into the night, propelling both of you toward the unknown that lay in the direction you had originally been heading.

"I live at—" you began, the words barely taking form before they were cut short.

"I know." His interruption was swift, a statement so sure and unfazed.

Confusion momentarily clouded your thoughts, mingling with a spark of irritation. How the fuck could he possibly know? The question danced at the tip of your tongue, but before it could leap into the open air between you, realization dawned. The company he kept at school, the circles he moved in—those were all the answers you needed. Billy Hargrove, with his effortless charisma and an air of danger that clung to him like a second skin, naturally gravitated towards and was embraced by those you had learned to keep at arm's length. Those very individuals, Carol Perkins, Vicki Carmichael, and Tommy Hagan, had painted your world in stark, unflattering colors, branding you 'trailer trash' with their sneers and jeers for a decade.

A bitter laugh threatened to escape, thinking of them, their cruelty a constant shadow over your school days. If only they knew the disdain you harbored, so potent and vivid. You wished, not for the first time, that their arrogance and aspirations could be forcibly fed back to them, a grotesque cycle that would see their malice choking them, expelled from their mouths like a vile confession of their true natures.

You adjusted the window, allowing just a sliver of the night air to slip through, and extended your arm, the cigarette perched between your fingers, embers dancing with each inhale.

"What happened to your face?" Billy's voice, laced with a curiosity that didn't match his usual demeanor, cut through the hum of the road beneath the car's tires.

"Fell from heaven, of course," you retorted, the words tinged with sarcasm as your eyes rolled, a silent protest against his prying. His persistence was like a thorn—unwanted and sharp. "Nosy much?"

"Catfight?" His guess was off mark, yet it pricked your patience.

You exhaled, a mix of frustration and resignation coloring your tone. "Ran into a tree," the lie smooth on your tongue, as you took another drag, the cigarette's glow a brief flare in the darkness.

He scoffed, disbelief etched in the sound. "And the tree beat you up for that?"

Your agreement came out as a hum, a playful note in the solemn night. "Had a mean right hook, too. Damn birch trees," you quipped, allowing a brief smile to dance on your lips at the absurdity of it all, blowing the smoke out into the night, watching as it dissipated into the cool air.

Silence fell between you, a heavy, tangible thing that seemed to swell with each passing second. It was an odd sort of discomfort, more unsettling than the exchange of words had been, wrapping around you like a thick fog. You found yourself almost wishing for his voice again, to break through the quiet that now felt louder than any spoken word. Yet, as the car sped on, devouring the road with eager haste, the lights of the trailer park approached, promising an end to the journey and the silence that had settled between you.

Suddenly, he extended his hand towards you, an unspoken request hanging in the air. You found yourself momentarily puzzled, your gaze fixed on his fingers before realization dawned. After taking a final, lingering drag from the cigarette, you passed the diminishing ember to him. With an effortless flick, he sent it soaring out of the window, watching as it disappeared into the night after taking it down to its last breath.

"Since when are girls like you smokers of the good stuff?" His voice was casual, yet loaded with an unspoken judgment that hung heavily between you.

The implication behind his words, ‘girls like you’ didn't necessitate an explanation. You understood perfectly—the label wasn't about you personally. It was a placeholder, a stereotype applied broadly to any girl who found herself in his car, a commentary not so much on the individual but on the perceived collective. The notion that somehow, despite the vast differences among individuals, there was a uniformity assumed among all those deemed ‘other’ by those who never bothered to look beyond the surface. It was a tired, worn-out perspective, suggesting that understanding, respect, and equality were territories too foreign for those entrenched in their own narratives.

"I'm not a smoker," you retorted, your voice steady, pushing back against the label he tried to affix to you.

He turned to you, an eyebrow arching in skepticism. "Sweetheart, I think the tree might have hit you in the head." His words, meant to tease, danced in the space between you,

"Special occasions only," you finally spoke, breaking the silence that had settled between you, thick with unvoiced judgments and assumptions. Your voice carried a defiant edge, a sharp contrast to the vulnerability you felt. "Also, fuck you."

Billy's response was a chuckle, the sound low and somewhat amused, as if your resilience added an unexpected flavor to the night's events. "What's the occasion?" he inquired, his tone lighter, yet carrying an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.

You found yourself hesitating, caught on the precipice of disclosure and reticence. The likelihood of crossing paths with him again felt as remote as the stars dotting the night sky above, their light distant and indifferent. You weighed the ephemeral nature of this encounter against the catharsis of sharing, even if just a sliver, of your reality. "Having choices," you said at last, the words feeling like both a confession and a declaration.

"What choices?" His question followed, simple yet laden with the weight of stories untold.

You offered no reply, merely a shrug, a gesture cloaked in layers of meaning. Your silence was your fortress, safeguarding the complexities of a life marked by pain and defiance. Within you, a habit had taken root, a ritual born from the ashes of violence at the hands of your father. Smoking had become your rebellion, your assertion of control in a life that often felt governed by the whims of a man whose presence was as oppressive as it was destructive. To smoke was to choose the manner of your harm, to claim agency over your own demise, however slow and insidious it might be. It was a twisted form of empowerment, preferring the slow burn of tobacco to the acute brutality of paternal hands. Crushing the extinguished remnants of your defiance under your boots served as a tangible metaphor, a declaration that the man who should have been your protector held no more power over you than the spent cigarettes you ground into oblivion.

Entering Billy's car that night, accepting the ride from someone enveloped in rumors and mystery, was a choice emblematic of your current state of being. Bruised, both physically and spiritually, by the very person who should have been your haven, you found yourself gravitating towards choices that flirted with danger. In the shadow of your father's tyranny, even the potential threat of an unknown like Billy felt like a liberation, a dare to the universe that tonight, of all nights, you were the master of your fate, no matter how recklessly that fate was courted.

Merely blocks away from the shadowed outlines of the trailer park, you felt the tension knot tighter in your gut, prompting you to instruct Billy with an urgency that surprised even yourself. "Stop the car here." It was a calculated measure, a bid to remain unseen should your father's usual stupor be interrupted by a rare moment of vigilance. You couldn't risk him spotting you from the confines of an existence you both shared yet endured on vastly different terms.

"Why?" Billy's inquiry sliced through the hum of the engine, a roaring beast that seemed all too eager to encroach upon the sanctuary you so desperately sought to protect.

"'Cause I said so!" The words burst from you, a mix of fear and insistence, as panic clawed at your chest with icy fingers when he veered dangerously close to the trailer park's entrance. "Stop the damn car!" The command was punctuated by the violent squeal of tires as they ground against the asphalt, the sudden deceleration forcing the seat belt to bite cruelly into your already tender flesh. "Thanks for the ride," you managed to huff out, a terse farewell as you swung the door open and exited with a haste born of desperation, the door slamming shut with a resounding finality. "Asshole," you muttered under your breath, a feeble attempt to regain some semblance of control over the rapidly fraying edges of your composure.

You had barely taken a few steps when a compulsion, inexplicable and unnerving, urged you to cast a glance over your shoulder. There he was, Billy, his gaze already locked onto your retreating form. Even through the cloak of night, his silhouette was unmistakable, and the distance did little to obscure the wink he sent your way—a gesture that felt both mocking and oddly comforting in its audacity.

With a swift turn of your head, you dismissed the fleeting connection, quickening your pace as if to outstrip the myriad emotions that encounter had stirred within you. The night air, cool and indifferent, seemed to whisper secrets as you disappeared into the labyrinth of shadows that promised both sanctuary and imprisonment.

In the sanctuary of shadow and silence, you made your way to the trailer that bore the dubious honor of being called home. The silver metal shell, tarnished by time and wear, loomed before you, a testament to a life far removed from the dreams you once harbored. With each cautious step, you moved with the stealth of a creature well-versed in the art of invisibility, ensuring that your presence remained undetected by Billy's lingering gaze.

Approaching the window to your room, the cool night air kissed your cheeks, a stark contrast to the warmth that awaited inside. Your hands, acting on the instinct honed by countless nights of return, deftly managed the small but significant task before you. The purchases, a meager collection of necessities and small comforts, found their way through the open window with a soft thud against the carpeted interior, a silent testament to your return.

With the grace of a practiced climber, you hoisted yourself up and through the window, your body moving with an economy of motion born from necessity. The interior of the trailer welcomed you back into its cramped but familiar embrace, the air tinged with the scent of a life lived on the margins.

That night, as the world outside continued its indifferent spin, you took a moment to secure the only sanctuary you knew. The lock on your door clicked into place with a finality that spoke of a desire for solitude, or perhaps, a prayer for safety. In the dim light of your room, surrounded by the humble trappings of your existence, you prepared to surrender to sleep.

The act of locking your door was more than a mere precaution; it was a ritual, a whispered plea to the universe for just one night of peace. As the shadows deepened and the trailer park settled into the quiet hum of the night, you lay down, your thoughts a tangled web of hopes, fears, and the stubborn resilience that had carried you this far. In the stillness that followed, sleep arrived, a reluctant visitor, to claim you in its embrace, offering a temporary reprieve from the trials of a world that waited just beyond the thin walls of your silver metal haven.

…

Dawn's first light crept through the cracks of the blinds, casting a muted glow across the room. You stirred from the uneasy dreams that had plagued your sleep, finding the morning's silence a stark contrast to the tumultuous echoes of last night. With a deep breath, you summoned the strength to face another day, one that began with the painstaking task of camouflage.

Seated before a mirror streaked with age, you embarked on the delicate art of concealing the evidence of yesterday's storm. Each brushstroke was a silent battle, each dab of powder a feeble attempt to erase the marks that pain had etched upon your skin. The bruises, a palette of purples and blues, refused to be hidden completely, protesting under the layers of makeup you applied with a desperation born of necessity.

As you dressed, a sharp twinge of pain caught your breath. The mirror revealed a ghastly bloom of purple spreading like a shadow across your side, just below the ribs—a grim reminder of the violence you wished to forget. A lie formed in your mind, a necessary deception for the physical education teacher, claiming the protection of a condition as natural as it was unrelated to the truth.

The ritual of preparing breakfast unfolded with a practiced ease, though your heart was elsewhere. You moved through the kitchen, your gaze carefully avoiding the man who sat at the table, expecting the service you provided as if it were his due. The sizzling bacon and the scramble of eggs filled the silence between you, a silence as heavy and uncomfortable as the bruises hidden beneath your clothes. His expectations hung over you, a constant reminder of the narrow path you were forced to tread to avoid further displeasure.

School offered no respite from the act you were forced to live. With your hood pulled high, you navigated the halls with a deliberate slowness, dreading the moment you would have to enter the classroom and face the day's challenges. The quiet comfort of anonymity was shattered when Mrs. O'Donnell's voice, sharpened by authority, cut through the air. Your heart sank as her words found you, a beacon spotlighting your defiance.

"I do not condone hats or hoods in my lessons," she declared, her tone leaving no room for dissent. In that moment, the weight of the day pressed down upon you, a reminder of the battles yet to be fought, both in the light of day and in the shadows of your own life.

The atmosphere in the classroom thickened, a palpable tension that clung to your skin as you stood at the precipice of decision. Around you, the collective breath of your peers hung suspended, their curiosity mingled with the anticipation of rebellion they'd come to associate with you. Yet, in that moment of scrutiny, you chose compliance over defiance. With a slow, deliberate motion, you slid your hood back, exposing the canvas of your pain to the voracious eyes around you.

A collective inhale filled the room, a chorus of shock and disbelief that painted you in a light far removed from the anonymity you craved. Even your teacher, usually so composed and authoritative, faltered under the weight of the revelation, her voice lost to the ticking clock that suddenly seemed deafening in the heavy silence.

She recovered, albeit shakily, her command to continue an attempt to restore normalcy to the disrupted order of her classroom. But the damage was done, the facade cracked. You couldn't wait to escape, and the moment the class was dismissed, your hood resumed its place, a shield against the prying eyes and whispered judgments.

The day unfolded exactly as you had dreaded. Each class became a battleground, your hood the flag of your defiance and your bruises the wounds of wars fought in the shadows of your life. The whispers followed you like a relentless shadow, and when lunch arrived, you sought solace in the solitude of the cafeteria's farthest corner. Surrounded by the outcasts and the unnoticed, you found a semblance of peace, even if it was the peace of a pariah among peers dreaming of revolutions they did not understand.

You observed them, the future rebels with their leather bracelets and spiky hair, their existence a stark contrast to the battles you fought daily. They wore their rebellion like a badge of honor, unaware of the true cost of surviving a war against the very fabric of one's life. And as you sat there, hidden in plain sight, you couldn't help but wonder about the diverging paths of those destined for a picture-perfect existence and your own, forged in the crucible of pain and resilience.

Stepping out from the confines of the school building as the day bled into the mellow hues of late afternoon was like shedding an invisible shackle, a temporary respite that made your shoulders relax and your breath come easier. This fleeting sense of liberation accompanied you, a silent companion that whispered promises of tranquility, until the familiar sight of the trailer park loomed ahead, shattering the illusion with the harsh reality waiting within.

As you navigated the maze of silver metal homes, the sight of the lights blazing through the windows of your own trailer felt like a physical blow, a harbinger of the storm that was about to break. Your heart, a frantic drummer in the cage of your ribs, seemed to echo ominously with every step you took toward the creaking door that served as the barrier between you and what awaited inside.

He wasn't supposed to be there, not yet. The very thought was a cold hand squeezing around your heart, draining the color from the world. With trepidation lacing each step, you entered, your gaze flitting nervously from the desolate sofa to the ominously closed door of his bedroom. The strap of your school bag became a lifeline, something tangible to anchor you as you tiptoed toward the sanctuary of your room.

But fate, it seemed, was not on your side. The floor beneath you, a traitor clad in aged wood, groaned loudly under your weight, a sound so jarring in the silence that you couldn't help but wince, your entire being tensing in anticipation of the fallout. Time seemed to stand still, a suspended moment filled with the electric charge of impending doom.

Then, movement shattered the silence. The bedroom door was flung open with such force you half expected it to fly off its hinges, revealing the man who stood in the doorway. His presence filled the space, an imposing figure that you could barely reconcile as the one responsible for your existence. In that moment, as you faced the man who should have been your protector but felt more like a looming threat, you realized the fragility of the peace you so desperately sought in the confines of what you called home.

The utterance of your name, whispered with a darkness that cloaked the room, immediately heightened your senses, alerting you to the imminent storm. Instinctively, your feet shuffled backwards, attempting to put distance between you and the tempest that was your father. His voice cracked through the tension like a whip, "What did we talk about?" The words barely left his lips before your body responded with a quiver, the dread manifesting physically.

"You're just as useless as your bitch mother," he bellowed, his hand cutting through the air with predatory speed to clamp around your throat. Your legs struggled to bear the sudden weight of fear and despair as he dragged you, your resistance feeble against his force, through the claustrophobic hallway into the stark light of the kitchen. There, he released you not in mercy but to crash onto the unforgiving floor, his grip morphing into an iron band around your neck. "Now, I know you ain't the smartest but how can anyone be such a dumb cunt?" His eyes flicked toward the refrigerator with a menacing expectation.

Frozen, more by terror than choice, you remained motionless, inciting his fury further until he yanked you upward by the very lifeline he was squeezing. "Open it!" His command was a shout, propelled by anger, as he thrust you toward the cold metal of the fridge. With every fiber of your being screaming to comply just to make it stop, you mustered the strength to lower your shaking head and fumble with the fridge door.

"What did I tell you?" he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

"To take care of things," you managed to whimper, your voice barely threading through the tightness of his grip.

"That's right," he confirmed with a dark, rumbling voice. But his next words were like daggers, each one punctuating your worthlessness in his eyes. And then, with a brutality that seemed to echo in the sparse kitchen, your head was forcibly introduced to the side of the fridge. The sudden release from his hands felt as much a punishment as the assault, a clear message that you had once again failed to meet his expectations. "Fucking take care of it," he spat, leaving you with the pain and the cold echo of his disdain.

For a fleeting moment after his departure, you remained motionless on the cold kitchen floor, the echo of his retreating footsteps a temporary relief. As you coughed, savoring the rush of oxygen filling your lungs once more, you rose with shaky resolve. Closing the refrigerator with a soft click, you retrieved some cash from the hidden savings can, each movement automatic, driven by necessity rather than thought. Your feet carried you swiftly to your car, a sanctuary of sorts in the midst of chaos.

With trembling hands, you inserted the keys into the ignition, pausing as you caught sight of their unsteady dance. Just as you were about to press the gas pedal, a different sensation caught your attention. Blood, warm and unsettling, trickled down from your nose to your lips. Instinctively, you reached up to wipe it away, only for a solitary tear to escape, tracing a path down your cheek. In a burst of anger, you struck the steering wheel, imagining for a split second it was his face absorbing the impact, receiving the punishment he so richly deserved.

The drive out of the trailer park felt like an escape, albeit a temporary one, as you headed deeper into town. Your destination was the only supermarket in Hawkins that turned a blind eye to selling alcohol to minors. The cashiers, two souls long since resigned to the monotony and despair of their roles, barely registered your presence, their gazes fixed on some distant, unseen point beyond the walls of their confinement.

You found yourself wiping your face again, this time checking the rearview mirror to assess the damage. The sight of your bloodshot eyes was a grim reminder. Physical blows you had learned to endure, but the insults, the verbal lashings that cut deeper than any fist, remained wounds that refused to heal. The most painful barbs were those aimed at your mother, a woman who had possessed nothing in terms of material wealth but had fought valiantly, albeit futilely, to escape the tyranny of your father. She was a woman of courage, standing between you and his wrath, even as cancer waged its own merciless battle within her. Your admiration for her was boundless; on her deathbed, she had worn a smile, radiant and victorious, for in her passing, she had finally escaped the man who had sought to break her spirit.

As you entered the supermarket, you smoothly plucked a basket from the stack beside the entrance, weaving your way through the aisles with a practiced ease. With each step, you carefully selected items, filling the basket with an assortment of goods that you knew would appease your father's palate. The basket grew heavier, a testament to your meticulous effort, until you reached the final checkpoint: the beverage section.

The coolers stood before you, a chilled barrier between thirst and satisfaction. You reached for the door, the cold air brushing against your skin as you grabbed a six-pack of your father's preferred beer. It was then you noticed him, a figure barely three weeks familiar with Hawkins, yet here he was, navigating the town's veins as if born to them. His friends had evidently provided a thorough briefing. Your attempt at a discreet observation failed miserably, as his attention snapped to you, an unspoken acknowledgment between strangers.

Your brows arched in involuntary surprise, not at his presence but at the sight of fresh cuts and bruises marring his face — wounds absent just the night before. A silent question hovered on the tip of your tongue, but before it could take flight, he dismissed the moment with a roll of his eyes and brushed past you, leaving a trail of unspoken stories and a fleeting connection dissipated as quickly as it had formed.

The line at the checkout moved slowly, a trivial inconvenience, yet it granted you a few more moments of anonymity. The store's quaint little bell announced Billy's departure, a sound that seemed to echo the finality of a moment passing. When it was finally your turn, you engaged in the mechanical transaction with the cashier, your mind elsewhere. Stepping out into the waning light, the sight of Billy Hargrove, casually nursing a can of beer against the cool metal of his car, intruded upon your thoughts. His car parked nonchalantly beside yours felt like a deliberate coincidence. The brown paper bag, a temporary vessel for your burdens, found its place in the backseat as you closed the door, acutely aware of his gaze tracing your movements, an invisible tether pulling at the edge of your consciousness.

You cleared your throat, a prelude to breaking the silence as you stood by your car, the keys dancing a nervous ballet in your hand. "Birch tree got you too, huh?" The words slipped out, a tentative bridge spanning the gap between you two.

Billy's scrutiny lingered, a silent appraisal, before his eyes dropped to the testament of violence painted on your skin, eventually locking with yours. "You want a smoke?" His voice broke the tension, an offer hanging in the balance.

Surprised, yet intrigued, you glanced around before nodding, a silent agreement forged in the twilight. You gestured for him to follow, leading him to the supermarket's side where the guardians of refuse, a row of large dumpsters, stood in solemn assembly. Climbing atop one with an ease born of necessity, you found a perch, waiting for him to join you in this makeshift sanctuary away from prying eyes.

Billy, with a nonchalance that seemed to cloak him like a second skin, produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, its silver surface catching the last rays of the sun. With a practiced flick, he ignited a flame, bringing it to the cigarette perched between his lips. The glow of the ember briefly illuminated his face, casting shadows that danced with the smoke. Taking a drag, he then passed the cigarette to you. As you inhaled, the sharp, acrid taste of tobacco filled your lungs, a bitter reminder of choices made, of moments shared in silence and smoke.

As the minutes melted away under the haze of shared smoke and silent camaraderie, the cigarette passed between you became a temporary truce, an unspoken understanding in the twilight of shared solitude. Eventually, Billy broke the silence, his voice rasping slightly from the smoke. "You have blood on your nose."

"Yeah?" Your response was tinged with a nonchalance that belied the undercurrent of tension between you. You accepted the cigarette once more, its ember glowing faintly in the dimming light. "You have some on your lip." Another drag, a momentary escape, then silence enveloped you both once again. The final act of discarding the cigarette to the ground felt almost ceremonial, as you crushed the lingering spark beneath your boot, a definitive end to the fleeting respite. "See you 'round, Hargrove."

Your words hung in the air as you turned to leave, a tentative goodbye to a shared moment of vulnerability. His voice reached out, halting your retreat. "You hungry?"

The question paused you in your tracks, the afternoon sun casting long shadows as you turned to face him. There was something in his gaze, a reflection of weariness and something unspoken, that mirrored your own. For a fleeting second, pity stirred within you, its target unclear, as empathy blurred the lines between self and other.

"I am," you conceded, the admission heavy with an unspoken understanding of the complications it invited. Yet, the reality of your own circumstances pulled you back from the precipice of further entanglement. "But I have to get home, actually." Your smile was a feeble attempt at normalcy, a polite curtain falling on the scene. "Bye, Billy."

His acknowledgment was a silent nod, a mutual recognition of the distance being placed between you once more. As you drove away, the rearview mirror captured the solitary figure of Billy Hargrove, a temporary companion in your shared narrative of survival and solitude, fading into the background of your departing world.

…

An unsettling sense of change lingered in the air, a silent shift that had settled over Hawkins High like a thick fog, imperceptible yet undeniably present. This peculiar feeling began to wrap around you, a subtle yet persistent presence, in the days following your second encounter with Billy Hargrove. As you stepped through the school's doors, braced for the usual barrage of sneers and the biting sting of ‘trailer trash’ hurled in your direction, you found instead a surprising void where hostility once thrived.

This newfound anonymity was strangely soothing, a reprieve wrapped in the unexpected guise of indifference. For once, the hallways that had felt like gauntlets now offered passage free from judgment, allowing you a semblance of peace amidst the storm of daily life. It was an odd sort of liberation, moving unseen and unmarked by the cruel jibes that had once shadowed your steps. For the first time in your tumultuous high school saga, the final bell did not signal a hasty retreat but a deliberate detour to the sanctuary of the art room.

The art class assignment, a canvas awaiting the touch of inspiration, became your excuse to linger in the quiet aftermath of the school day. While your peers carried their artwork home, eager to splash their visions across the canvas in the comfort of their own spaces, such a luxury was a distant dream for you. Home was no haven for creativity; your trailer, a place where art met its end not in completion, but in destruction—torn, smashed, a casualty of the chaos that waited beyond the school's gates.

There, amidst the smell of paint and the soft light filtering through the dust-speckled windows, you found solace. The art room, with its clutter of brushes and the palette of possibilities, offered not just an escape but a moment of creation untainted by the harsh realities that lay in wait outside its doors. It was in these stolen hours, surrounded by the silent witness of unfinished projects and the ghosts of inspiration, that you dared to believe, even if just for a fleeting moment, in the possibility of a world shaped by the stroke of a brush, rather than the sharpness of words.

As the day waned into evening, the corridors of Hawkins High slowly emptied, leaving behind a tranquility punctuated only by the distant hum of the cleaning crew making their final rounds. The fading light cast long shadows across the halls, painting everything in a soft, melancholic glow. You glanced at the hallway clock, a silent reminder of the hours you needed to kill to ensure you'd return to an empty, quiet home, free from the looming presence of your father.

Chewing thoughtfully on your lip, you diverted towards your locker, thoughts swirling with the prospect of solitude. It was then that a wave of laughter and lively banter washed over you, as a group of jocks, fresh from the showers and glowing with the invincibility of youth, breezed past, oblivious to your existence. Their jubilance, a stark contrast to your solitude, left a fleeting shadow across your spirit, one you shook off as you reached your sanctuary—a small, metal locker.

The ritual was familiar and comforting: exchange the day's burdens for the evening's necessities. But as your hand lingered on the locker door, preparing to seal away the day, another hand, unexpected and swift, slammed it shut. Startled, you spun around, only to find yourself inches away from a familiar face framed by a blond mullet, a figure who had become an unexpected constant in the landscape of your days.

"That was rude," slipped from your lips, a feeble attempt to assert some distance between you and the uninvited closeness. Yet, Billy Hargrove stood unyielding, a smirk playing on his lips, evidently amused by the discomfort flickering across your face. The proximity was overwhelming; his presence, a force that seemed to challenge the very air between you. You yearned to retreat, to press back into the cold, indifferent metal of your locker as you had so many times before. But something within, a spark of defiance or perhaps a curiosity yet unnamed, anchored you firmly in place. His gaze, intense and searching, held a question you weren't sure you wanted to answer, igniting a silent standoff in the dimming light of the nearly deserted hallway.

"Oh, I might just disagree with you on that one, sweetheart," Billy chuckled. "In fact, I found it was rather chivalrous of me to spare you from having to close the locker." Billy's grin unfurled like a flag of both charm and challenge, hovering in the nebulous space between disarmingly sweet and maddeningly smug. It was as if his every gesture, every flicker of expression, had been honed to perfection before an audience of his own reflection, each nuance calculated for effect. Whether your suspicion held water mattered little; the notion that behind his practiced ease lay a carefully maintained facade wasn't far-fetched. After all, mastering the art of the mask was a survival skill in its own right.

You responded to his teasing not with retreat, but with a stance of quiet defiance, arms crossed as if to ward off the sway of his charm. Your chin lifted slightly, an unspoken challenge, while a reluctant smile threatened to betray your composure. "I was actually talking about you trying to scare me into having a heart attack, but sure, let's go with your excuse," you retorted, your voice laced with a mix of sarcasm and amusement.

His laughter, rich and unguarded, filled the space between you, a sound that seemed too genuine for someone so practiced in artifice. The hand that had been a casual claim on the locker next to your head shifted slightly, drawing your gaze despite yourself. It was an involuntary flicker of attention, pulled momentarily to the subtle play of his tongue across his lips—a gesture that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. In that moment, caught in the gravitational pull of his gaze, you felt a sudden, inexplicable connection, framed by lashes any starlet would envy. Yet, as quickly as it came, you shook off the allure, the momentary weakness. With a willful effort, you pulled away, stepping back from the invisible line that had drawn you dangerously close to his orbit. The air seemed to clear as you moved, dispelling the strange spell that had momentarily tethered you to him.

"Do you have any… plans for tonight?" His inquiry floated into the space between you, his hand retreating from the locker, leaving behind an echo of warmth where it once rested.

You found yourself momentarily caught in the headlights of his question. Friday evenings were the realm of raucous parties and cozy gatherings among friends, a social tapestry you found yourself conspicuously absent from. Your plans, if they could even be called that, consisted of nothing more than acquiring a solitary snack and retreating to the quiet of your car's hood in some forgotten corner of a parking lot.

"I'm more the spontaneous type," you offered, a deflection born of necessity as you idly scratched at your elbow. The admission of your solitude, especially in front of Hawkins' newest import, the effortlessly cool Californian, seemed a bridge too far.

"Good," he cut in, a word punctuated with decision as he turned on his heel towards the exit. You watched, a mix of surprise and curiosity bubbling within you as you followed him, your steps a beat behind, to his car. He performed the gentlemanly act of unlocking and holding open the passenger door, an invitation hanging silently in the air.

With a gesture towards the parking lot, you demurred, "I got my car here." Your thumb jabbed backward, signaling the aged Volkswagen that wore its rust and verdigris like badges of endurance, a relic from a bygone era now under the scrutiny of his oceanic gaze.

The tapestry of scars your car bore was a map of your tumultuous journey thus far. The rear windows, obscured by patches of duct tape, were a testament to a violent shove that had sent you crashing into them. The dented trunk narrated another tale of youthful recklessness, a collision with a telephone pole just weeks after your sixteenth birthday had granted you the freedom of the road. But it was the scar on your hip, hidden beneath fabric yet forever etched in your flesh, that told the most painful story. A vase, hurled in anger by your father, had shattered upon impact, embedding its fragments into your skin. Alone, you had navigated the sterile lights of the emergency room, weaving a tale of clumsy mishap to explain the glass shards that had to be meticulously extracted from your body.

Billy's gaze on you felt like a searchlight, probing for a jest or a convincing argument as to why you wouldn't abandon your car to join him. "I can’t just leave my car here, Billy," you found yourself protesting, even as part of you yearned for the escape he offered.

His response was a casual shrug, his posture relaxed against the frame of his open car door, the denim fabric of his jacket accentuating the lean muscles beneath. "Sure, you can," he countered with an easy confidence. "I can drive you back here after."

The word lingered between you, a mystery yet to unfold. "After what?"

Another shrug, the gesture becoming a signature of his nonchalance. "After." His reply hung in the air, an invitation to an undefined adventure, sparking a blend of apprehension and exhilaration within you.

The suggestion hung in the air, heavy with a dark humor that twisted your words into a sinister prediction. "You know, that kind of sounds like you are going to hack me up and then just dump my severed limbs here. After."

Billy's reaction was instantaneous, his voice laced with feigned hurt, "I would never do that." For a moment, you almost believed him, almost extended an apology, until the glint of mischief in his ice-blue gaze betrayed his jest. "You would get blood all over my car seats."

Your response was an eye roll, the tension easing into a grin at the absurdity of it all. "Fine," you declared, your resolve melting as you approached his car. "But don't you dare take me to someplace with all that healthy stuff," you added, a playful warning in your tone as he stepped aside, allowing you to claim the passenger seat as your own. Pausing, one leg already inside, you issued your culinary demands. "I want a burger, some greasy as fuck chili-cheese fries." You paused, a thought occurring. "And maybe a milkshake."

Billy's smirk was a beacon of complicity in the fading light, his teeth a flash of white as he gently closed the door behind you. Circumventing the vehicle with a swagger, he slid into the driver's seat, igniting the engine and bringing the car to life. The sudden eruption of Ted Nugent's distinct voice filled the cabin, the volume dialed to an almost reckless level. You recognized the voice, not out of personal preference, but thanks to a neighbor's musical obsession which had mercifully shifted from Nugent's raspy rock to the heady depths of heavy metal.

As the car pulled away, the world outside blended into a blur, the soundscape within dominated by Nugent's growling melodies. You found yourself enveloped in the paradox of Billy's world, where the threat of fictional dismemberment faded into the background, replaced by the immediate, vivid reality of a quest for the perfect greasy meal.

As Billy caught the wrinkled disapproval on your face, a chuckle escaped him, tinged with amusement. With a swift movement, he dialed the volume down, though the music still filled the car with a lively barrier against silence. It was loud enough to keep the void of conversation at bay, ensuring that the ride was enveloped in a continuous melody rather than awkward pauses.

You found a brief escape as you rolled down the window, extending your hand into the open air, mimicking the actions of your childhood adventures. The wind battled against your palm, inviting you to sway your hand rhythmically, an instinctive dance of freedom and nostalgia. Your eyelids fluttered shut, surrendering to the flood of memories that washed over you. Those adventures, as your mother had fondly termed them, were simple yet profoundly magical. They consisted of visits to art museums where she would craft whimsical stories behind each painting, imbuing them with life and laughter. There were hikes through dense woods, where she spun tales of bear hunts, making you believe in the thrill of the chase and the glory of imaginary conquests. On the rare occasion, she would navigate the aisles of thrift stores with you in tow. Financial constraints made these trips bittersweet, as the allure of unattainable treasures tugged at your young heart, a reminder of desires just beyond reach.

These excursions, modest in their execution but rich in imagination, formed a tapestry of cherished moments. They were escapes from the mundane, where every outing with your mother became a venture into the extraordinary, a testament to the power of love and storytelling to transform the ordinary into the unforgettable.

As Billy brought the car to a halt in front of the neon-lit facade of the arcade, you couldn't help but turn to him, an eyebrow arching in silent query. He responded with a heavy sigh, the weight of reluctance in his voice as he confessed the need to pick someone up. A brief glance at the digital watch strapped to his wrist revealed a clenched jaw, a silent testament to his impatience or perhaps something deeper, an annoyance or an obligation weighing heavily on him.

Before you could voice the questions dancing on the tip of your tongue, Billy's hand darted forward, retrieving a cigarette from the pack nestled within the confines of the glove compartment. The swift flick of his lighter brought the cigarette to life, its ember glowing fiercely with each inhalation, a beacon of his momentary escape. Exhaling a cloud of smoke through the window, he extended the cigarette towards you, a gesture of sharing in his solace, yet his eyes never met yours, as if the offer was made out of habit rather than genuine intent.

"I don’t smoke," you stated, a gentle reminder of your stance. His reaction was almost immediate, his gaze shifting to you, eyes searching for any sign of jest. Finding none, only the earnest clarity of your refusal, he muttered a blend of resignation and a half-hearted vow never to offer again, his attention quickly diverting to the arcade's entrance with a stare sharp enough to bore holes through the walls. "Are you trying to open the doors with your mind?" Your teasing broke the silence, a playful nudge against his intensity. As you sank deeper into the embrace of the leather seat, the corners of your lips tugged upwards. "I tried moving a pen once. I swear, I almost had it." Your words floated between you, a light-hearted attempt to pierce the seriousness that had enveloped him, inviting him back to a moment of shared levity amidst the unexpected pause in your night.

"She's late again," Billy grumbled under his breath, a tinge of irritation lacing his voice as his gaze flickered to his wristwatch once more, a silent sentinel of his impatience. "Little dipshit can skate home." His hand moved decisively towards the gear shift, ready to abandon the wait and drive off into the night, but you intervened, placing your hand gently over his, a silent plea for patience.

"We've been waiting here for barely five minutes." Your eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of concern and curiosity as you met his gaze, attempting to understand the rush. "We can wait a little longer. I don't mind." Your words were soft, an offering of compassion in the face of his growing frustration.

At that exact moment, as if summoned by your willingness to wait, a figure emerged from the glowing entrance of the arcade. A ginger-haired girl, her face flushed and breathless from her rush, her relief palpable as her eyes locked onto the familiar blue Camaro. With her skateboard tucked securely under her arm, she hastened her steps, almost speed-walking towards the safety and promise of a ride home that the vehicle represented.

As the ginger-haired girl approached, you smoothly exited the Camaro, your movements fluid and deliberate. Pulling forward the seat to allow her access, she clambered into the back with a graceless smile, her eyes flicking briefly to Billy with a mix of gratitude and irritation. You caught the exchange, a silent laugh hidden behind your facade as you adjusted the seat back into place and reclaimed your spot beside Billy.

The tension in the car was palpable, a silent storm brewing in the small confines of the vehicle. Billy's gaze, sharp and unyielding, found the girl through the rearview mirror, anchoring her with a look that brooked no argument, yet he made no move to merge into the street's flow.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper, a fragile attempt to quell the storm. Her eyes darted away, seeking refuge in any corner that wasn't filled with Billy's imposing presence.

"You remember what we talked about?" Billy's voice cut through the tension, clear and authoritative. His question, more an ultimatum than a query, hung heavy in the air.

"I said, I'm sorry," the girl retorted, her defensiveness surfacing with her words. A scowl began to form on your face, mirroring the growing frustration and discomfort that swirled inside you as Billy remained stationary, his focus unbroken.

His eyes never left her. "What did I tell you?" The gravity in his voice pulled at you, a painful wrench in your heart as you felt the weight of his words. "What did I tell you, Max?" At his question, your emotions teetered on the edge of a precipice, a quiver on your lip the only hint of the turmoil within.

Suddenly, the confined space of the car became too much, the air too thick to breathe. With a surge of resolve, you tore open the door, the sound of it closing behind you a silent scream for escape. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, a futile attempt to steady their shaking, as the silence from within the car enveloped you like a cold embrace, as his voice haunted your mind.

Billy emerged from the car, his silhouette framed by the setting sun as he rounded the hood with measured steps. You stood there, amidst the quiet chaos, closing your eyes to gather the shards of calm scattered by the storm. A deep breath filled your lungs, an attempt to cleanse the tumult within. When his voice broke through the silence, a soft yet piercing inquiry, "You all right, sweetheart?" it felt different this time. Where once the pet names he draped you in felt like silk, now they scratched against your skin like burlap.

The glare you returned was loaded with an unspoken dialogue, a debate raging within you about the wisdom of diving into depths where perhaps you had no place. Yet, the image of the girl, her spirit dimmed in the rearview mirror, tipped the scales. "You didn't have to berate her like that," the words tumbled out, laced with conviction, while your arms folded defensively across your chest. "She said she was sorry twice."

Observing him, you saw the muscles in his jaw clench, a physical manifestation of his rising defensiveness, and his nostrils flared, a silent herald of the storm to come. "How about you stay out of my fucking business?" The words were sharp, a dagger thrown with precision, meant to wound and warn.

As your scoff broke the tense air between you, it carried with it a bewildering sense of revelation. You found yourself staring, almost in disbelief, as the layers of Billy's persona peeled back to reveal the hot-tempered core you had only heard whispers of. Rumors of his impulsive shoves in crowded hallways and aggressive dominance on the basketball court had reached your ears, painting a picture of a boy who wielded his temper as carelessly as he did his charm. The teenage girls of Hawkins High had not been shy in sharing tales of his less savory deeds, and yet, in a strange twist of fate, they still crowned him with their affections, blinded perhaps by the handsome mask he wore. To you, until this moment, he had shown a different face—one that hinted at kindness beneath the rugged exterior.

"I don't think I can come with you. No, actually, I don't want to anymore." The words emerged from your lips, firm and irrevocable, sealing the fate of the evening that had taken an unexpected turn.

At your declaration, a storm seemed to gather on Billy's brow, his forehead creasing with anger as he teetered on the brink of letting loose a venomous retort. "Why are you being such a bi—" His words faltered, clogging the air between you as the realization of his near slip clamped down on his tongue. A sudden shift overtook his features, the anger washing out as if drained by an unseen force, leaving behind a pallid mask of instant regret.

"You know what, Billy?" you threw the words into the thickening twilight, not seeking an answer but rather casting them as a final verdict. Your feet started to retreat, each step a defiant dance away from the scene. "Fuck you. Oh, and while you're at it, why don't you shove those burgers up where the sun never shines, yeah?" With those parting shots, you spun on your heel, the world spinning momentarily before settling as you marched back toward the familiar silhouette of Hawkins High.

"You don't have your car!" His voice chased after you, a mixture of frustration and incredulity painting each syllable.

"And, still, I'd rather walk!" Your voice rang clear into the fading day, a declaration of independence. For good measure, and perhaps for the sake of your bruised pride, you flung one of your favorite gestures over your shoulder, hoping it would catch him in a moment of speechless observation.

Fucking men.

…

A month had woven itself into the fabric of your life since that tumultuous encounter with Billy Hargrove. His existence had become a silent shadow in your days, marked only by the occasional glimpse of his step-sister, a ghostly reminder of the confrontation that had severed whatever thread had begun to tie you to him. It was ironic, really, how the absence of someone could teach you so much about them. Your days flowed on, untouched by his presence, yet whispers of his life seemed to find you.

You learned of his origins, not through any desire of your own but through the idle chatter of classmates, their words painting a picture of a life you hadn't asked to understand. Billy Hargrove, the boy from California, now residing at 4819 Cherry Lane, wrapped in a scent that lingered in the halls—and apparently his pack—long after he had passed through. These snippets of his existence, caught in passing, seemed to stitch a portrait of a person you no longer knew, if indeed you ever really did.

Each revelation, each accidental eavesdrop, added layers to the image of Billy Hargrove, filling in gaps with colors you hadn't chosen. Yet, for all the unrequested knowledge that had found its way to you, the essence of the boy remained elusive, a puzzle pieced together from fragments overheard in passing. The tendrils of your past, entangled with dreams of a future beyond the confines of Hawkins, whispered to you in moments of solitude. Your aspirations reached far beyond the town's limits, aiming for the hallowed halls of college—a beacon of escape from a life mapped out by circumstances rather than choice. Each rejection letter that found its way to you felt like a door slamming shut, while the solitary acceptance, devoid of the golden ticket of a scholarship, seemed a cruel tease of what could be. College represented more than an education; it was your lifeline out of Hawkins, a chance to evade the shadows that lingered there, including him.

Financial realities cast long shadows over your dreams. The fruits of years spent toiling in odd jobs had been whittled away by the necessities of life and the unending demands of medical supplies, a silent testament to the sacrifices made. The money that didn't vanish into the bottomless pit of healthcare needs was swallowed by the mundane yet essential needs for gas and food, leaving nothing for the luxuries that others might take for granted. The memory of purchasing something solely for the joy it brought, something as simple as a new mascara or a piece of clothing in your favorite color, had faded into the realm of distant dreams.

Yet, as you maneuvered the car out of the school's parking lot, a resolve took root within you—a quiet declaration of self-kindness. The day's burdens lifted slightly at the thought of indulging in a small luxury, a token of appreciation for yourself after so long. The thrift store's familiar aisles offered sanctuary and the possibility of finding something uniquely yours. Amidst the labyrinth of second-hand garments, a splash of yellow caught your eye, halting your aimless search. Your fingers grazed the fabric of a flowy yellow dress, the color a vivid echo of happier times.

In that moment, a memory blossomed, vivid and sweet—a day at the lake with your mother, her laughter mingling with the breeze, her own yellow dress a mirror to the one now in your hands. Despite the harsh realities that awaited back home, her smile in that instant had been a beacon of pure joy, untainted by the shadows of daily struggles. The memory, so sharply beautiful, tugged at your heart with a mixture of longing and sorrow. For a fleeting moment, surrounded by the whispers of past lives encapsulated in the thrift store's treasures, you allowed yourself the luxury of reminiscence and the hope of brighter days, fueled by the simple act of choosing something that sparked joy in your heart.

Your fingers hesitated for a moment before firmly grasping the dress, lifting it from its crowded perch among forgotten stories and second chances. As you queued for purchase, the monotony of waiting nudged your attention toward the world beyond the thrift store's window. Your eyes traced the ebb and flow of life on the sidewalk—a tableau of youthful laughter and the disgruntled expressions of passing adults, caught in a silent battle over public decorum.

Your gaze was about to retreat back to the cashier's call when the distinct rumble of a familiar engine sliced through the ambient noise, capturing your attention. A blue Camaro, unmistakable in its assertive presence, blazed past the window, a fleeting shadow in your line of sight. The timing hinted at a routine you'd inadvertently memorized, perhaps Billy Hargrove on his way to collect Max from the arcade. Despite the distance you'd placed between yourself and him, his existence still managed to weave its way into the fabric of your thoughts, an uninvited yet persistent presence.

Groceries, bought with the remnants of your carefully hoarded finances, soon occupied the passenger seat of your car, a tangible reminder of the practical concerns that governed your life. You returned to the trailer park, your vehicle coming to a rest beside the rusted silhouette of home. The neighborhood was alive with the small, personal escapes of those around you—barbecues, beers, and the semblance of community in the individualistic survival of trailer park living. You offered a half-hearted wave to the scattered acknowledgments from your neighbors, a gesture of civility in the shared anonymity of your lives.

One neighbor, a boy around your age with a habitual distance from the trailer park's confines, returned your wave with a shy, fleeting smile. His presence was a rarity, his time usually spent in the freedom of friendships beyond the park's boundaries. A pang of longing touched you at the thought, a wistful wish for connections you hadn't the luxury to foster.

Stepping out of your car, the dress in hand and groceries by your side, you couldn't help but reflect on the paths not taken, the friendships not formed. The trailer park, with its rusted dreams and patchwork communities, held both the weight of your realities and the whispers of what might have been, had circumstances been kinder.

The descent of twilight had always carried a particular solemnity in the trailer park, a silent herald of the end of another day's labors and the beginning of the park's nocturnal repose. As you ascended the weathered steps, the weight of the grocery bags in your hands was a tangible reminder of the day's responsibilities, a mundane yet necessary burden. Your father's gaze, sharp and scrutinizing, met you through the window, his eyes flickering with a mix of wariness and disapproval between you and the neighbor boy who had offered a fleeting gesture of camaraderie. His expression, a familiar tapestry of anger and suspicion, caused you to avert your gaze and hasten your steps, seeking refuge in the relative safety of the indoors.

The call to the living room came at an hour when the world outside had surrendered to the darkness, the only witnesses to its secrets being the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the sky. The neighbors, those transient figures of your day-to-day existence, had retreated behind their doors, driven by the sudden onset of rain. It was in this secluded setting that your father awaited, ensconced in the worn embrace of his brown-leathered armchair, a throne from which he observed the small dominion of your shared living space.

You paused at a cautious distance, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension, a testament to the delicate balance of your relationship. In the dim light, your fingers absently traced the familiar imperfections in your nails, a diversion from the intensity of his scrutiny. Your father, a man whose actions were measured and deliberate, had managed to maintain a facade of normalcy to the outside world. Whatever speculations might have circulated among the neighbors about the dynamics within your trailer, they remained just that—speculations, with no concrete evidence to breach the veil of privacy that curtained your shared existence.

In that moment, standing in the living room's subdued light, the distance between you felt more than just physical; it was a chasm of unspoken words and stifled emotions, a silent battleground where every gesture and glance held weight.

"I'm very disappointed in you," he spoke, orbs glued to your face which was turned to the carpeted floors. "I give you so much and don't expect a lot in return, now, do I?" You closed your eyes, teeth catching your lips as you shook your head no. "That's right." He lifted himself up from his seat, stepping closer. You stilled. "What I can't have, is my daughter whoring herself out to some boys."

You flinched as a hand gripped your jaw. "I don't—"

His hold tightened, warm alcohol-tinges breath hitting your cheek. "And to have so much disrespect to lie to my face."

"Please, Dad, I don't even know his nam—"

"Shut up!" You winced at his harsh tone, a trembling falling into your bones. "How long have you been going around spreading your fucking legs, huh? You think you can just do that while you're living under my roof?" He shoved you back into the kitchen counter, its edges digging into your skin painfully. "Fucking whore," he hissed. "If I ever see you looking at him again, I'm not going to be so nice."

Your voice was a mere whisper. "But I didn't—" A slap echoed and a jarring stinging spread across your cheek.

"Don't you fucking dare to talk back to me!" His fingers dug into your skin further as he yanked you forward and smashed you to the floor. "Who do you think you are, huh?" He ripped you upwards at the roots of your hair, wrenching you across the floor to the front door. Your head smashed into the wood as your father tore it open with no regard for you. His hand fell from your hair as he shoved you forward with his foot. As you didn't do as he pleased fast enough, he kicked you onwards and again until you tumbled down the stairs of your home.

"I don't want no disrespectful whore under my roof.” The night air was heavy with the scent of rain, a foreboding cloak that seemed to amplify your isolation as your father's anger found its final expression in the harsh, definitive sound of the door slamming shut behind you. Stranded in the aftermath, you lay there for a moment, sprawled on the cold, unforgiving ground, every breath a testament to the throbbing pain in your ribs. Gritting your teeth against the discomfort, you managed to pull yourself into a seated position, the tears that you hadn't invited nor could contain stinging your eyes, mingling with the rain that began to drench you in its cold embrace.

The world around you felt alien, a labyrinth of uncertainties and fears about where the night might take you. Trust, a commodity you found in short supply, left you without a door to knock on, without a sanctuary in which to seek refuge. Even the shelter of your car was denied to you, the keys a distant, unreachable comfort. Your heart heavy, you stood, the direction of your feet a mystery even to yourself as you meandered through the dimly lit streets of Hawkins. It was as if some unseen force guided you, leading you on a path paved with desperation and silent pleas for solace.

Cherry Lane materialized before you almost as if by magic, the familiarity of the surroundings doing little to ease the tumult in your heart. The houses stood like silent sentinels, guarding the secrets of those who dwelled within, until the sight of a blue Camaro, parked with an air of silent expectation, caught your eye. It was a beacon in the gloom, a signpost pointing towards a possibility you hadn't dared to consider until now.

With hesitant steps, you ascended the porch, each footfall a declaration of your vulnerability. The house before you was a tableau of quiet domesticity, its windows glowing softly in the night, yet betraying no hint of the lives unfolding behind them. For a moment, you allowed yourself the small comfort of shelter, the porch a temporary haven from the relentless rain. Gathering the remnants of your courage, you reached out, your hand pausing in mid-air as you braced yourself to bridge the distance between desperation and hope, between solitude and the possibility of finding an ally in the most unexpected of places.

Hesitation gripped you as the absurdity of your situation fully dawned upon you. What madness had driven you to seek refuge here, of all places? It had been over a month since any words had passed between you and Billy, and the possibility of him not being the one to answer the door loomed large in your mind, a specter of potential embarrassment you hadn't fully considered until now. Imagining the awkwardness of explaining your presence to his stepmother or father sent a shiver down your spine. Perhaps the familiar discomfort of your own leaky porch, where sleep would undoubtedly elude you amidst the elements, would have been preferable to the risk of utter humiliation here.

As you turned to make a hasty retreat, a clumsy misstep sent one of the plant pots clattering to the ground, the sound of shattering pottery piercing the steady drum of rain. Mortification washed over you as you knelt, frantically trying to salvage the situation by scooping the spilled soil back into its home, muttering curses under your breath for your own clumsiness.

"What are you doing?" The sound of Billy's voice, laced with confusion and rising over the roar of the rain, caused you to startle, nearly toppling the pot once more in your sudden panic.

You stood, hands smeared with dirt against the fabric of your wet pants, words tripping over themselves in a clumsy attempt to explain. "I'm sorry," was the simple, inadequate conclusion you reached. A nervous laugh escaped you, highlighting the absurdity of your predicament. "I... I don't even know what I'm doing here," you admitted, your voice tinged with the realization of your own folly. "I—I'm going to go. Sorry about the plant."

Billy's gaze drifted past you to the empty street, a silent question in his eyes before returning to you. "Where's your car?" The inquiry was straightforward, yet it left you grappling with the decision of whether to fabricate a lie about its whereabouts.

"I walked," you confessed, the truth slipping out with a hesitance that betrayed your vulnerability.

"In the rain?" His question hung unfinished in the air as his attention abruptly shifted, focusing intently on your face. Whatever he saw there caused a transformation in his demeanor, his previously questioning gaze hardening with resolve. He swung the door wider, an unspoken invitation hanging between you. "Get in," he commanded, a mixture of concern and command in his tone. Your uncertainty was palpable, a silent question mark in your stance until his impatience broke through your indecision. "Do you always need a second invitation? Get inside." His words, more a directive than a suggestion, propelled you forward, his intense stare ushering you into the warmth and shelter of his home. No sooner had the front door clicked shut behind you than Billy’s hand enveloped yours, his grip firm and unexpectedly warm. He led you through the hallway with a sense of urgency, the sound of your sodden shoes squelching against the floor marking your passage. The door to his room was next, closing with a definitive thud that seemed to isolate the world outside. Releasing your hand as though he suddenly remembered the protocol of personal space, Billy turned his attention to the task of decluttering his room with an efficiency that left his clothes arching through the air to land perfectly in a hamper across the space.

You found yourself standing somewhat awkwardly in the middle of his room, the chill of your drenched clothes causing you to shiver uncontrollably. Instinctively, you crossed your arms in an attempt to preserve warmth, your gaze drifting downwards before curiosity prompted a survey of your surroundings. The room was a capsule of Billy's world – his bed, a stark island in the chaos, lay opposite the door, while a white dresser burdened with an assortment of items claimed territory to your left. A stereo system and a mirror positioned at the foot of his bed stood guard in front of his closet, serving as silent sentinels of his privacy. The walls were an eclectic gallery featuring a mix of band posters—Metallica's ‘Kill 'Em All’ and Tank's ‘Filth Hounds of Hades’ among them—and a singular, provocatively posed woman adorning a minuscule bikini set.

A cough from Billy broke the silence, his posture shifting uncomfortably as he planted a hand on his hip, mirroring your own awkwardness. "Do you wanna take a hot shower?" His voice, hesitant yet earnest, sliced through the tension.

You matched his earlier gesture, clearing your throat before responding with a nod, your smile timid yet sincere, a silent thank you. "If you don't mind."

His response was quick, almost reflexive. "I wouldn't be asking if I did." The briefest flicker of something akin to regret crossed his features, a look that suggested he found the current situation less than ideal. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, as if to dismiss his own thoughts, he guided you to the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom. Handing you a towel with an awkwardness that seemed out of place on him, he promised to find you some dry clothes, leaving you with the comforting prospect of warmth and a momentary escape from the night's chaos. Peeling away the layers of your drenched attire felt like shedding a second, clammy skin, each piece a testament to the frugality that necessity had imposed upon your life. The fabric, cheap and worn, clung to you with a stubborn chill, and even as you stood bare in the relative warmth of the bathroom, shivers danced across your skin, relentless in their embrace.

You stepped over the edge of the tub with a cautious grace, turning the faucet with hands that trembled not just from the cold but from the uncertainty of the moment. As the water sputtered to life, you drew the shower curtain with a swift motion, sealing yourself away from the world for a brief interlude. The array of bottles lining the tub's edge caught your eye, prompting an involuntary snort of amusement.

Billy, it seemed, defied the stereotype of masculine simplicity in skincare, the stereotype that suggested a preference for efficiency over variety. Your father, with his staunch allegiance to three-in-one products, had been your benchmark for male grooming habits. Yet here, in Billy's shower, was a collection that spoke of a different creed. You couldn't help but smirk, a playful curiosity lifting your brows as you inspected the labels one by one. Shampoos, more than one might expect, each bottle worn from use, nestled beside conditioners—one clearly favored, its contents more depleted.

The body wash, singular in its presence, was an olfactory enigma. Unscrewing the cap, you were met with an assault of scents, as if the essence of every cologne and deodorant had been distilled into this one vessel. The smell was overpowering, undeniably masculine, a concentrated embodiment of Billy's presence. You searched for the words to describe it but landed on the singularly fitting—manly.

As the warm water cascaded over you, washing away the layers of the day—the sweat, the remnants of makeup that had survived the downpour—you moved with haste. There was a keen awareness of not overstaying your welcome in this unexpected sanctuary. Gratitude for Billy's kindness mingled with a sense of urgency; such generosity was a rare currency in your world, and you were acutely conscious of its value. In these moments, under the stream of cleansing water, you found a temporary reprieve, a fleeting sense of solace amid the turbulence of your life. The moment your skin felt the cool air of the bathroom, a soft knock echoed against the door, a gentle but unexpected intrusion into your solitude. Clutching the towel around yourself with a sudden modesty, you cracked the door open just enough to extend a hand into the gap. Billy's presence on the other side was palpable, his chuckle a low, soft sound that fluttered through the air as he passed a bundle of clothes to you. "Thanks," you murmured, a rush of words barely escaping before you retreated behind the door once more.

Dressed in the clothes Billy had chosen—socks, boxers, sweats, and a shirt—you paused at the threshold of his room, suddenly conscious of the absence of your bra and acutely aware that he was, too. With a final act of tidiness, you folded the towel meticulously and flicked off the lights, leaving behind the sanctuary of the bathroom for the uncertainty that lay beyond.

You found yourself lingering in the doorway, arms wrapped defensively across your chest, the fabric of his shirt a poor shield against the vulnerability you felt. Billy's gaze upon you was indescribable, heavy with an unspoken expectation as if he wished to peel back the layers of your being and examine the hidden scars that lay beneath.

Mustering what little composure you had, you broke the silence, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

His brow furrowed, confusion and something else—was it concern?—etching lines into his forehead. "For what?" he queried, his voice a blend of curiosity and something softer.

You diverted your gaze, a sense of intrusion overwhelming you despite the sanctuary he'd provided. "Bothering you. It's late," you admitted, feeling the weight of your unwelcome presence.

The sound of his movement pulled your eyes upward, half-expecting, half-hoping he might bridge the distance between you. Instead, you were met with the sight of his back as he rifled through his nightstand, the tension in the room palpable. "Sit," he commanded, and though under any other circumstance you might have bristled at the order, the exhaustion and gratitude mingling within you coaxed compliance.

Without protest, you perched on the edge of the bed, a silent observer to his actions, the room around you filled with an unspoken dialogue made of glances and gestures, a fragile understanding hanging in the balance. As he pivoted towards you, a black box in his grasp, an electric tension filled the air. He chose not to sit beside you on the bed; instead, he knelt before you, an unexpected intimacy in the space between your parted knees. Your breath caught, a silent gasp lost in the moment, and irritation flared within you as you noticed the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "What are you doing?" you inquired, a mix of curiosity and wariness lacing your words, your gaze sharply tracking his movements.

"If I remember correctly, Sweetheart, you gave me a lecture on using Neosporin or otherwise you get scars, right?" His voice held a playful rebuke, cutting off any response you might have mustered. "Let's make sure that doesn't happen, huh?"

His attention fixed on a spot on your forehead, drawing your own hand reflexively to the area he observed, only to flinch at the tender reminder of a wound you hadn't registered until now. The memory of the collision with your trailer door flickered through your mind, a painful blur in the chaos of the night. His touch was unexpectedly gentle as he attended to the wound, a carefulness in his actions that surprised you, challenging what you thought you knew of him. Despite the months you'd spent in his orbit, this moment revealed layers you hadn't glimpsed before.

"You don't have to do that," you found yourself saying as he procured a tube of Neosporin—a recent addition to his kit, no doubt on your advice. "I can do it, too."

"Never said you couldn't," he hummed back, undeterred as he meticulously applied the ointment, his focus undivided. With deliberate care, he placed two butterfly plasters across the cleaned wound, a silent testament to his unspoken concern. Gathering the discarded wrappers and used items, he compressed them in his hand and rose, moving to dispose of the trash. In that small, enclosed space, with the sound of rain a distant murmur against the windows, a different side of Billy was illuminated under the soft glow of the room's lighting — a side tender, careful, and starkly at odds with the rough edges of his usual demeanor. You cleared your throat, a gesture so small yet so loaded with the weight of the evening's events.

"Thank you," you managed to say, voice barely above a whisper. He paused in his motions, turning towards you with a smile so radiant it threatened to stop your heart in its tracks.

"No problem, Sweetheart," he replied, his voice a smooth salve over the jagged edges of the night. As he moved to dispose of the trash, a sudden, inexplicable tumult stirred within you. With a hand pressed against your chest, you sought to quell the storm brewing beneath your ribs, a futile attempt to calm the chaos his mere presence invoked.

Rising to your feet, you drifted towards the window, seeking solace in the steady downpour that mirrored your inner turmoil. The rain continued to fall, now more fiercely than before, a relentless deluge that held you captive in this moment. You felt his presence before you saw him, the heat of his body a stark contrast to the chill seeping through the glass.

"Didn't get much of this in California, huh?" you ventured, an attempt to bridge the chasm of silence between you.

He let your question hang in the air, unanswered, yet the fleeting shadow that crossed his face spoke volumes, a bitterness that matched the storm outside. His gaze shifted, momentarily caught in the past before refocusing on the present — on the wound that marred your forehead. "What happened?" he asked, the question simple yet loaded with unspoken concern.

You shrugged, a movement laden with the weight of untold stories. "Nothing," you replied, the lie slipping from your lips as easily as breath, a practiced deception you had mastered over time. "I tripped."

"And that had you walking through the rain in the middle of the night?" His skepticism was palpable, a challenge to the facade you'd constructed.

A battle raged within you, the urge to confess warring with the instinct to conceal. You bit back the tears threatening to spill, the pain of admission too great to bear. "I locked myself out and didn't know what else to do."

"Yeah?" he pressed, his disbelief a tangible force.

"Yeah." Your affirmation was a whisper in the storm, a feeble attempt to maintain the crumbling walls around your heart.

He moved closer, his presence overwhelming, trapping you between the solid reality of his form and the immovable barrier of his closet. "If you don't want to talk about it then say so," he declared, his voice a command that brooked no argument. "Don't lie and pretend to be fine when clearly you aren't."

In that charged moment, with the rain as your sole witness, the space between you became a battleground of unspoken words and concealed wounds, a testament to the complexity of human connection. Your jaw clenched tightly, a tangible manifestation of your frustration and defiance. The notion of receiving unsolicited advice, particularly from him, was almost laughable. Gratitude for his shelter in the storm did not extend to welcoming painful truths. "Oh, that's rich coming from you, Billy. It's not like you aren't just fine all the time," you retorted, your words sharp, laden with a bitterness born of too many hidden truths.

The shift in him was immediate, his anger dissipating as though your words had pierced a veil, revealing a glimpse of the vulnerability he so meticulously guarded. When he raised his hand, the gentle brush of his forefinger against the stray tear on your cheek sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. "I never said I wanted to talk about it," he murmured, his voice soft, revealing a hint of his own battles fought in silence. Your heart fluttered uncontrollably, his touch igniting a flurry of sensations, momentarily tethering you to a moment of raw connection.

The sudden crack of lightning, followed by the deep rumble of thunder, jolted you back to reality, breaking the spell that had momentarily bound you. The urge to flee, to return to the semblance of normalcy that awaited at home, surged within you. "I should probably go," you whispered, hoping against hope that your father's drunken stupor would erase the night's events by morning, that a simple act of domestic normality could smooth over the fractures in your life. "Do you have an umbrella or something?"

His response was instant, a resolute rejection of your plan. "Do you really think I'll let you get back there now? So, you can flash a cut lip and a blue eye tomorrow at school, too?" His words, though posed as a question, left no room for argument. In his refusal to allow you to venture back into the storm, both literal and metaphorical, lay an unspoken pledge of protection, a sanctuary against the tempest that raged beyond his door. "What does it matter?" you found yourself arguing, feeling the weight of your own arms as they fell limply by your sides. The sense of defeat was palpable in the air. "So, I stay tonight, then what, Billy? I'll have to go back eventually, and it's only until the school year's over. Then, I'm gone anyway."

His response came in the form of a growl, though you could tell his anger wasn't directed at you. It stemmed from a place of shared desperation, from having clung to the same sliver of hope himself. "So, you're just gonna let him beat you for the rest of the year?"

Your response was a snort, laced with sarcasm, as you tilted your head, challenging him. "Aren't you doing the same thing?" The silence that followed was telling, even if no words were spoken, until he dared to step closer.

"It does matter, you know," he said, his voice softer now, reducing the physical distance between you yet careful not to invade your personal space.

"Why?" The question came out more as a whisper of disbelief. For the past month, he had acted as if you were barely visible, and suddenly, he seemed to care deeply. "Why now?"

His hesitation was palpable, as if the words he was about to utter could scorch his tongue. "I like you." The simplicity of his confession hung between you, fraught with unspoken complexities.

You bit your lip, a sad, resigned smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you lowered your head. "Don't do that to yourself." The words were barely a whisper, yet they carried the weight of a lifetime. Tears threatened to spill over, a testament to a sentiment you had never expected to receive. The idea that someone could not just tolerate but actually like you was foreign, almost too much to bear. All your life, you had erected walls to keep people at a distance, for their affection meant empathy, and with empathy came pain. The sight of your wounds would become their agony, and in a twisted way, their suffering would become yours, completing a circle of shared hurt you had always sought to avoid.

"Who do you think I am, Billy?" You backed away slowly, trying to maintain some semblance of distance between you and Billy, but the inevitable happened—your retreat was abruptly stopped by the wall. A wave of unfamiliar pressure washed over you. Was it fear? Or perhaps vulnerability? You couldn't quite place the emotion. "I'm not the kind of person to have around. I won't complete you, won't enrich your life,” you stammered out, your voice a mix of warning and fear. These words were your feeble attempt to shield him, to prepare him for the inevitable disappointment that seemed to follow you like a shadow. "I—I'm just so fucked up and stuck trying to put everything... everything broken back into place. I... I can't look for your shards, too."

When your eyes finally dared to meet his, you expected to see annoyance, maybe even rejection. Instead, what you found was empathy, his expression softened, recognizing the turmoil within you as something he too understood. "I don't want you to try and fix me," he said, his tone gentle, soothing the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind. His hand reached for yours, not as a claim but as a gesture of companionship, of solidarity. "But searching for shit goes so much faster if you do it together." In the dimly lit room, where shadows danced across the walls with a life of their own, Billy Hargrove revealed himself in a way that words could scarcely capture. The man you thought you knew, encased in layers of protective anger and a cocksure swagger, allowed those defenses to melt away in your presence. It was as if he peeled back the veneer of bravado, exposing the raw, unguarded depths of his soul—a mosaic of past hurts and present struggles laid bare for only your eyes.

The moment his fingers brushed against your cheek, a cascade of sensations unfurled within you. It was more than a touch; it was an electric current that surged through your veins, rendering you speechless, breathless. As you locked gazes with him, drowning in the ocean of his bright blue eyes, the world seemed to pause. Every attempt at drawing breath felt like an insurmountable task, and yet, paradoxically, you felt more grounded than ever, as if an invisible force tethered you to the very core of the earth. Simultaneously, there lingered an exhilarating sense of lightness, a curious wonder if you might suddenly break free from gravity's embrace and ascend into the ether. The effect Billy had on you was profound, leaving you to ponder if perhaps, in some small way, you affected him similarly.

Did you trouble his thoughts as he did yours? Did your presence steal his breath and unsettle him to his core? Within the quiet chambers of your heart, a small, worn, and lonely piece of you clung to the hope that he might feel the same.

As his index finger traced the contours of your face with reverence, from the softness of your cheek to the furrowed worry lines on your forehead, and finally to the tender vulnerability of your lips, you sensed a hesitancy in him. His other hand, which had been a mere whisper away from yours against the wall, dropped slightly, fingers brushing against the fabric of the shirt he had lent you. With a subtle tug, influenced by a brief flare of his nostrils, it was as if he was battling a storm of desire within, restraining himself with a Herculean effort from crossing a line from which there was no return. In that moment, Billy Hargrove was no longer just a name or a face; he was a force, simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating, threatening to unravel the very fabric of your being.

The words stumbled from your lips, frail and unsteady, shattering the facade of indifference you had desperately clung to. "So—" you began, only to have your voice fracture cruelly midway, exposing the turbulence beneath your calm exterior. "You want to be friends…like officially?"

A crooked smile unfurled across his face, his deep-set eyes twinkling with a blend of amusement and an unexpected trace of shyness. His grip on the fabric of the shirt intensified, his knuckles whitening with the strain. "Trust me, Sweetheart, friends isn’t what I had in mind," he confessed, his voice a low murmur that sent a wave of heat cascading down your spine, igniting a flurry of desire that pooled in the depths of your stomach.

You stood petrified, a statue of anticipation, as an inexplicable longing surged within you, compelling your fingers to twitch at your sides. You yearned to weave your fingers through the silky strands of his meticulously styled hair, to explore the contours of his being with a touch. Yet, as he retreated, fishing a pack of cigarettes from the depths of his jeans, you found yourself anchored in place, watching him with a mixture of astonishment and burgeoning disappointment. It wasn't the withdrawal you had anticipated that took you by surprise, but rather the keen sense of letdown that he didn't pursue the tension crackling between you further.

When he turned his back to you momentarily in search of an ashtray, a childish pout began to form on your lips, a silent testament to your discontent. Billy, however, remained oblivious to your turmoil, opting instead to lean casually against the wall by the open window, exhaling smoke into the tempestuous embrace of the rainy night. You pondered over his actions, the deviation from his usual indifference to smoking indoors. The scent of tobacco, which had once been a source of discomfort, had, over time, woven itself into the tapestry of comforts associated with Billy's presence. It was an aroma that, in the context of his room—a sanctuary of chaotic tranquility—had become oddly reassuring. Mixed with the other, more elusive scents that lingered in the corners of his space, it crafted an ambiance that was undeniably Billy, and in that moment, you realized how deeply entwined your senses had become with the essence of his existence. The array of colognes that enveloped him carried none of the hallmarks of the cheap fragrances that typically permeated the crowded hallways of Hawkins High. His presence, and indeed his room, was suffused with a complex aroma—slightly woody, perhaps a hint of leather, and beneath it all, a subtle undertone of sweetness that floated gently in the air. It was an olfactory melody that intrigued you, a scent that you found unexpectedly comforting.

Wrapped in your own arms, you approached him, a silent figure against the tumult of your thoughts, pressing your back to the wardrobe adjacent to his window. Without a word, he offered the cigarette to you, a gesture that halted you momentarily. As you reached out, the brief touch of his warm fingers against yours sent an inexplicable shiver down your spine, a sensation that seemed to echo on your skin long after the contact had ended. Drawing in the acrid taste of the smoke, you allowed yourself a moment to indulge in the bitterness, your eyes lifting to meet his.

There he was, a grin playing on his lips, watching you with an intensity that rendered you momentarily breathless. The world around you narrowed to the space between you two, your senses hyper-aware of his proximity. The cigarette, now a forgotten prop in your hand, no longer demanded your attention as you found yourself irresistibly drawn into the depths of his blue gaze. An unconscious bite to your lip betrayed your thoughts as your eyes darted to his lips and back again.

He closed the distance with a single, purposeful step, igniting a trail of warmth that flickered to life within you. Billy leaned in, his breath—a mix of smoke and something indefinably sweet—brushed against your cheek, sending ripples of anticipation through you. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, his voice a blend of amusement and challenge. "You gonna smoke that, Sweetheart, or are you just gonna keep staring?"

In that moment, under the weight of his gaze and the heat of his breath, you realized the cigarette was merely a bystander in a dance of tension and unspoken desires, a dance that had you captivated and wanting more. A blush crept up your neck, a vivid testimony to the turmoil within, as you extended the cigarette towards him, a silent plea for normalcy. Yet, instead of simply taking it, he lingered, his chuckle a low rumble against the shell of your ear, sending a cascade of goosebumps down your flesh. He leaned back, his movements languid yet deliberate, eyes locked on yours as he accepted the cigarette, drawing in a slow, purposeful drag. Under the weight of his gaze, your heart raced, each beat a drumroll of anticipation. His lips twitched into a smirk, and in that moment, the tether of your restraint snapped.

Driven by a surge of boldness, you seized the fabric of his shirt, pulling him into a collision of lips. The world narrowed to the point of contact, where fear and desire mingled in a single breath. But as quickly as the impulse came, it retreated, leaving you to recoil in a mix of surprise and mortification. "I'm so sor—"

But your apology was cut short, his hand finding the nape of your neck, an anchor pulling you back into the storm. His lips sealed over yours with a fervor that spoke of raw need and simmering frustration. The sensation in your stomach exploded into a wildfire, racing through your veins, igniting every fiber of your being. His hands, emboldened and roaming, traced paths filled with longing and anticipation, his grip on your hip a silent command that spurred a sharp intake of breath. Yet, as Billy drew you closer, melding your body to his with a hunger that spoke of endless waiting, the kiss deepened, transcending the confines of time and space. The world outside this embrace dissolved into insignificance, leaving nothing but the intensity of your connection, a thirst quenched in the meeting of lips, finally stilled in the embrace of shared desire. Emerging first from the embrace, you found yourself ensnared in a heady daze, breathless from a mixture of oxygen deprivation and the intoxicating effect of Billy's touch. Your hands clung to his shirt collar, a desperate bid to maintain the closeness, the electricity that buzzed between you. Yet, Billy harbored no intention of releasing you into the cold reality just yet. As your eyelids fluttered shut again, his lips embarked on a fervent exploration along the tender expanse of your neck. Each kiss was a brand, igniting fires within your veins, stirring a wild rush of blood that screamed for more.

In his ministrations, Billy was anything but tentative, his actions painting the strokes of your silent wishes with bold, assertive colors. You reveled in the sensation, a glorious chaos made of his fervent kisses and the playful nip of teeth against your skin, eliciting a hitch in your breath that morphed into a soft whine. This sound drew a triumphant grin across his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect he wielded over you.

The moment shifted as he gently maneuvered you backward, only to ease himself onto the edge of his bed, pulling you into his orbit with an unspoken command. You remained on your feet, a silent statue, until he chastised you with a playful tilt of his head and a tug on the waistband of the pants he had lent you. "You do always need a second invitation, huh?" he teased, his voice a blend of amusement and desire.

His hands, firm and insistent, found your thighs, drawing you irresistibly onto his lap. Positioned intimately close, your breath caught as the proximity sparked a fresh surge of desire. Your gaze flitted over his features, captivated by the intensity in his eyes before inevitably being drawn to the smug curve of his lips. In that moment, caught in the gravitational pull of his gaze and the promise of his smile, you teetered on the edge of surrender, every fiber of your being alight with anticipation.

In the charged silence of the room, your voice was a mere whisper, a soft breeze that dared not disturb the delicate sphere of intimacy that encased you both. "Is anyone else home?" The words barely left your lips, a testament to the fragile moment you were so afraid to shatter.

Billy's response was a grin, one that spoke volumes of the thoughts he'd kept at bay, now unchained in the privacy of his domain. "No," he breathed, a single syllable heavy with unspoken promises. His hands, emboldened by the assurance of solitude, resumed their exploratory journey with renewed vigor. They ascended your thighs, ventured over the curve of your behind, and continued upwards until the rough warmth of his calloused palms met the smooth expanse of your waist. "Concerned you won't be able to stay quiet, Sweetheart?" he teased, a playful challenge in his voice that sent a shiver down your spine.

You shook your head, a flush of warmth crawling up your neck, betraying your inner turmoil. "Just curious," you managed to say, your fingers finding solace in the soft strands of his blonde hair. Under your gaze, something flickered in his eyes—was it adoration?—a fleeting glimpse into the depths of Billy Hargrove that few were privy to. The realization that you were witnessing the unguarded essence of the man beneath the facade was both exhilarating and daunting, a secret you cherished deep within your heart.

In an unexpected move, he drew you against him, erasing any distance that remained. The gasp that escaped your lips mingled with the air as you became acutely aware of his desire pressing insistently against you. His lips found yours in a seal of fervent need, prompting an involuntary arch of your hips against his. A groan, laced with curses and unbridled yearning, vibrated against your mouth as Billy's restraint began to unravel. And then, with a fluidity that left you breathless, the world flipped—Billy loomed above you, a figure of strength and passionate intent, casting a shadow that promised an escape from the confines of reality. One arm kept him propped up above you, the other sliding beneath your butt, lifting you to meet his movements. A delicate moan fled your tongue, almost lost in the kiss as he sealed his lips onto yours, excitement thrumming in your core. As Billy's lips departed from yours, a reluctant retreat that sent a pang through your chest, you were left gasping beneath him, the room spinning slightly in the absence of his touch. For a brief moment, the world outside the cocoon of his room ceased to exist, leaving nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths hanging in the air. Your eyelids fluttered open only when the tender caress of his thumb traced your bottom lip, drawing your gaze upwards to meet his. In his eyes, a storm of emotions hinted at a struggle, a reluctance to break the connection that had so fiercely ignited between you.

Silently, he rolled away, the loss of his warmth immediate and stark. The soft click of the light switch plunged the room into semi-darkness, illuminated only by the moon's glow filtering through the curtains. "Night, Sweetheart," he murmured, a term of endearment that now seemed to carry a weight of unspoken words between you.

Your brow furrowed, confusion and a myriad of unanswered questions swirling in your mind. The impulse to voice your bewilderment, to ask why he had halted the crescendo of your shared passion, rose sharply within you. Yet, each time your lips parted, no words emerged, as if the gravity of the moment held your voice captive. With a heavy heart, you turned away, presenting your back to him, a silent testament to the tumult within.

As the minutes trickled by, Billy's breaths deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep, a testament to his drift into tranquility. Left alone with your thoughts, the questions continued to dance at the edges of your consciousness, unanswered, echoing in the quiet of the night. Despite the turmoil, the pull of exhaustion proved stronger, and eventually, your eyes closed, surrendering to the elusive promise of rest, even as the mystery of his actions lingered, a shadow at the back of your mind. Upon awakening, you found yourself momentarily lost in the fog of disorientation, the remnants of sleep clouding your senses. As your consciousness gradually sharpened, the events of the night prior began to piece themselves together, painting a vivid picture of unexpected solace. For the first time in what felt like eons, you had been gifted with the luxury of a deep, undisturbed sleep, free from the clutches of anxiety that so often held you captive. The sensation of safety enveloped you, a cocoon of warmth that was both foreign and immensely comforting.

As awareness seeped further into your waking mind, you became acutely conscious of the presence beside you. An arm, strong and reassuring, draped across your middle, its weight a silent promise of protection. A leg, muscular and firm, intertwined with your own, anchoring you to this moment of peace. The thought of disrupting this tranquil intimacy, of stirring him from sleep and thus dissolving the delicate bubble of comfort you found yourself in, was unbearable. So, you settled back down, surrendering to the warmth, allowing yourself a moment more of this rare contentment.

However, reality was never far behind, its relentless march signaled by the crimson digits of the alarm clock on his bedside table. A quiet groan escaped your lips as you registered the time—6:30 a.m. The demands of the day loomed large, a reminder that the sanctuary you found in Billy's arms was but a temporary reprieve. School awaited, a stark return to the routines and expectations that defined your everyday life.

The fragile silence of the morning was shattered abruptly by the growl of an engine cutting through the calm, a harbinger of the chaos to come. The sound of car doors slamming, followed by the rise and fall of angry voices, punctured the tranquility of dawn. A woman's pleading tones, desperate for discretion, clashed with the male fury, an unwelcome intrusion into the peacefulness of the early hours. Footsteps, heavy and ominous, approached the house, the finality of the front door slamming open a jarring wake-up call.

In an instant, Billy was alert, his body tensing as he sat up, the sudden movement a stark contrast to the gentle stillness that had enveloped you moments before. The reality you had momentarily escaped was crashing back down with undeniable force, the impending confrontation a stark reminder of the world waiting beyond the haven of his room. You cursed under your breath, a sharp departure from the warmth and safety that had enveloped you just moments ago. The bed suddenly felt too large and cold as you distanced yourself, your presence—a constant source of comfort—receding with each step you took. Alarmed, you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching your silhouette navigate the dimly lit room. You paused at the door, an unmistakable tension in your posture as you strained to listen to the cacophony of voices and footsteps echoing through the house. It was a dance of shadows and sounds, one you knew all too well, having played the same game of anticipation and fear in your own life.

The voices crescendoed then waned, the storm outside your sanctuary dissipating momentarily. A male voice, harsh and demanding, cut through the relative calm, summoning you with a ferocity that made the air in the room heavier. You watched as the boy before you transformed, your body stiffening, every muscle coiling in dread. It was as if you could see the gears turning in your head, a frantic search for any misstep that could have incited this wrath.

"What's wrong?" Your voice was barely a whisper, a ripple in the tense atmosphere as you moved to join him. But his arm shot out, a barrier between you, a silent plea for you to keep your distance.

The impending confrontation burst into your room with the force of a storm. Your father, a tempest of anger, filled the doorway, his eyes wild, the veins in his neck bulging with every shouted word. His rage was palpable, a living entity that sought to crush everything in its path. And then his eyes found you. In that instant, the fury that had contorted his features melted away, replaced by a facade as thin and fragile as ice over a winter lake. It was a look you recognized, one your own father adopted in the presence of outsiders, a mask that barely concealed the storm raging beneath. His gaze flicked between you and Billy, a silent accusation in the shift of his eyes.

"I thought we agreed on no more... guests?" His voice, though softer, still carried the undercurrent of a threat. You remained silent, a statue in the eye of the storm, your resignation more telling than words could ever be. Your father straightened, adopting a veneer of civility that did nothing to ease the tension clawing at your insides.

"I'm sorry, but my son isn't allowed nightly visitors. Why don't you show your lady friend the door, hm?" The words were spoken with a superficial politeness that did nothing to mask the disdain and control that simmered beneath the surface. It was a moment suspended in time, a crossroads between the sanctuary of the night past and the harsh daylight reality of your present. Billy remained motionless, his gaze fixed unflinchingly on his father. The silence between them was heavy, laden with unspoken threats and long-standing grievances. It was in this tense tableau that he uttered your name, a sound so rarely heard in such a context that it jolted you. “Why don’t you get dressed?” His voice, though soft, carried an uncharacteristic gravity.

With a nod that was more reflex than conscious agreement, you skirted past the palpable tension in the room, escaping to the sanctuary of the bathroom where your clothes awaited, still bearing the chill of being slightly damp. Once enveloped in the privacy it offered, the murmur of voices beckoned you closer, curiosity and concern pressing you to eavesdrop.

“You’re gonna say goodbye to your whore and then you and I are going to have a talk,” you heard, the venom in the elder Hargrove’s voice unmistakable.

Billy’s reply was a shadow of his usual defiance, “She isn’t—”

“What was that?” The threat in his father’s voice was sharp, a warning that brooked no argument.

Unable to bear the thought of the situation escalating in your absence, you stepped back into the fray, positioning yourself as a physical barrier between Billy and his father. The air was electric with tension, a tangible force that seemed to test the very limits of endurance. Yet, your voice, when it came, was steady. “Billy, you promised to drive me home.”

“I’m sorry, but Billy can’t right now,” his father interjected smoothly, a sneer barely concealed beneath his veneer of civility.

“But I have no other way of getting home, sir,” you countered, meeting his gaze with a defiance born of necessity.

“I’m sure it’s close enough to walk. It’s Hawkins, after all,” he dismissed, his tone laced with condescension.

“See, sir, I live just outside of Hawkins, actually.” Your reply was calm, measured, even as you laid bare the stakes of the situation.

“Is that so?” His skepticism was palpable, a challenge thrown down between you.

“Yes, and Billy assured me he would take me home, otherwise I’ll miss school, sir.” Your words, carefully chosen, were a gambit, one that played on his momentary hesitation.

The standoff that followed was a testament to the complex web of power and defiance that characterized the Hargrove household. Eventually, he took a step back, conceding ground with visible reluctance. “Now, we can’t have that, can we?” His once-over was dismissive, reducing you to nothing more than a problem to be solved, a nuisance to be dispatched.

“We will talk when you get back,” he finally said to Billy, his words heavy with unspoken threats.

“I’ll have to drive straight to school after dropping her off, otherwise I’ll miss first period.” Billy’s response was a careful negotiation, a bid for time and a brief reprieve from the confrontation that awaited him. His father’s glare could have scorched the earth, a silent vow of retribution that hung in the air long after he had left the room. Billy closed the door with a quiet click, sealing off the outside world. He leaned against it, a solitary figure momentarily bowed by the weight of his father’s expectations. The sigh that escaped him was one of relief, a brief respite in the eye of an ever-present storm.

"Are you okay?" Your voice was laced with trepidation, the words barely a whisper in the charged atmosphere of the room. A part of you feared his anger, worried that your intervention might have only served to escalate the already volatile situation. Maybe, in his eyes, you were to blame for exacerbating the tension. He turned to face you, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that halted your breath. The silence that followed was thick, a tangible entity that seemed to pulse with your racing heart. When he remained motionless, the void of his response sent a spike of panic through you. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make things worse. I should have stayed quiet—"

But before you could further berate yourself, his lips crashed against yours, an urgent, fierce motion that swept away the remnants of the confrontation like debris in a storm. His arms encircled you, pulling you into the eye of his tempest, while your hands found the solid wall of his chest, a grounding point amid the whirlwind. Billy's grin, felt rather than seen, infused the kiss with a defiance, a silent declaration that no force, no matter how daunting, could intrude upon this moment he claimed as solely yours. His hands shamelessly groped at your hips and behind, tongue dominating yours. You pulled away in desperate need for air, panting and dazed. Billy’s lips fell to your neck, sucking and licking at the saltiness of your skin. “You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now.” Squeezing your ass again, he let go of you and, with one last kiss, went to get dressed.

You found yourself adrift in the center of his room, each breath a testament to the whirlwind of emotions that had carried you from silence to this uncharted territory. How, you pondered, had the distance between you closed so swiftly, transforming into an intimacy that left you both breathless and bewildered?

Moments later, the bathroom door swung open, revealing Billy. His readiness was astonishing, his preparation swift beyond anticipation. With a nonchalant ease, he emerged, the very image of casual confidence. "Come on, Sweetheart, let's the hell outta here," he beckoned, his voice a mix of warmth and urgency. Grasping your hand, he guided you towards the promise of freedom beyond these walls. Yet, as fate would have it, his father's voice shattered the brief illusion of escape, calling out to him once more. Instantly, you felt the change in Billy, a tension coiling within him, visible in the rigid set of his shoulders. He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, a silent plea for respite, an attempt to shield his spirit from the weight of reality. Casting a fleeting, half-hearted glance your way, his fingers slipped from yours, leaving a cold absence in their wake as he turned to face whatever storm awaited him.

Left in limbo near the front door, you strained your ears, hoping to catch a fragment of the exchange, but silence was your only companion. With a soft sigh of resignation, you turned your gaze outward, taking in the Hargrove residence bathed in the soft glow of morning light, nestled among the uniformity of Cherry Lane, Hawkins, Indiana.

The neighborhood was a palette of similarity, each house a variation on a theme, distinguished only by the creativity or neglect of its occupants. Some lawns bore the scars of a relentless summer, patches of grass striving towards life amidst the drought, while others lay untamed, a testament to indifference. The Hargrove's lawn, though touched by the season's harshness, was neatly trimmed, a small rebellion against the decay. The path leading to their home was worn, stones cracked and yielding to time, yet adorned with recent attempts at beauty—flowers and bushes planted with hope at their edges.

It was a scene markedly different from the chaos of the trailer park, where the dance of avoidance was a daily routine—sidestepping the debris of forgotten nights and broken dreams. Here, in the relative tranquility of Billy's world, such hazards were absent, a small mercy in the grand tapestry of his life. When Billy reappeared, his stormy demeanor spoke volumes before a word was uttered. The disheveled state of his collar hinted at a confrontation, a silent testament to his father's harsh grasp. He breezed past you, the air crackling with the tension that followed him, his gaze barely grazing yours. You trailed behind, a frown etching your features, though you kept your thoughts to yourself. Settling into the passenger seat of his Camaro, you fastened the seatbelt, a silent barrier between you and the world outside. The cozy sanctuary that had briefly cocooned you both seemed to dissolve into the ether, leaving a palpable distance. Billy had begun to wall himself off once more, retreating from the fragile bridge of intimacy that had been tentatively constructed between you. His words echoed hollowly in the cramped space of the car.

‘Searching for shit goes so much faster if you do it together.’

The Camaro's engine roared to life, its vibrancy a stark contrast to the quiet turmoil unfolding within. Your lips pressed tightly together, trying to hold back the surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The sharp pang of regret and what-ifs punctured your heart with relentless precision. Had Billy not halted his advances, you might have found solace in his arms, seduced by the illusion of safety he offered. Alone, you might have scoffed at your own gullibility, labeling it as sheer desperation or foolishness. Yet, it was Billy's words that had resonated so deeply with you, mirroring the silent pleas that had haunted your thoughts for far too long. The desire to escape the solitude that clung to you like a second skin was overpowering. You yearned for something more, something profound to anchor you to this world, beyond the fleeting dream of liberation that the future promised. You sought a connection that bore significance, a beacon to guide you through the shadowed corridors of your existence. With the final stretch of senior year unfurling before you, the promise of college lingered on the horizon, a beacon of hope that signaled a departure from the shadows of your past. It was a chance to shed the oppressive weight of your father's legacy, to carve out a space in the world where his influence couldn't reach. You clung to this future with a desperation that was silent yet palpable, the prospect of freedom a balm to the wounds of your upbringing.

Billy, however, wasn't afforded the luxury of such dreams. The grim reality of his situation was a constant companion, a reminder that not all paths led away from hardship. College, a beacon for some, remained a distant, unattainable star for him. Influenced by the harsh criticisms that had echoed from his father's lips, he had internalized a belief in his own inadequacy. Education, a potential key to unlocking doors to a brighter future, held little allure for someone who had been taught to expect nothing from life. Instead, Billy had embraced a different kind of dream—a painstaking accumulation of savings with the hope of one day returning to California, to start anew on terms of his own making.

Yet, a shadow lurked in the recesses of his mind, a specter of doubt that cast long, dark silhouettes across his aspirations. On some days, it was but a whisper, easily ignored. On others, it roared to life, a cruel reminder that perhaps his dreams were just that—figments of wishful thinking, doomed to remain unfulfilled.

The journey to your trailer park passed in silence, each lost in their own reverie. As Billy's car rolled to a halt, you murmured a terse ‘bye’ and exited, the finality of the gesture marking the end of an era. Retrieving your spare key from its hiding spot beneath an empty vase, you slipped inside, intent on changing clothes and gathering your belongings. You assumed Billy would have driven off by then, his presence a chapter closed as abruptly as it had opened.

However, upon emerging from your room, you found him rooted in place in the heart of your kitchen, his gaze transfixed by something beyond the window. The sight of him, so unexpectedly still and contemplative, caught you off guard. In that moment, the kitchen—a space so familiar and yet suddenly imbued with a new, unspoken significance—became a silent witness to the complexities of connection and the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, some dreams refuse to be confined by the shadows that chase them. In the fading light of the afternoon, the question hung in the air, heavy and unexpected, "Doesn't that one drug dealer live around here?" It was an innocuous inquiry, perhaps, but in the context of your shared silence, it felt charged with an undercurrent of concern.

Billy's presence, both imposing and unexpectedly comforting, loomed beside you, a steadfast figure in the shifting sands of your tumultuous life. Your voice, laced with a hint of surprise at its own firmness, broke the stillness. "Why are you still here?" The question was more than just words; it was an expression of the myriad emotions swirling within you, a mix of confusion, desperation, and a fragile glimmer of hope.

He seemed taken aback, as if your tone had shattered an invisible barrier between you. The moment stretched, filled with an unspoken tension that danced in the air, palpable yet elusive. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a warmth, a promise, "I thought I had made myself clear, Sweetheart. I'm not gonna put you up to that shit alone anymore." His words, sincere and unwavering, offered a beacon of solidarity in the chaos that had become your existence.

You found yourself at a crossroads, teetering between skepticism and the yearning to believe in the possibility of an ally. It was a delicate balance, the choice to trust, to lean into the uncertainty rather than retreat into the familiar embrace of solitude. With a quiet resolve, you chose hope over despair. "Let's get out of here," you agreed, stepping into a future uncertain yet suddenly less daunting with Billy by your side.

The journey to Hawkins High was a study in contrasts, the roar of Billy's Camaro slicing through the quiet streets, a herald of change. Anxiety gnawed at you, the prospect of walking into school with Billy Hargrove by your side—a notion so fraught with implications, real and imagined. His presence was a double-edged sword, offering protection yet drawing attention, the weight of countless eyes a tangible pressure against your skin.

Yet, as you emerged from the car, Billy's protective aura enveloped you, his glares warding off the curious and the judgmental alike. He became your shield, a guardian against the world's harsh judgments, his reluctance to leave your side a testament to a burgeoning bond, forged in adversity and softened in moments of shared vulnerability.

The day passed in a blur, the rhythm of school life punctuated by Billy's steadfast companionship, a promise kept. And when the final bell rang, it was his car that awaited, Max in the backseat, a silent acknowledgment of the shifting dynamics of your intertwined lives.

The drive home was a brief interlude, a moment of calm before the next chapter. Billy's insistence on ensuring your safety, his promise to meet at the Hawkins Community Pool, was a new thread in the tapestry of your unfolding story.

…

The pool, a place of childhood traumas and lost innocence, loomed large in your memories. Yet, as you drove towards it, the realization that Billy had carved out a space for himself there, as a lifeguard, offered a glimpse into his own attempts at navigating life's turbulent waters. The parking lot was deserted, save for the familiar silhouette of Billy's Camaro. The unlocked gate stood as an invitation, a threshold to cross into a space that was both familiar and fraught with the echoes of past fears.

Yet, in this moment, it was not the specter of childhood bullies that filled your thoughts but the prospect of standing beside Billy in this quiet, abandoned sanctuary. It was an opportunity to redefine the spaces that had once defined you, to reclaim a piece of yourself in the company of someone who was, against all odds, becoming an integral part of your journey. As you navigated through the dimly lit gates, the air hung heavy with the anticipation of the evening. Your voice, laced with a mix of irritation and playful defiance, cut through the quiet, "Billy?" The words fell into the silence, unanswered, as you moved deeper into the shadowy expanse of the pool area. The setting sun cast a soft, yellowish hue over everything, the lights around the pool flickering to life in a welcoming yet eerie glow.

Again, you called out, a whisper tinged with exasperation. "Billy?" It seemed ridiculous, this cat-and-mouse game, and yet, there was a part of you that couldn't deny the thrill of the chase. Your footsteps echoed against the concrete as you approached the locker rooms, the sound a solitary reminder of your presence in the vast, empty space. With a mix of annoyance and determination, you halted, the frustration evident in your voice as you threatened the unseen presence of Billy Hargrove with playful retribution. “Billy Hargrove, you had better get your butt out here now, or imma kick it when I see it.” No sooner had the words left your lips than you found yourself abruptly pulled backward, a gasp escaping you as you collided with a solid, reassuringly warm chest.

"Damn, Sweetheart," came Billy's hushed voice, a smile evident in its timbre, sending shivers down your spine. "Didn’t know you would be so violent."

The annoyance you felt dissolved into an electrifying tension as you turned within his grasp, your gaze lifting to meet his. The grin adorning his face was infectious, his fingers gently brushing away a stray lock of hair from your forehead with an intimacy that set your heart racing. There he was, inches away, the warmth of his breath caressing your cheek in the cool air of the locker room. The proximity was intoxicating, a mere tilt of your head away from a kiss that seemed both inevitable and yet delicately suspended in the space between you.

You stood there, caught in his gaze, the world outside the locker room melting away. The anticipation was palpable, a tangible force that seemed to draw you closer without moving. It was a dance of moments and possibilities, each second stretching out as you waited for him to bridge the final distance.

In the soft, flickering light, the realization dawned on you how swiftly and completely Billy Hargrove had ensnared you, his presence alone enough to tilt your world off its axis. And there, in the silence that enveloped you both, you wondered if he too felt the gravity of this moment, this turning point that seemed poised to redefine everything. His hand, a warm presence against your skin, retreated, leaving a cool trail of longing in its wake. As he stepped back, the absence of his touch was immediate and stark, a silent protest forming in the back of your mind, yearning for the connection you were on the cusp of deepening. You watched him, a mix of emotions swirling within you. The situation had spiraled into a realm of the ridiculous—a term that barely scratched the surface of this intricate dance you both found yourselves entangled in.

"What are we doing here, Billy? It's still way too cold to go swimming." Your voice carried a hint of bewilderment, laced with a curiosity that refused to be quelled.

His response came with that signature grin, a look that promised mischief and excitement in equal measure. "Who said anything about hopping into the pool, Sweetheart?" The question hung between you, playful and inviting. As he pulled you along, a sense of adventure bubbled within you, despite the confusion that furrowed your brow.

The sauna loomed ahead, a promise of warmth and perhaps something more—an intimacy yet explored. Billy's excitement was palpable, his enthusiasm for the job and its perks infectious. "Since I'm going to be working here, I thought I'd show you what kind of privileges you could have over the summer."

"Privileges I could have?" The concept seemed foreign, amusing even. A sauna, of all things, wasn't exactly on your list of desired amenities. The skepticism must have been clear upon your face as you questioned the appeal, the idea of sweating in a small room hardly enticing.

"You'll see what I'm talking about," he assured you, his confidence unwavering.

As he opened the door to the sauna, a wave of heat greeted you, enveloping your senses in a cocoon of warmth that was surprisingly welcoming. The wood-paneled room, with its benches lining the walls and the gentle hum of heat radiating from the stones, offered a retreat from the world outside. It was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the chaos of daily life could not penetrate.

Billy's hand found yours once again, his touch grounding as he led you inside. The door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing you both in this haven of warmth and whispered promises. As you took a seat, the heat began to work its magic, loosening muscles and easing tensions you hadn't even realized you carried.

The air, thick with warmth, seemed to draw you both closer, an unspoken invitation to explore the connection that had been building between you. Here, in the seclusion of the sauna, the rest of the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in a space where time seemed to slow, where every breath and heartbeat felt magnified.

Billy's gaze met yours, a question lingering in the depth of his eyes, a silent query if you were ready to dive into the unknown together. In that moment, the sauna became more than just a room—it became a crucible for whatever was simmering between you, a place where the heat wasn't just physical but emotional, a catalyst for desires and confessions yet unspoken.

The air vibrated with anticipation, each moment stretching, filled with the promise of revelations and a closeness that went beyond the physical. In the dim light and enveloping warmth of the sauna, you realized that this wasn't just about the privileges of summer or the novelty of a new experience. It was about discovering each other, about unraveling the layers of connection that had drawn you together.

Pent-up was merely one of many ways to describe what you were feeling, with his fingers dancing beneath your shirt and withdrawing as quickly as they had come—a teasing grin on his face, making you aware that Billy knew exactly of the effect he had on you. “You’re such an asshole, you know?” You hissed, frown deepening as he pulled his shirt over his head and put it down on the bench, using it to sit on.

He chuckled lowly, hands threading through his wild locks, tongue running over the sharp edges of his teeth. “’C’mere,” he simply stated, fingers moving in a lazy motion to accompany his words. You hesitated for a second, lips catching between your teeth as you moved forward and into his grasp. “You gotta be so hot, Sweetheart,” he started, fingers already working at removing your top. “Let’s take this off, hm?”

Words vanishing from your lips, just as quick as your common sense, you nodded, letting him pull the shirt over your head. You didn’t know where it ended up, didn’t—couldn’t—care when his hands started unbuttoning your pants with swift movements. The loose article of clothing fell from your form and Billy’s hands instantly went forward, grasping your thighs and pulling you closer. He groaned greedily, fingers digging deeper into your flesh as he nosed along your stomach and the line of your panties. There was an incessant fluttering in your stomach as his tongue slowly slid from your naval lower.

“Billy,” you breathed, eyes fluttering shot, as his teeth pulled on the fabric of your panties, your hands falling to his broad shoulders.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” He mused, fingers sliding to the sides of your panties, before hooking his thumbs in the cotton. Flashing a grin up to your dizzy frame, he started pulling the fabric down your legs. “S’there something you wanna ask me, baby?” You shook your head in answer, swallowing heavily as you felt the cotton drop at your feet. “Had me so hard the whole day,” he groaned, pressing a sudden kiss to your core and you went rigid in anticipation. Heat gathered low in your stomach, down to your unsatisfied center.

“Kept thinking ‘bout pulling you into the locker room and fucking you stupid.” At the moan that tumbled from your throat, a dark chuckle fell from his lips. “Yeah, you’d have liked that, Sweetheart, ain’t that right?”

You whispered again, “Billy,” you tone edged with want.

“Hm?” He hummed, raising a casual brow at you as though his fingers weren’t trailing along the seams of your core. Even if he seemed utterly unaffected by the moment, you noticed the slight shift in his hips, as he adjusted himself. You forced yourself to swallow, eyes straying to the hardening bulge in his tight jeans. So terribly affected by only the thought of him, another rush of heat slithered to the pit of your stomach and lower. “C’mere here,” Billy said again, leading you onto his thigh with a quiet wickedness that set your chest aflame. He chuckled at your hesitance as you slowly settled on his thigh, the pressure against your core immediately pulling a whimper from you. His rough hand slid back to your hips, gripping tightly as the other one found your neck and brought your lips to his.

Sweat was leisurely building at the nape of your neck, a result of not only the sauna’s heat but Billy’s unhinged action, as he started to move you on his thigh. You nestled your head into the crook of his neck with a low moan, desire overshadowing your humiliation as you started to follow the pressure of his hand. Your head was starting to float with pleasure when Billy lifted his leg a little, the rough material of his jeans hitting your small bundle of nerves. A whimper slipped from your lips and onto Billy’s glistening skin. His thigh beneath your core felt so thick and sturdy, as he was whispering words so terribly vile they shook your being. One of his palms snapped harshly against the bared skin of your ass, the slap echoing in the small confinement of the sauna.

“Look at you,” Billy cooed, moving you back on his thigh before he jerked you back forward, your chest flush again his as he held you still. “Making such a mess for me, Sweetheart.” With a particularly hard grin of your hips, you felt his bulge pressing into the side of your thigh, straining beneath the blue fabric of his jeans. You whimpered at the feeling, the graze pushing a low groan from Billy’s reddened lips. Trying to move again against his thigh, his arm gripped you closer against him, a broad grin flashing at the needy whine that came from you in response. “Tell me what you need, Sweetheart,” he hushed in such a sinister tone, the devil couldn’t have said it any sweeter.

“You,” you said with no second of hesitation. It wasn’t just an admission of the desire lingering in your core, but a promise of not wanting to fight the world alone anymore. You had done it long enough, both of you.

#billy hargove smut #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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wobblebees · 10 months ago

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MAD RAT MONDAY: The Complete Music Mod

This complete Mad Rat Dead mod includes 40 tracks from @chongoblog's Mad Rat Monday and Mad Rat Eternity remix albums, replacing the entire soundtrack to the base game, and 5 songs from update 1.0.2.

Note: Version 1.0.2 of Mad Rat Dead is not necessary to play the mod, but is recommended, as there are DLC tracks that were also included in this mod. You may have to install this update separately if your version is out of date.

Try it out here!

Playable on Ryujinx or Yuzu emulator

#mad rat dead #mrd #mad rat monday

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estellan0vella · 6 months ago

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My Love, My Life ❀ includes: Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji, Yuta, Megumi, Yuji & Toge (REQUESTED) Part 2 to this

On the third day of his relentless wait, as dawn begins to break and the first rays of sunlight filter through the window, something shifts. Gojo, eyes closed but not asleep, feels a faint squeeze around his fingers. His eyes snap open, his heart pounding as he looks down at your hand, still entwined with his.

"Is it...?" he whispers, hope and fear battling within him.

Then he sees it—a flicker of movement, your eyelids fluttering as if fighting to open. He leans forward, his breath catching in his throat. "Come on," he murmurs, his voice trembling. "You can do it."

Slowly, agonizingly, your eyes open. They are unfocused at first, searching the room, but when they land on him, a spark of recognition flickers in your gaze. Tears of relief fill Gojo's eyes, and he squeezes your hand gently, afraid to let go.

"Hey," he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. "Welcome back."

Your lips part, and though it takes immense effort, you manage to speak, your voice weak. "'Toru..."

Hearing your voice again is like a miracle. He chokes back a sob, nodding fervently. "I'm here," he assures you, his grip on your hand tightening. "I'm right here. You're going to be okay."

Tears of relief and joy mix with the lingering fear as he watches you slowly come back to life. The strongest sorcerer in the world, once feeling helpless, now clings to the hope that you will recover. Your eyes meet his, and in that moment, despite the pain and the tubes and wires, there is a connection, a promise of healing and love.

"I love you," he whispers, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "And I'll never leave your side."

You manage a faint smile, your strength returning with each passing second. "I love you too," you reply, your voice a fragile whisper but filled with the same unwavering emotion.

Days pass like an eternity in the sterile hospital room, each moment weighted with uncertainty and longing. Nanami Kento remains steadfast by your bedside, his vigil unbroken despite the exhaustion etched into every line of his face. The steady rhythm of the monitors becomes a monotonous soundtrack to his thoughts, a constant reminder of your fragile state.

Then, as if a miracle whispered through the hushed corridors, there's a subtle shift in the air. Nanami's breath catches as he notices the faint flutter of your eyelids, a sign so small yet significant in the vast expanse of the room. His heart pounds against his chest, hope and fear waging war within him.

"Ken..." Your voice is barely a whisper, but it echoes through the room like a symphony to his ears. His head snaps up, disbelief and relief flooding his features as he meets your gaze, those eyes that he feared he might never see again.

"I'm here," he breathes, his voice thick with emotion as he reaches for your hand, gripping it tightly as if afraid you might slip away again. "I've been here."

You struggle to sit up, weak from your ordeal, but determination shines in your eyes. Nanami moves to help you, offering his unwavering support as you find your strength. Tears glisten in his eyes as he watches you, a mixture of overwhelming joy and profound gratitude swelling in his heart.

"I thought I lost you," he confesses, his voice trembling with emotion. "I couldn't bear the thought of facing this world without you."

You reach out, your fingers brushing against his cheek, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the reality of this moment. "I'm here, Ken," you assure him, your voice a gentle melody that soothes his soul. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Days blur into nights, each passing moment weighted with the unbearable anticipation of Sukuna Ryomen. He sits vigil by the hospital bed, his presence a constant shadow in the sterile room. The machines continue their ceaseless symphony, but he hears only the echo of his own heart, pounding against the confines of his chest.

Then, like a whisper in the darkness, there is movement. A flutter of eyelids, a faint twitch of fingers. Sukuna's hand reaches out instinctively, trembling as it hovers over the figure lying before him.

"Hey," he whispers. "Can you hear me?"

And then, as if in response to his desperate plea, their eyes flutter open, the once vacant gaze now alive with recognition. A faint smile tugs at the corners of their lips, a beacon of hope in the sea of uncertainty.

"'Kuna..." they murmur, their voice fragile but filled with a strength that defies comprehension.

Relief floods through him like a tidal wave, washing away the shadows of doubt and fear. He grasps their hand tightly, as if afraid they might slip away again if he lets go.

"You're awake," he breathes, his voice trembling with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you."

But they shake their head, a faint chuckle escaping their lips. "You could never lose me," they whisper, their words a promise wrapped in a vow of eternity.

Four days pass like an eternity in the confines of the hospital room. Toji sits by the hospital bed, his presence a silent plea for his partner to return to him. Every moment feels like an eternity, each beat of their heart a victory against the looming specter of death.

Then, one morning, as the rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, a flutter of eyelids breaks the stillness. Toji's breath catches in his throat as he watches, disbelief warring with hope in his chest. Their eyelashes brush against their cheeks, a faint sign of life returning to their fragile form.

"Toji?" a voice, weak and hoarse, but unmistakably theirs, breaks the silence.

Tears of relief blur Toji's vision as he leans closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "You're awake."

A faint smile tugs at their lips, a flicker of recognition in their eyes. "What happened?" they ask, their voice barely more than a whisper.

Toji takes their hand in his, his grip tight with reassurance. "You were hurt," he explains, his voice trembling with the weight of the words. "But you're going to be okay now."

Their eyes search his face, finding solace in the depths of his gaze. "I'm sorry," they whisper, their voice laced with regret.

Toji shakes his head, brushing a strand of hair from their forehead. "Don't apologize," he says firmly. "Just focus on getting better."

The room is bathed in the soft glow of morning light, a welcome change from the harsh fluorescence of the hospital's overhead fixtures. Yuta sits in the same chair beside your bed, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but filled with a glimmer of hope. He hasn't left your side since that fateful day, his presence a silent vigil against the encroaching darkness.

As if in response to his unwavering devotion, your eyelids flutter open, revealing tired but unmistakably alive eyes. Yuta's heart leaps in his chest, relief flooding every fiber of his being.

"Hey," he breathes, his voice laced with equal parts disbelief and joy. "Hey there angel"

You blink, the haze of unconsciousness slowly dissipating as you take in your surroundings. Your gaze lands on Yuta, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Yuta," you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm... I'm okay."

Tears well up in Yuta's eyes as he reaches out to grasp your hand, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"You scared me," he admits, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I thought... I thought I had lost you."

You squeeze his hand gently, a silent reassurance that you're still here, that you're not going anywhere. In that moment, surrounded by the beeping of machines and the scent of antiseptic, you both know that you've been given a second chance—a chance to heal, to love, and to cherish every moment together.

Only allowing himself to be dragged away to eat or wash, Megumi maintains his vigil by your bedside, his devotion unwavering even as exhaustion threatens to consume him. And then, like a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness, there's a subtle shift in the air. His hand still clasped in yours, he feels a faint pressure, a response so slight it could be mistaken for imagination.

His heart leaps in his chest as he lifts his head, his eyes searching your face for any sign of consciousness. And there it is, a flutter of eyelashes, a twitch of your lips. His breath catches in his throat, tears springing to his eyes as he watches you slowly awaken from the depths of unconsciousness.

"Hey," he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. "Can you hear me?" His fingers tighten around yours, seeking reassurance in the warmth of your touch.

Your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused at first before recognition dawns in them. A weak smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you squeeze his hand in return, a silent reassurance that you're still here, still fighting.

Relief floods through Megumi, overwhelming him as he leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "Thank god," he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you."

Several days pass, each one stretching out like an eternity for Yuji Itadori as he maintains his vigil by your side. But then, as the morning light filters through the curtains, a subtle change ripples through the stillness of the hospital room. A flutter of eyelashes, a faint twitch of fingers—signs so small, yet they stir Yuji from his restless sleep.

His eyes snap open, heart pounding wildly in his chest as he gazes at you, scarcely daring to believe what he's seeing. Your eyelids flutter, and then slowly, so achingly slowly, they lift, revealing eyes clouded with confusion and pain, but undeniably awake.

"Hey," Yuji's voice cracks with emotion, relief flooding through him like a tidal wave. "You're awake." His hand, which had never left yours, tightens its grip, as if anchoring you to this moment, this reality.

You blink slowly, trying to focus, to make sense of the world around you. The room feels foreign, the beeping of the monitors unfamiliar, but there's something undeniably comforting about Yuji's presence beside you.

With effort, you manage a faint smile, a glimmer of recognition in your eyes as you turn to meet his gaze. "Yuji," you whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse, but music to his ears.

Tears blur Yuji's vision as he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his relief and joy overflowing. "I'm here," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm right here, and I'm never leaving your side again."

Days blur into nights, each moment weighted with uncertainty as Toge remains steadfast by his partner's side. Then, one hazy morning, a subtle change ripples through the stillness of the room. His partner stirs, eyelids fluttering open like delicate petals unfurling to the dawn.

Toge's heart leaps, a tumultuous mix of relief and apprehension flooding his senses. He watches with bated breath as their gaze flickers around the room, finally settling on him. For a moment, their eyes lock, and in that fleeting exchange, volumes of unspoken words pass between them.

Slowly, their lips part, and Toge's name escapes in a hoarse whisper, like a fragile melody breaking the silence. Tears well in his eyes, but this time, they're tears of joy, of hope rekindled from the brink of despair.

He leans closer, his hand reaching out to brush against their cheek, trembling with anticipation. And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he speaks the words he's longed to say, throwing all caution to the wind to speak to his partner.

"I'm here... I love you."

Their eyes glisten with recognition, with understanding, as if they too have been waiting for this moment. And in that instant, the weight that has burdened Toge's heart begins to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of hope, of renewal.

@mangiswig

I have spent all day cooking and I'm cooking good

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader #megumi x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #itadori x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta x reader #inumaki toge x reader #toge x reader #jjk smau

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0strawberrysorbet0 · 8 months ago

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𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟..

𝐿𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑟 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

Currently writing this at 2am (so it's gonna be shit probs) while listening to the Sweeney Todd soundtrack so this is HEAVILY based on 'Ah, Miss', enjoy!!

Please do not use/steal my work on this site or any other! Reblogs and likes are appreciated greatly!!

Summary: Lucifer spots a gorgeous person singing at one of the windows in the Vees tower and is enamored. He will steal you.

Warnings: Yandere-ish??, No Y/N usage, not many other things, my shitty writing, no uses of gender (not really a warning but whatever)

Lucifer had seen every corner and crack of both hell and heaven, he had seen the world form and had helped in creating the creatures and earth, he had seen the beauties of earth and the heavens. But never the beauties of the people.

After all, he was punished with ruling hell for all eternity, so he only saw the worst in people, so it's quite apparent that he did not like sinners. Well until he saw a stunning sinner staring longingly out of a window.

A window of the Vees tower. He didn't care for the Vees, they were below him after all but they had you? Suddenly the Vees tower was the most gorgeous building to stare at, especially a particular window

They were... Singing? A beautiful melody floated down from the window to the cracked pavement. He couldn't even hear the lyrics but was enamoured... He hadn't heard such a beautiful voice since Lilith. Yours might even be better. He stood standing, head fully tilted to see the figure who was releasing the tune.

"Look at me, favour me with your glance" he muttered under his breath, a toothy smile spread across his pale face. The sinner looked sad?.. He wanted nothing more to be able to hold them, the complete stranger.

It had been a few weeks since he first saw you but he kept coming back, he had made himself a bench as he sat and listened to the warm song he could hear, singing about wanting out.

If only you noticed him, he'd have you out with a blink. As he continued to listen to the melody he sat carving a duck of you as he watched you sing, stroking a bird that sat in a cage next to you.

He had been staring for a bit now, forgetting about the sinners near him, the ones bleeding out near him, the ones doing worse. They didn't matter. Not when a gorgeous person like you was up there.

How he wished he was with you.

As he stared you glanced at him, turning then taking a second glance, your hand giving a small wave. A slight smile across their plush lips.

He was sure if he was alive his heart would've stopped, the blood rushed to his face as he sat like a deer in headlights, how embarrassing...

As he finally snapped out of it you had turned away, dammit. His 𝘰𝘯𝘦 chance. It didn't matter. He could easily get you out of their. He was 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 afterall.

Don't worry. He'd steal you.

#hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #reader #y/n #singer!reader #singer #sweeney todd #the vees #hazbin hotel vees

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perfectlyoongi · 1 month ago

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HAPPY HALLOWEEN—FROM BTS ⠀⠀summary: there are countless ways to celebrate this holiday, but only BTS knew how to make it special.

⪩ pairing: bts (separately) x gn!reader. ⪩ genre: headcanons, fluff. establish-relationship. ⪩ word count: 3.5k total, ~500 each.

SEOKJIN 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩

Halloween has always been an enchanting time for Jin. maybe it was the bright colors of the trees, or the quicker dusk of days, but the reality is that, when autumn began, Jin was radiant, almost glowing. and when Halloween arrived it seemed like all the color in the streets and all the excitement in the houses came together inside Jin’s little heart. for him, there was no better time of the year than Halloween.

every year, when Halloween approached, Jin was quick to prepare a perfect celebration for that wonderful day. he started with food, always with food. as the end of october approached, Jin quickly found recipes online that made you smile due to their creativity. there were ghosts of ravioli, tacos that hugged food like a spider hugs its victim, hot dogs that seemed to be mummified by bread — the ideas were endless, just like Jin’s love for Halloween.

with full bellies and satisfied hearts, you and Jin cleaned the kitchen amidst singing and laughter, the soundtrack of ‘nightmare before christmas’ playing happily in your home. it had long since become a tradition of yours: cleaning the kitchen while singing. and on that special day, you had to hear something special. so, when doing duets of ‘rocky horror picture show’ or imitating plants with ‘little shop of horrors’, you and Jin cleaned the table and washed the dishes with as much joy as there was in the world. just for a few minutes the whole world seemed like a stage waiting for you two.

when the music stopped and the songs died down, when the night was about to take you to bed and snuggle up on that lively day, you and Jin sat at the living room table, each with your computer, and passed the remaining hours shouting between laughs. once when researched, it was amazing how many horror games could support two players. as such, during those ninety-so minutes, you and Jin ran away from monsters, built forts, and even mourned the other’s dramatic death. although the genre was horror, the number of laughs released by the two of you made that experience memorable and very dear to both of you — in the midst of all the chaos and terror, you knew you would always have Jin by your side, even if he had you locked away in the room with the killer.

and it was something simple, little moments that marked your Halloween. with small traditions that would always take place in your home, always in the comfort and safety of each other, you and Jin lived each Halloween with the magic and charm of Christmas: just pure happiness that culminated in eternal hours of pleasure and affection. every Halloween was an annual adventure that would forever be respected and loved by both of you.

YOONGI 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩

Yoongi wasn’t so much a fan of Halloween as he was of the fall season. there was something magical about the colorful destruction of all nature that provided Yoongi with an extreme comfort that only matched the comfort he felt when he was in your arms. as such, Yoongi wanted to make that holiday something magical.

every year, Yoongi spent endless amounts of time on the internet to prepare for the big month and holiday. the first thing Yoongi would look for was recipes for sweets and drinks with a more welcoming and nostalgic magic, making a selection of those that he knew would leave you with a smile on your lips. small colorful cookies and cakes, coffees and teas of the most varied flavors, a whole autumnal treat awaited you when you got home after a long day of work. and every year, without any exception, Yoongi would always wait for you with a bouquet of beautiful dried flowers and a smile so big on his lips you just couldn’t stop yourself from falling even more in love with him.

after having the recipes ready and the ingredients already chosen, Yoongi would look for the most nostalgic pumpkin patch in the region, making sure that its warm and bright colors were enough to make you happy. walking beside you among the pumpkins, listening to the laughter and screams of happy children, left Yoongi in a trance of pure comfort. holding hands with you, fingers intertwined to make sure you didn’t move away from him, Yoongi admired you whenever you suggested a pumpkin and he could only smile. there were no words he could say that sounded as melodious as your happiness.

back home, after preparing your drink and placing several cookies on the table, you and Yoongi carved the pumpkins while remembering childhood memories that surrounded this time. in the midst of all that confusion, among pieces of pumpkin and cookie crumbs, your living room table took on tones of serenity and refuge, covering the entire surface with the fragments of memories that that tradition of yours brought. when everything was ready and the candles were already lighting up the interior of your creations, you and Yoongi placed them at the entrance of your house and retired to the living room sofa with your hot drinks in hand, putting on a film that reflected all the magic and comfort that this season contained. more classic and films already reviewed so many times were enjoyed by the two of you for the rest of your night.

every year, wrapped in a blanket with Yoongi beside you, this special holiday was spent in the comfort of your relationship. a little of the magic of that time was carried in Yoongi’s small acts and gestures, which wrapped you in a blanket of pure happiness. Halloween for you was an important date, not because of the scares or legends, but because of Yoongi’s effort and attention — in just one day, Yoongi painted your life with pallets of the most comforting and beloved colors he could make. on just that day, only you and Yoongi existed.

HOSEOK 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩

with a smile on his lips and an extensive list of activities in his pocket, Hoseok wished every year that this time would come as soon as possible so he could celebrate with you. throughout the year, Hoseok found himself collecting little ideas for dates and activities that could cheer you up during this time. all year long, Hoseok prepared each day of the week with precision to ensure that the comfort of this month and the joy of this holiday wrapped you in a blanket of pure bliss.

among so many ideas and suggestions, Hoseok had to admit that walking with you through the park was his favorite activity. whenever the two of you stepped onto the colorful blanket of all of nature’s dreams and that crunchy sound of happiness and hope echoed your footsteps, Hoseok felt free. of course there was magic in dancing and a certain charm on stage, but there, at that moment, hand in hand with you and an immense forest of conversations and laughter in front of him, Hoseok felt dazzled. there, in that moment, with you next to him, Hoseok felt infinite.

but it wasn’t just the walks that made Hoseok happy, no. what he liked most, and what he insisted on doing every year, was spending the whole night watching movies lying down with his head on your chest. the trick here is that since your first Halloween together, Hoseok has discovered the vast world of pre-1980s horror films. it was you who introduced him to these peculiarities when you said, almost begged, that you wanted to see the 1977 film ‘house’. it only took ten minutes for Hoseok to be completely surrendered to the terrible edits and even worse scripts.

since then, your Halloween nights were spent in bed, covered with a small blanket, and completely focused on the screen. while you combed Hoseok’s hair, gently massaging his head and providing Hoseok with extreme relaxation, he just looked at the screen and let the magic of the movies steal eternal laughter from him. from ‘nosferatus’ of 1922, to ‘carnival of souls’ of 1962, going through ‘the invisible man’ of 1933, an extensive list of adventures with the worst recommendations and the most amusing reviews were preciously stored on Hoseok’s phone.

in all the Halloweens that have passed and in all those that are yet to happen, Hoseok knew that that magic only came in your company. you were the one who enchanted Hoseok’s days, and you were the one who made him feel grateful to live each day by your side. and that was enough for him. just you, a film that made you laugh, and he felt like he was in heaven.

NAMJOON 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩

on the last day of october, Namjoon had no plans. after working all day, only talking to you once in a while when time allowed, Namjoon was longing to get home and just rest. he would do anything to leave work early — perhaps because the month seemed so long, or because the days were starting to get shorter, there was no concrete answer; all Namjoon knew was that that day would only become good when he was in your company.

so, when he came home and saw you distracted in the living room reviewing those Halloween classics of yours, Namjoon would just smile: you were simply divine. without having any time to take in that heavenly sight, Namjoon was quick to crawl over to your couch and wrap you in a tight little hug that made him smile in relief. finally, there was some tranquility in that long and painful day. finally, Namjoon was with you, ready to really start living that day you loved so much.

after kissing your forehead and ordering your favorite food, Namjoon was going to take a long shower to relax before returning to the living room with dinner in his hands and two bottles of alcohol in his arms. Namjoon just wanted to decompress, he didn’t really want to do anything, but you liked that holiday, you were enchanted by the mysticism that surrounded that day — Namjoon would do everything for you to have a good night, even though he just wanted to sleep.

you ate excitedly while ‘the grim adventures of billy and mandy’ played episode after episode on your big television. that dinner, with the familiar voices of the characters, was always essential for you; whether it was Halloween or a regular tuesday, your dinners were sacred. each one listened attentively the other as their day was recounted between sighs and smiles. it was a tradition of yours that continued to fuel your flame — and, on Halloween, your conversations only got livelier: you looked stunning at this time of year. when dinner was over and all the dishes were clean, you and Namjoon were beginning the second and final part of your tradition. it was you who came up with the idea, and Namjoon was quick to accept — it was the perfect end to another long, boring day of work.

Namjoon spent brief minutes trying to find a horror film that contained all the clichés that this genre had; you would spend a few minutes creating a list of all the clichés and phrases that horror films could contain. when Namjoon finally committed to the movie, and you read the list to him out loud, you would each prepare your cup and wait patiently until something on the list happened. for long minutes, you and Namjoon played with the movie that was on the television, letting the alcohol act as a gentle blanket that protected you on that magical night. without realizing it, you end up falling asleep on the couch, involuntarily hugging each other, smiling gently with the rest of that troubled day lulling you to distant lands.

JIMIN 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩

october 31st was always a surprise for you. every year, Jimin would look for the ideal activity to celebrate Halloween with you. of course, the countless costume parties and home movie sessions were always attractive to Jimin, especially if the night was a little colder. but you deserved something better, something that wasn’t so common. Jimin knew how much you enjoyed this holiday, and as such, year after year, he always found something new to do with you. you never knew what could await you, but that was part of the adventure.

on your first Halloween, Jimin took you to a forest with a basket full of food and a backpack full of scary stories from the internet that had the forest as their backdrop. of course, just a picnic under the moon listening to ghostly stories wasn’t enough — no. with the stories also came the jokes and Jimin made sure that only the best laughs came out of you. he didn’t mind spending the whole night reading the comments to find the ideal ones to make you laugh and ease some of the tension he would create.

you also remembered that Halloween where Jimin took you to an escape room that took you to an abandoned castle where count dracula had you and Jimin trapped in his basement. even though the two of you had only spent sixty minutes inside that room, you’d swear an eternity was spent among loose rocks and squeaking rats. all your wrong theories just made you laugh until you fell on the floor; whenever an employee’s voice came up to help you, you and Jimin just pushed the blame for the mistake onto the other; when the last key took you straight to the count’s room instead of the exit, you only realized that that Jimin’s idea, although hilarious and providing you dozens of good memories, was a little too intellectual for both of you.

you also still dreamed about the magic school you and Jimin attended last year. it was something so simple, something so childish — but it was something so good, something so cozy, something that reminded you why you loved Jimin so much. potions classes were held in the school’s basement, its cauldrons bubbling and glowing different colors; the spell classes were held on the second floor next to the (human) statue that moved on its own. dinner was in the main hall, six long tables occupying the entire space and taking dozens of people to those childhood dreams. for one night, you were magical. for one night, you breathed magic.

and this year only time will tell. Jimin never gave any hint of his plans — it was pure torture. and yet you waited anxiously. maybe he would wake you up with a breakfast themed around your favorite horror movies. who knows, Jimin could even take you to build a scarecrow to put in front of your house. or Jimin could simply decide to stay in the comfort of your house, in the comfort of your arms, rewatching films and series that had a more ghostly atmosphere. no one knows for sure, only Jimin, and that is a secret that he will only reveal tomorrow.

TAEHYUNG 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩

every year, Taehyung prayed that on Halloween there would be no rain. he didn’t mind the cold, and a little wind didn’t make him mad; but if that day the heavens decided to mourn all the destruction of the world, Taehyung’s day would be ruined. it’s just that, on this specific day, where autumn was beginning and all of nature colored the streets with its farewell, Taehyung only had a single activity in mind. october 31st marked the anniversary of your first encounter and your first date and, devoted to your love, Taehyung insisted on scheduling a picnic just like you did so long ago.

preparing the whole morning for that date, Taehyung spent hours cooking or buying that food that warmed your heart, putting out books, notebooks, pens, everything that could be used to entertain you for an entire afternoon. so, with a small, orange blanket, a basket with all your favorite food and drinks, Taehyung was setting up a small picnic in the park where you first met, near that lake that saw your love blossom on that first date. and he tried his best to make that picnic always better than the last.

sometimes Taehyung liked to recite poetry to you while you rested your head in his lap. there were other times when he preferred to spend the afternoon listening to your stories, delighting in the little laughs you made and falling in love with your soul again. there were also times when the simple silence of nature was enough to lull both of you into the autumnal comfort characteristic of your relationship. honestly, Taehyung didn’t even care much about how you spent those little picnic hours; all Taehyung wanted was to relive those two magical days that completely changed his life. just you, the park and the blanket — nothing else mattered.

when night fell and the cold became a little more aggressive, you returned home while ordering your favorite food from that restaurant he took you to before asking you to be his partner. and that trip back home felt like the arrival of autumn itself: desired, coveted, awaited for too long to be unable to contain you enthusiasm. that dinner on your living room floor, that little tradition that came from so many past dates, was all you two thought about when the moon peeked out of the dark sky.

the day came to an end without any stress or problems — Taehyung made sure of that. there was nothing that could happen that he could not resolve, or omit until the next day arrived. october 31st was the only day when nothing could happen. october 31st was the only day that really mattered. and it was on october 31st that Taehyung declared his eternal love to you again in the memories of a glorious past with promises of a sublime future.

JUNGKOOK 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩

Jungkook loved celebrating Halloween. he couldn’t say why or what captivated him about that holiday, he just knew that when october arrived, he was counting the days, eager to reach the end of the month. as such, it was quite natural for Jungkook to have all the plans for this season laid out since the beginning of the year. and every year, without fail, among so many different activities and occupations, there were always those three traditions of yours that warmed Jungkook’s heart like a summer sun.

on the orange afternoons of the last day of the month, Jungkook would appear at the front door with a wide smile on his lips and white sheets in his arms. holding your hand gently and taking you to the park near your house, Jungkook liked to spend autumn afternoons taking photos alluding to Halloween. with sheets dressed and glasses on, you and Jungkook impersonated two ghosts who marveled at the modern world. camera rolls were spent amid laughter and poses, the withered time of those afternoons seeming warmer among your good mood.

when you returned home reviewing some photos and choosing the ones to print for your Halloween album, Jungkook could only think about what awaited you that night. his excitement was too much to contain — he was always looking forward to spending Halloween with you. so, after putting the sheets at home and making a quick dinner, your night would begin with scares and lots of screams.

Jungkook knew all the activities that would happen throughout the city and he deliberately chose the best horror houses that would have open hours. waiting in the entrance lines seemed like mere seconds. you and Jungkook had this power to convert time to your needs; your conversations flowed naturally, laughter clearing your mind before facing the manufactured horrors of the house you would visit. you walked carefully around the house, anticipating scares that would never happen and screaming at small noises designed to scare you. every year, you walked through a haunted house hand in hand and hearts jumping, always leaving with your hearts filled with laughter.

already tired from a day full of surprises and scares, you and Jungkook went to your room to finally rest. but since the night doesn’t end until dawn, you two weren’t going to sleep so early. Jungkook would play the playlist he made for Halloween gently in your room, while he waited for you to bring the box of face paint. and to satisfy your inner children and end that day on a more docile note, you and Jungkook painted yourselves as classic characters from Halloween; but it wasn’t that easy, no. one of you was always blindfolded, proving that you knew the other’s features perfectly as white brushes and red pencils danced in your shaking hands and made light laughter mix with the music, creating a melody of pure devotion in your room.

໒ ࣪˖˚ requested by: dear anonymous. ⠀⠀request: hihi!! if u celebrate and ur comfortable and everything, can i request hcs for celebrating halloween w them? any member(s) work(s), idm at all. thank u for ur time 🙏🏽 i love ur work so much, keep being fantastical 🔥🔥🔥 ⠀⠀cole's note: hii <3 tysm for the request !! i decided to include all the members so i did a shorter version but i hope it still makes you happy <3 i just wanted to make sure i give u the absolute best. also ty for ur words :< ilysm /p and i hope u know u have a wonderful soul !!

♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

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alllgator-blood · 1 month ago

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hymns of the unholy drops tomorrow, I'm gonna make a track tier list but here's my initial thoughts before it comes out:

This feels worthy of a "read more" just because there's no pictures to look at and it's four paragraphs. TL;DR the album is very cheesy but I'm literally so excited I'm gonna stay up all night so I can listen to the new album the second it drops. The overly critical part of my brain is telling me I shouldn't derive enjoyment from this album unironically but I'm not gonna obey, I am cringe and free and I'm gonna crank this shit with no shame cause it's the game I like...IN MUSIC FORm

[gif meant to represent me randomly busting it down leshy style when I'm home alone, and singing "THE END AWAITS AS THE OLD FAITH TAKES THE LAST OF MY KIIIIINDDDD" over and over]

The lamb's song was kickass and if I heard it in the wild without knowing there was a metal album for this game, I'd spontaneously combust from sheer excitement. It's instantly recognizable and that's kinda all I wanted from it tbh! I've mentioned before that I'm way more of a djent/shoegaze/sludge fan when it comes to metal rather than the genre these songs have been, but I'm literally so excited the bishops are getting some kind of inclusion in a project that I'm gonna crank this album even if it reminds me of the shadow the hedgehog game soundtrack. Tbh this one is so solid that if they JUST announced this one and didn't make the others, I'd still think it'd stand alone quite well for what it is! Edit: I said I'm cringe and free, why did I spend half this section dunking on the genre.....

Leshy's song..........was totally lame but in an epic way, like the first time I listened to it I thought it was fine! But when I actually read the lyrics I had tears streaming down my face from laughter. I screamed out loud when the guy basically says "btw my name is leshy :)", the lyrics are actually so fucking bad. But c'mon it's LESHY he's the littlest brother, if anyone got a corny ass song it should really be him. The shredding solo at the end is fucking hilarious and if he was in charge of his own song, he 10000% would request that specific ending. Musically, this one sounds the least like the source material so far but it's got that arpeggio from his + amdusias' theme and that's arguably the most iconic part. Also, "DAYLIGHT WILL COME UNDONE AS WE ECLIPSE THE SUN" is insane and is the best part besides describing his blindness as "ETERNAL NIGHTFALL"

Heket's song...........It has my favorite lyrics so far but the vocal work after the 40 second mark had to grow on me. I can't describe it but it sounds like that post grunge style and as a grunge fan, post grunge is my biggest opp in the music world. I was hoping they'd get a female singer for this but for heket specifically I can understand why they didn't. The actual lyrics in the song are fuckin badass, when it gets to the "MAKE YOUR PEACE, CREATURE" part I always turn it up to a deafening volume because it goes BALLISTIC. Genuinely my favorite part of any of these songs so far. I adore that her characterization in this song is layered and isn't just "I'm leshy, I'm made of plants or something and also I'm gonna kill you", it goes through her arc PERFECTLY imo!! Instrumentals in this one are better than the leshy song as well, I really like that they brought back the pitch bending/choppy sampling from the ost for this one

I'm on my hands and knees begging for the shamura song to be good, the leshy song had me worried but they came in clutch for heket. If they don't work in shamura's iconic lines from the game, I'm gonna cry inside I think- I'll forgive a lame kallamar song but ONLY if it's funny. Narinder's theme is gonna be hard to fuck up imo I have faith it'll be top tier

#river rambles #I have a lot of leshy gifs

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floweycidal · 1 month ago

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i've been listening to "it's raining somewhere else" for the past two hours

funny how music works sometimes. at first, it was just another track in the game's soundtrack. pleasant. melancholic. the kind of thing you might hear in an elevator, if elevators played jazz that made you feel things you couldn't quite name.

but then you sit with it. you reaaally sit with it. and you start to realize it's telling you something.

the underground is a strange place when you think about it. what they have isn't really weather– it's more like... echoes of it. mechanical approximations. magical imitations. whatever you want to call it, it's not quite real. at least, to me, it’s not.

waterfall's got its eternal drips, probably just groundwater finding paths through stone the way it always has, i dunno. and snowdin... somehow frozen in a permanent winter that can't possibly be natural. magic, maybe. or something else entirely.

either way, it's all just a stand-in. a photograph of weather, caught in time and played on repeat. unchanging. nature turned into routine.

and maybe that's the whole point.

yes, the underground’s a prison. no point pretending it isn't. but you know what else it is? it's tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.

you wake up, and papyrus is out there somewhere, recalibrating his puzzles. the regulars at grillby's have worn their own shapes into their seats. even those echo flowers keep whispering the same conversations, like they're stuck in a loop they're too comfortable to break. it’s consistent. reliable.

the song plays at mtt resort, right when sans brings up the surface.

and then you get it. why it's called that.

because up there.. it's raining. really raining. maybe not right here, maybe not right now, but somewhere. it's always raining somewhere. and rain... rain means things change. rain means the open sky decides to rewrite your plans. rain means sometimes everything you built just... washes away. no warning. no apology. just change.

down here though? down here you've got what you need. friends who know your worst jokes. food that never surprises you. a small purpose, perhaps, but hey– it's yours. a place where you belong, even if it's not exactly where you'd choose to be. it's limited, but at least you know the limits.

and i think that's what the song is trying to tell us. every soft note, every gentle melody– it's sans sitting there at that restaurant table, trying to warn you in the only way he knows how.

is it worth it? is it worth leaving the underground if it’s only to be greeted by nothing but rain? sometimes the cage you know is kinder than the freedom you don't.

it never truly rains in the underground. never has, never will. but somewhere else? somewhere above all this weight monsters call home?

it rains. it pours and it pours. and once you step into that rain, you can never really come back to being dry.

#undertale #sans undertale #undertale sans #sans #papyrus #undertale ost #undertale soundtrack #i'm sure there are other interpretations to this... I Just. Prefer this one? i guess #i love sans so much #i get him he gets me we get each other #i've been obsessively listening to the soundtrack trying to pin down my absolute favorite track #but it's proving impossible #they're all too good!#AAAAA i'll get to the bottom of this i promise

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hyunjinspark · 1 year ago

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star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 17

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned.

word count: 31K

warnings: cursing, drinking, heavy angst, mutual pining, sexual tension, kissing, mature language, making out, jealousy, references to injuries, unrequited love, fighting, arguments and confrontations, hyunjin is mean, mentions of weed, post-breakup behaviour, passing mention of threats, a guy makes yn feel physically uncomfortable

a/n: most of this chapter contains heavy angst, yn is thinking about hyunjin 90% of the time, and it's a very different pacing from usual, but i enjoyed writing this a lot :) i hope you love it too! please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

The romantic movies you’d watched growing up always skipped over the hard parts.

The break-ups in them were just a short montage set to the soundtrack of a sad song. The main female character would have given up all hope, drowning her feelings in ice-cream and wine, and just when she hit rock bottom... somehow the boy would find a way back to her. The audience would cheer even though it was so predictable, and the credits would roll. All the sadness would be overshadowed by a firework-worthy reunion kiss, and a stupid Happily Ever After.

If only your life right now could pass by like a montage. If only you could hit fast-forward, and skip to the day you feel better.

You were never much into Greek mythology, but you had read Percy Jackson in middle school, and the myth of Sisyphus always stuck to you. He was condemned to roll a rock up a mountain for eternity, but the rock would roll back down to the bottom every single time. It was a cruel punishment because he could never achieve his goal.

Forgetting Hyunjin was a Sisyphean task. It was futile, in every way. On most days, it almost felt impossible. You could always try, and push yourself really hard, but he would always be there at the bottom of the canyon. Homereminded you of him, of all the good times there — bumping into him at Aera’s, plunging into freezing water with him at the creek, kissing him in the meadow of the fireflies, sloppy and wet but enchanting. And so did this city. The lights of the skyscrapers, the culture, the fashion, they all screamed his name. It didn’t help that his pictures were plastered all over every big billboard, every bus stop shelter, each subway station. Perhaps to forget him, you’d have to run away to a remote cabin, somewhere in Europe, where you could paint your life away and never look back. Yet wouldn’t that be useless too? Everything beautiful in your life would be forever linked to him.

“What are you thinking of so deeply, Y/N?” A voice pulled you out of your sad tangent. You’d been sketching in your notebook, mindlessly doodling, drawing circles and squares.

Jeonghan was slumped in the chair opposite yours, his own sketchbook balanced on his knees, but he hadn’t drawn for an hour now. He was too busy listening to a podcast on those big headphones he never let go of. Minnie was supposed to join you today, but she was running late from a date with Jamie, so for now it was just you and him. There was so much noise around you, a constant buzz and chatter of people in the coffee shop, so you raised your voice to be heard, “I’m thinking of…how romance movies are all bullshit”

His eyebrows shot up, and he sat up straighter, clearly not expecting that. You suppose it was a bit random, “I’m sorry?”

Now that you’d brought it up, you had to explain it, and you struggled to find the words, “They’re all such cookie-cutter depictions of romance. The same formula every time. You don’t think so?”

His eyes narrowed, suspiciously, “Well, who broke your heart?”

You shut your sketchbook with a snap, “Nobody. I’m just talking”

“Clearly you think I’m stupider than I actually am” He pulled a hand up, and started counting on his fingers, “You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, you’re only painting of blue and depressing things, you…didn’t even laugh at a single joke of mine in class today”

“Maybe because they aren’t funny”

“And you now think romantic movies suck. That’s the telltale signs of a breakup”

“I’ve always thought they suck… That doesn’t mean anything”

“Okay” He laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “How about the fact that you all but ran out of Pegasus and went white as a ghost when you saw that guy in the elevator?”

You stilled, staring at him. It’s been days since that incident, but he’s never brought it up till now. You had never given him a chance to. You realised you’re an expert in deflecting when it comes to matters of Hyunijn. You pulled at the spiral binding of your notebook, “He was just an old friend”

“You reacted way more than someone would…to an old friend. I’m not going to judge you, you know that? I’m from fucking LA. If I started judging people, I’m afraid I’d never stop”

You sighed, looking down at the coffee table, “He’s just someone I wasn’t expecting to see. It brought up old memories, shit I’d like to forget now. Let’s…talk about something else, please”

He released a breath, looking around, “Fine. I think I’m gonna get another cup of coffee. You want one?”

“No, I’m good. Coffee keeps me up at night”

Jeonghan stood up, lanky frame hovering over you, lips pressed into a thin line, “Don’t blame coffee for that”

With that, he walked off to the counter, and you stared at the empty chair. You’re trying hard not to think of that evening, after you walked out of the storage closet, out of the Pegasus building and straight home. You had felt a new kind of pathetic… and to make it worse, your apartment keys had refused to cooperate. It’s because you were shaking the whole way home. You’d dropped them on the landing multiple times as you made your way upstairs, the shrill sound the only thing snapping you out of your daze. Even your hands had shook as you tried to get into your apartment.

You’d crawled into your mattress, and you’d cried yourself to sleep. Your pillow had muffled the sounds and it wasn’t even satisfyin. Your tears felt empty and forced. The numbness…was real. What were you even crying for? Hyunjin had made it crystal clear since day one that nothing could happen between you, so you shouldn’t have expected him to suddenly change his mind.��

“I got you a cupcake” Jeonghan sat back down, a red velvet cupcake in his hand, a Cafe Mocha in the other.

It just hurt that he’d given up on the two of you, before you even had a chance to try. It was…a horrible memory, and your chest hurt at it. “I don’t want it, sorry”

“Suit yourself” He shrugged, peeling back the paper wrapping so he could take a bite out of it. The white frosting smeared on his nose, and he smiled at you. He’s a good friend, but you’ve been nothing but miserable the past few weeks. It’s bad for you because this is not the time for drama. You’re working on real stuff now in art class. You’re past introductions, and over the bunny hill. You have an actual assignment, and that’s the reason you’re here in this cafe, trying to brainstorm ideas for it. This artwork matters more to you than anything else lately, because it feels like a last plea for happiness. If your professor actually likes it, then you won’t feel so useless anymore. Time lately feels like it’s slipping through your fingers, wasting away, precious days blurring together into sadness and nostalgia. You used to count the seconds until you could live this life, but what you’re feeling right now…that’s not living.

How can you be creative right now, when all you hold inside you is bitterness? All this time, you’d held on to some minuscule hope, that one day things between you and Hyunjin would be all right. That maybe one day he would give into what he felt, and you could actually be together. It was almost …like a given. How could he kiss you like that…and not want it for the rest of his life? A part of you had imagined it all — the future you could have had with him, the relationship you could lead with somebody who knew every bit of you.

You’d been surrounded by good people your whole life, but the impact Hyunjin left on you was incomparable. His thoughts, the way his brain worked things out, the kindness with which he approached life — you couldn’t hope to find that in anybody now. It was special to only him, and more than anything, you couldn’t forget that. You couldn’t forget the beautiful things he kept hidden in his mind, in his heart. The first few weeks you’d known him…it became obvious what he would mean to you. In the silliest of ways, he even finished your sentences…How could somebody be so perfectly built for you, but not be meant for you at all?

Maybe the romance books were to blame for making you believe there was someone perfect for you at all. Soulmates were an urban legend, and a red string of fate didn’t exist. But then why did everything pull you together all this while? It couldn’t have been…for nothing.

Were you the one to blame for imagining an actual future with him? You’d never even had the honor of calling him your boyfriend, how could you hope for anything more?

The logical step was…to move on. So that’s why you’re here, painting in the new coffee shop, and hoping it will help. Jeonghan helps, kind of. He’s funny, and he’s got a large personality and an even bigger sense of humour, and you wonder how he fits it all in his lanky frame. He’s a perfect student and on top of that, he’s helpful. He’s always sharing his supplies with you in class, and he’s genuinely so amusing, if not mildly annoying sometimes, but with Minho and Felix you’d gotten used to it. He was humming now to a song you don’t recognise, his music taste is very different from yours, and he suddenly asked, “Why do you think I moved back to Korea?”

Your brows furrowed, and you randomly guessed, “I don’t know…An American girl broke your heart?”

“Bingo” He bit into the cupcake, crumbs falling onto his button-up, and on his ripped jeans, “She kissed my friend at a party. Right in front of me”

You’re surprised to hear that, and even more so that he’s openly telling you. Maybe talking freely about the past is moving on. So you told him, in solidarity, “My best friend dated the boy I like”

His eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward, pausing the music on his phone to give you his whole attention, “Did she know you liked him?”

“No…not really”

“Then you can’t really blame her I guess”

“I don’t”

“So you blame yourself? For liking him?”

“Nothing I do could have made me stop”

He tilt his head, “Is that so?”

You chewed on your lip, “I liked him for a long time before my friend met him”

“Then why didn’t you ask him out?”

“I didn’t know his name at the…time”

His eyes widened, a smile forming, “Oh…now I’m really, really curious”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past now”

Jeonghan sighed, “You know, this is a record”

You reached for his cupcake, and bit into it, it was too sweet and you hated red velvet but you wanted to feel something, “What do you mean?”

“That’s like the most I’ve got out of you, Y/N. You’re a pretty closed book”

You’ve never been told that before. You're usually always oversharing. You have to try to be better. Maybe divulging the details of your life isn’t such a weakness or vulnerability. It’s hard to explain to anybody about what you’re going through, the only person who’ll understand is Kairi, but you haven’t talked to her since that time in the park, when she brought Hyunjin up and you came crumbling down like a house of cards.

You feel so weak lately, like a balloon about to be popped, stretched to your limits. You can’t accommodate any sadness in you anymore, and any mere mention or thought of Hyunjin breaks you down. You’re trying your best though. Yeonjun is sad you don’t hang out at his place anymore, after all it’s not his fault there’s a billboard of Hyunjin right across. Falling apart felt it’d be more climatic and sudden, but it’s more of a gradual process than anything. Even now, sitting in this pretty shop in Seoul, your chest pains at the memories. The hurt is so immense sometimes you have to clutch your chest waiting for the pain to pass. It’s like a heart attack every time you think of him. You can’t remember how it used to feel when it didn’t hurt.

In the past few weeks, you’d have had a lot of selfish thoughts and wishes. Some of them are cruel in a way that you can never say it out loud. You feel guilty for even thinking them, yet most days when you’re alone in your bed and you crave him, you wish he never became an idol. Hyunjin without the fame and without his music was still the same boy inside. Hyunjin without the frills was the kid in the art store you fell in love with all those years ago.

You wish he could just be yours, to love forever, not the entire citys’. Forever was a long fucking time but you felt capable of it, of cherishing him for the rest of your life because he made it so easy. But you should have taken the hint when he cut you out of his life, without even leaving a phone number behind. If you hadn’t come to Seoul… it was entirely possible he would never have seen you again. He would have left you behind in the town, and never looked back. To him…you were just a girl he messed around with in the summer. So temporary. So forgettable.

You wish you could pick apart your brain, and take out every memory of him, but you feared there’d be nothing in you left then. Loving him took up all the space in you. Missing him did the same. Jeonghan was speaking to you still, wondering why you never shared too much about yourself, and you shrugged, “I don’t know. I just want to focus on now. I hate feeling haunted by the past. It’s paralysing, to be stuck in those memories”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed, this is a pretty serious conversation for this cafe, but he asked, “You ever see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? The movie with Kate Winslet and that one dude…um, Jim Carrey?”

You’ve stopped sketching entirely now, you hadn’t made progress in hours. It goes without saying that ever since you saw Hyunjin in the city, your inspiration has been lost. You’ve been searching for it ever since, in new friendships, in new coffee shops, in conversations like this, “I…haven’t, but Felix, my best friend loved that movie”

He leaned forward, excited to explain to you, “Well, in the movie this couple’s broken up, and they hate each other, like absolutely loathe each other. So there’s this futuristic procedure where they can choose to erase memories of their lover, and the girl…she does it. It’s too painful to remember the boy she loved”

“Oh?”

“Mmh” Jeonghan’s eyes twinkle as he explained and you wonder if he and Felix would be best friends if they met; they talk about movies with the same passion, “So the guy, he starts going through the procedure too. But as the memories of their relationship start being deleted, he realises he doesn’t want them to be erased after all. They loved each other, and their time together was so special to them. That shouldn’t be forgotten. It’s a cool concept, right?”

You’re listening to him, and the noises of the cafe have faded away, “Yeah. It’s cool” You’re playing the movie in your head, wondering what you would do if you were in it. Would you alter the chemistry of your brain so Hyunjin never existed in your life? It’d sure be easier than trying to move on, which was…useless.

Jeonghan suddenly frowned realising you ate some of his cupcake. The proof was in your hands which were covered in white frosting. He leaned over the little table, “I thought you didn’t want the cupcake”

You apologised, “Sorry. The frosting was good”

“Is that so?” He grabbed your hand. He’s touchy sometimes in class, so you weren’t too surprised. But in a single swoop, he licked the frosting right off your hand, tongue swirling around your finger for a brief second, “Eh, could be better. Anyway, do you want to watch that movie with me? You could come over after you finish the artwork”

Before you could even process what just happened, a tote bag slammed onto your table, and you both jumped. Minnie grinned at you, standing by, “So did you guys finish the assignment?”

»»————-

You are supposed to paint your most dominant emotion. It’s an important task, because you’ve to be graded on it. It’s due today. The thought of being evaluated for your creativity terrifies you. You don’t feel good for anything right now, but this is what you signed up for. Your supplies are sprawled across the apartment floor, and you’re forcing each stroke onto the paper, trying to paint a semblance of anything. You want to prove your worth in the art studio. You haven’t been too interactive in class, you’ve been at your lowest, but this meant so much to you for the longest time. So you’re trying really, really hard.

There is music playing from your phone, a mix of calm songs you’d put together months ago. Hours had passed, and you’ve fiddled away at your canvas, trying to fix every little detail. You stayed up nights in a row, finishing the painting and it was honestly a good distraction, for the most part. If Kim Jieong loves it, then perhaps you’ll stop being so sad. You will yourself to just fill in the gaps of your artwork, to correct the error in your ways so that it can be perfect for the presentation today.

But it was almost time for class, and if you didn’t leave now, you’ll be late. You stare at the painting, breathing a sigh, it doesn’t look half bad, “Well…this is as good as it’s gonna get”

As you roll the canvas up so you can carry it to class, the song on your playlist changes and within seconds… Hyunjin’s voice fills your bedroom. It was a song from the new album.

You freeze, recognising it instantly, goosebumps rippling up your arms and legs. It’s a ballad, and his voice is soft and melodious. Once upon a time it was comforting. Dread fills your stomach. You hate this song. You hate his voice. You can’t listen to him ever again. Your phone lay across the bedroom floor. You need to turn it off. In your hurry to scramble for it, your hand slips, and your elbow knocks into a glass of muddy paint-water. Before you could even process it, the liquid tips over. Within seconds, helplessly you watch the wave of liquid destroy your art. It seeps across your entire canvas, ruining everything you’d worked on for weeks.

It becomes a glob of colors and it’s so funny and pathetic you couldn’t even cry or be frustrated. It’s your carelessness to blame. The only thing you can do is turn the fucking music off.

You feel stupid, showing up to class with that. When you arrive, Minnie was presenting her piece already. It’s gorgeous, and her painting is about love. It’s obvious in the way she’s drawn a portrait of what’s supposed to be her girlfriend, Jamie. There’s strokes of red for her hair, and pink and warm tones all over. Jamie is drawn so beautifully, accentuated features, so much personality in a single portrait. Does she know how beautiful she is in her girlfriend’s eyes?

Jeonghan goes next, and he’s painted triumph. It’s more abstract than a lover’s portrait. It’s smart, and it’s confident, and it’s full of gold accents. You feel ashamed thinking of your own work. You slide the rolled-up canvas behind your desk, and hope nobody notices it. Like a zombie, you’re applauding for everyone’s work, and your hands clap every few minutes, but you’re not even looking at anything anymore. Analysis and appreciation is out of the question. Your own failure is far too distracting.

Then, Kim Jieong glanced at you for the first time this morning, expectant eyes, anticipating smile, “Come on up, sweetheart”

The rest of the class had apparently finished, and you’re the only one left. It’s easy to lie through your teeth, “I’m sorry, Mr. Jieong…I forgot”

His eyebrows shoot up, and confusion is evident in his gaze, “Forgot what?”

You can feel your friends eyes on you, “I forgot about the assignment” It’s better that he think you’re careless rather than not talented. Jeonghan’s gaze on you was deathly, because he knows you’ve worked on nothing else the past few days. This was the only thing you’d been sleeping and breathing. This was your turning point. Your hope for happiness.

Your professor nods, “I see…”

“I’m sorry” Your voice was small and pathetic but you don’t even feel any remorse. Sadness is so present in you that there’s no room for guilt. You stare at your table, not wanting to look anybody in the eye, especially as he speaks, “These assignments are for a reason, and I hope everybody knows that. We don’t wake up and come all the way here to waste each others time, do we?”

You curl up in your chair, pulling your jacket tight around yourself, and your eyes sting. You could feel his stare of judgement at you as he addressed the class, when you’re the only one at fault. Everybody else did the work. Minnie’s gaze was burning into you too, but you didn’t look up for the rest of class. It’s childish. You just feel embarrassed. You count down the minutes until it’s over. You’re going to go home and redo everything, and hopefully he will forgive you for your lack of tact.

As soon as it’s time, you grabbed your bag, rushing to leave, but his voice echoed through the class, “Y/N. Please stay back. I need to talk to you”

The dreadful words make you stop in your tracks, but you were already at the door planning your escape. Minnie pinched you in the stomach as she left, “Good luck, babe”

You turned around, clutching your bag to your chest as everybody around you exits, and you know you’re being judged right now. This is a class for professionals. Heartbreak is not an excuse. You take a look at him, “Is everything okay?”

The professor crosses his legs on the stool, seemingly relaxed, and he didn’t look mad, “Just need to discuss something with you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while”

“Okay…” You breathe, running the possibilities in your head. Is he just upset, or is it possible to actually get kicked out of this program because of your fucking carelessness?

Jeonghan stops in front of you, “Should I go ahead, or do you want me to wait for you?”

Your professor was quick to interrupt, “Nate, I appreciate you sticking up for your friend, but I’d like to speak to her alone”

Your heart warmed at the thought that he was going to stay back for you, “It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow” You told him, even though you crave his comfort. Soon, the rest of the students trickle out of the classroom, dillydallying and slow to move with no care in the world. You stand by there, waiting patiently as Jieong wraps up his work, packing up his bag and things. As soon as everyone’s gone, you apologise, “I’m so sorry about forgetting the assignment. It was really irresponsible of me, and I can explain”

“Except you didn’t forget” He looked up at you.

“Sorry?”

“The canvas behind your desk. You didn’t really do a great job of hiding it”

“That’s… not my assignment” You protest, “That’s…nothing. It’s a mess”

He got up, “Then you won’t mind if I take a look at it?”

“I promise you, it’s nothing. It’s not worth…” You trailed off, watching as he makes his way there. He unfurls it, and he’s quiet for a few minutes as he stares at your botched painting. The artwork makes no sense. The canvas is completely ruined, and a kid could have done it better. He turns to you, disappointed. “Can you remind me why you’re here, Y/N?”

Your heart breaks even more, “I promise…I’m gonna do better next time”

He steps closer to you, “That’s not what I asked you, Y/N. Why are you in my program? That’s what I want to know”

You’re suddenly finding it hard to breathe, and your mind is blank. There’s no fucking space for your thoughts or for logic or reason, when it’s just been corrupted by memories he left behind, “I’m here… because I’ve always wanted to be”

“Do you think that’s good enough?”

This behavior of his isn’t even out of nowhere. You’ve been a horrible student of lately, you haven’t paid attention, your enthusiasm has been curbed, and your paintings have been tacky and upsetting. You swallowed the lump in your throat, “I’m really trying to be better. I’m…sorry for disappointing--”

“I’m only disappointed because you lied to me”

Your eyes shoot up to his, and his gaze burns you, “What?”

He crossed his arms, stepping close to you until there’s no personal space anymore. There’s no venom in his tone but you know he’s masquerading it because unlike you, he’s a professional who knows how to deal with people like you, “You can’t just choose what you want to do on a whim. That’s not up to you. That’s not what my program is for. This canvas is your assignment. Why are you pretending otherwise? Why didn’t you present it to the class?”

“Because I fucked up”

He didn’t flinch at your usage of the swear word, and he ran a hand over his face, “What emotion were you trying to convey?”

“Peace…”

“And is that how you feel? Peaceful?”

“No…” You sighed, “I feel horrible…” There was a lump in your throat blocking your airways. The pain in your chest was returning. You’re angry at Hyunjin for doing this to you.

“Can you please tell me what’s going on? You didn’t even meet the mentor I took you to see all the way to Pegasus for. Those field trips aren’t optional. I didn’t take you for some city tour. I wanted you to meet Karina. Those opportunities are important. If you miss those… you might as well not be here. This program is for people who value that, we have no room for freeloaders”

Your eyes shoot up to his, panic rising, and your eyes sting with tears, “Professor Jieong—”

“Can you sit down for a minute?” He stepped forward, hand going to your lower back, leading you to your seat. You feel awkward at the touch; the greenhouse studio is empty right now, it’s just you and him here. Would you have to beg him to let you stay in this program? Just like you begged Hyunjin to stay with you? He stands across you when you sit, crossing his arms, a pensive look in his eyes, “I receive…more than ten thousand applications for this program every year. There’s only twenty spaces in this classroom though. I couldn’t possibly look through all the applications myself. You’re aware of that, yes?”

It's hard for you to focus on his words when you only want to cry. In all this fucking sadness, you may just be losing the most important opportunity you ever got, “Yes…”

“I have a team that does it for me. They’re all trusted, close associates. All artists of course, and with all their idiosyncrasies they have a unique way of viewing the world. They hardly ever mess up in finding talent, but earlier this year, one of them did”

“What do you mean?”

“Your file didn’t come in to me. You were sent a rejection, weren’t you?”

The reminder is a punch to your gut, even though it’s in the past and irrelevant now.

“Did you never wonder how you got in…even after being rejected?” He asked, lips curling up, as if knows the secrets of the universe and is indulging you in all of them. He’s going to tell you it was a mistake after all. You weren’t meant for this. You’ve fucked up so bad.

You wipe the single tear on your cheek as you look up at him, “To be honest…I just decided to take the blessing, and not question further”

He smiled, eyes crinkling, “Of course you did. Well, I think you’d be interested to know how you ended up getting in” You’ve never questioned it until now, and you’re anticipating his next words, "On a hot summer morning, I was supposed to catch a train up north to visit my parents. It was my day off…I don’t get too many of those here” He laughed, “But obviously, I missed the train. Instead of taking the next one, I came back to my office. When I did, I saw your file. It was in the rejected pile, but I took a single look at it and I knew there’d been a mistake. I knew that you had to be in this program. Somebody must have overlooked it, and I’m thankful I saw yours”

Your eyes widened, “What do you mean?”

“I chose you, Y/N. Everybody else in this class was picked by my peers, by the committee, but you…I picked you myself, so you of all people shouldn’t be falling behind. You have an innate talent and I respect that a lot. I don’t want to be disappointed by you in the future. I know it’s intimidating to join in the middle of a semester, but you…belong here. Don’t question that. Don’t let it fuck you up”

You were dizzy with his compliment, perhaps this validation is the only thing you needed. You didn’t deserve this kindness, “You have a lot of confidence in someone who fucked up their painting so bad, Mr. Jieong”

“If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here, Y/N”

“Right…um, thank you” Your lips tugged into a smile, and your chest felt lighter for the first time in a long time. He picked you.

“That’s the problem with your generation, you’re always doubting yourself so much” He chuckled again, “Imagine if I’d taken that train to see my parents. I’d never seen your application. It would have been such a shame to not have you here with me”

You nodded, standing up to leave, grabbing your things, “That’s a crazy coincidence… Why didn’t you take the train though?”

He shrugged, carrying your canvas for you, so he could walk you out, “They’d closed down the entire platform for a few hours, so couldn’t even if I wanted to”

You frowned, switching off all the lights and glanced at him as the room was plunged in darkness, “Huh. I didn’t know they do that…”

“I didn’t either, but apparently some famous guy was returning to Seoul that day. I’m guessing a lot of fans wanted to see him, there was too big of a crowd. So they ended up shutting down the whole platform. Made me miss my damn train”

“A… music artist?”

“Yeah! You might have seen it on the news. He’s one of Pegasus’ artists actually. I think he’s also a painter, like you.

The pain in your chest returned with a bang, “Oh…”

He laughed, “This city and its obsession with celebrities. But I guess if it wasn’t for that… you wouldn’t be here”

“Yeah…”

His hand landed on your shoulder, trying to comfort you but nothing could, “I guess that’s why they say coincidence is just another word for fate, huh?”

»»————-

Unread messages flooded your inbox. Some from Yeonjun, most from Felix… You haven’t ignored them on purpose. You just haven’t had time or the energy to get back to them. They all read the same anyway. Asking about your life in the city, and how it feels to live your dreams. A part of you thought it’s the universe being decidedly cruel to you — reminding you the irony of how you’ve never been this miserable in your life.

And then there was one from Kairi.

hey! i hope you’ve been doing good. i went to this cute new cafe in gangnam and i thought of you. i feel like we ended things on the wrong note. could we maybe have a redo of last time? if that’s okay with you

You don’t reply, because you have no idea what you’ll even talk about to her. It’s creepy to pursue friendship with Chan’s ex. You’re supposed to be moving on, not just from him, but from his entire world.

Your phone buzzes again and it’s a text from Minnie on your group chat. It’s just you, her and Jeonghan in it. You don’t talk too much here, just make plans for class and coffee. So you were surprised at what she had sent you. Maybe she feels pitiful after the way you embarrassed yourself in class earlier.

minnie: so you’re not gonna believe this yn.

yeah?

minnie: i have a friend of a friend, and he saw a picture of you on my instagram. he thinks you’re really fucking hot.

who?

minnie: just some guy. anyway, do you want me to set you up with him?

noo. please don’t

minnie: wait you didn’t let me finish. he works in the city, and i haven’t met him yet but my friend said he’s smart and funny. he seems like the kind of guy you’d like?

you’re trying to set me up with someone you’ve never met yourself?

minnie: omg its called a blind date girl

no dates. please.

minnie: all right :( anyway jamie and me are getting drunk tonight. do you wanna come?

You were trying really hard, to make casual conversation more often, to just be a normal fucking human who isn’t heartbroken and defined by your love for someone, so you said yes. You bought a bottle of wine from the store so you could bring it for them, as a gift for inviting you over.

Minnie’s place was…nice. It’s in the higher end of the city, and she definitely comes from money. You were gathered around her dining table, and you’re sitting with your knees up on her chair. Jamie was lying on the couch across you, and she’s very tipsy already. A glass of wine was balanced on her stomach, and they’re telling you the story of how they met — through mutual friends on a night out in the city, apparently it was love at first sight, and Jamie had asked Minnie out only days after they first met. You didn’t opt for alcohol tonight, instead, you were digging into a large tub of chocolate ice-cream.

Minnie was sitting cross-legged on the table, in her pajamas, “And then, guess what restaurant she picked for our first date? This…candle-lit fucking expensive place! I was so impressed, and kind of embarrassed I wouldn’t match the vibe—”

“But you looked fucking hot” Jamie interrupted, “We flirted the entire night, and then…we fucked on the very first date. At her place”

“Whoa…” You smiled at their story, tasting another spoonful of ice cream, “And…when did you start dating? Was it soon after that?”

“It’s embarrassing. She asked me to be her girlfriend…the same night” Minnie giggled, covering her face in her hands. She was definitely very tipsy, and you’d only seen her this cheerful around Jamie. In class, she was much more composed and serious, and it’s nice to see the side of her around her lover. She’s so much more open, and happier here.

“Oh” You realised, “And you’ve been together…three years now?”

Minnie grinned, shrugging, “I’d already fallen in love on the first date, no matter how stupid that sounds”

You smiled at that, and then buried yourself into the ice-cream cup again, licking flecks off the steel spoon. Minnie nudged you, snapping you out of it, “Are you ever gonna tell us what happened with your ex or are we supposed to guess?”

“Minnie…” You rest your head against the wall, “It’s really not as interesting as your story”

“Y/N….” She whined loudly, and she had made her way through the second bottle of wine, the one you’d brought, “You don’t trust us? I promise we’re not gonna judge. Please, please, please”

“It’s not about that” You sighed, but her excitement to know your past was endearing, “I just find it depressing to talk about”

“Well. That’s what we’re here for. How can you move on if you avoid it forever?” Jamie sat up, blanket wrapped around her, and Minnie even shifted closer to you. This felt nice…to have friends here, in a city you couldn’t call home yet.

She was right. The past shouldn’t be your vulnerability. You sighed, staring inside your empty cup, “Well, then I’m gonna need a hell of a lot more ice cream”

“Um, so this is about the guy you mentioned right? The one you had lost touch with?”

You knew you’d be asked this story one day. You had to tell this without naming names. You couldn’t compromise Hyunjin like that. To them, it would just be a guy from your town, not an idol, not someone famous. You curled up your legs, ripping open the plastic of the brand new strawberry ice-cream tub, “I don’t know where to start honestly. It’s kind of a long story, but…um, I had this crazy crush on a boy in my town. He was really cute. He was kind, and funny, and…really really fucking hot”

Minnie and Jamie laughed at that, eager ears as you continued, “I didn’t think anything would happen between us, because I thought he was into my best friend. Turns out he wasn’t. Me and him ended up kissing one night, it was romantic as hell. I kind of felt like…the main character in those coming-of-age 90s films. Because he was…so old-fashioned in a way? But also, really modern. He’s so romantic” You paused to breathe and all those memories are flooding back, “I was in this…pretty satin dress, and he was in a suit, with like a cropped jacket, and really cool pants. They fit him so well”

Minnie lived in a high-rise building, and from here, the city lights blinked in the distance, golden specks lighting up the horizon. The memory flooded through you, clear as day. Two people under the night sky, surrounded by mountains on all sides. He had shown you the stars and the sky. You remember telling him that stars would remind you of him now. He had held you in his arms, and imprinted his words into your soul, “And when I look at the city lights…I’ll think of you”

Was he thinking of you now?

The city lights were brighter than ever.

“Holy shit. Where did he take you on a date to? The Met Gala?” Jamie laughed, “I didn’t know guys our age even wear suits other than to funerals”

“No, it wasn’t a date date. It was just a fancy event in the town” Maybe you had terrible storytelling skills, because nothing made sense and it was all jumbled up, but they were listening intently so you continued anyway. No words could convey your first kiss with him. No sentences could capture your emotions, the lust, the love.

“But after that kiss, he regret it immediately. He wasn’t really looking for a relationship. Despite that we kept kissing, over and over…and we didn’t stop. It became a thing, I don’t really know what we were doing” You smiled softly, staring at the skyscraper lights from their window, a kaleidoscope of inappropriate memories projected on the glass. You lost your words, blaming your imagination for the way a film reel of those moments was cast onto the windows. Maybe you really were going crazy, staring at the glass, and seeing him touching you in the reflection. Heat rushed to your face, like your dirtiest thoughts were out on display, but Jamie and Minnie were quiet, and this was all in your head anyway. You took a larger serving of the ice-cream this time, the creamy texture melting on your tongue, “I guess that’s when I realised I was absolutely, insanely in love with him, but… then he had to leave”

“Leave for what? The military?” Minnie’s eyes were wide. Jamie shushed her, “Wait, let her talk babe. You can ask your questions later”

“No, not the military, just for his work, and then…” Then came the hard part of this story, “And then he blocked me. For a few months. I don’t know why”

They frowned, but they didn’t interrupt you, “I saw him in a shop downtown, and he completely walked past me at first…he ignored me. But when we met later, he kissed me. Then he told me he could never see me again” It sounded crazy told all together like this. It didn’t sound like your life. It sounded like a story from some tacky relationship podcast Jeonghan would listen to, but it was the truth. Their eyes were wide as you finished, and you stared at them, feeling naked and vulnerable, “That’s the gist of it”

“He sounds like an asshole” Jamie mumbled, pouring herself another drink. Your gaze shot up to hers. “Is thatwhat I’d made him seem like? That wasn’t my intention. He’s not an asshole, he’s…really nice”

Minnie frowned, “Yeah. No nice guy would do that to someone he cares about”

They didn’t know he was an idol, and they couldn’t know, so it was frustrating that they’d never understand all of it. How could they have guessed that it was forbidden for Hyunjin to love you?

“Honestly that sounds really fucked up. If he actually gave a shit about you, he wouldn’t have ghosted you in the first place, and then he had the nerve to kiss you? God, men are such dicks. As soon he had enough of the sex, he dropped you?”

They didn’t know all the nice things he’d said to you, or the nice things he’d done for you. You shook your head, “No, guys… it wasn’t just about the physical—”

“Did he ever tell you he loved you?”

You swallowed, “No…”

“And he told you he doesn’t do relationships” Jamie scoffed, “That’s what my friend’s ex was like. He said the same thing, and next year he got fucking married to another girl. This boy you’re telling us about…he’s obviously not going to be single forever, especially if he’s as nice as you say he is. If he actually saw any future with you, Y/N, he would have told you”

Minnie sighed, and it seemed like this very specific conversation about you had escalated into a hatred of most men, “It sounds like a fucked up situationship, and babe… if you give him so much importance it’ll only hurt you. He used you, because you’re so fucking nice. Not that that’s your fault, but…he’s just like every guy I know. They like the thrill of the chase, and when they actually get the girl, they’re bored of her”

A fucked up situationship? Maybe that’s what it actually was. Hyunjin had clearly stated that what you and him had only existed in Daejon. Here you were, calling it destiny, stupidly. Your vision became blurry as tears shot up to your eyes, and it was pathetic because you weren’t even drunk, you were just sad and loaded on strawberry ice-cream, “He’s not like that”

“Why are you defending him?”

You knew they were wrong. Obviously they were wrong, but is that what this seemed like to the outside world? That Hyunjin used you? Because you were easy…and nice?

Minnie reached out to touch your shoulder, comfortingly squeezing it, “You can do so much better than him, Y/N. From everything you said… he just sounds manipulative as hell”

You put the empty ice cream cup away, “Yeah” You mumbled, “So…what am I supposed to do now?”

“Get yourself out there! Go on dates. Kiss every guy in Seoul if you want to, if that makes you happy. You’re… fucking amazing. Are you seriously going to wait around for a guy who isn’t even trying for you?”

You’ve never been a casual person, but maybe that is what you need now. You’re done with world-shattering true loves. Even Hyunjin had casually been with girls before you, and the thought stung you that he might even be with girls after you. He only had an issue with relationships…and that’s why he’d pushed you away, because he couldn’t give you one. There’d be thousands of other girls who’d be willing to be with him - no label, no expectations, just sex. Yeah, you did need to get yourself out there. How bad could it be?

»»————-

The text said, Meet at eight.

It’s half past, and your date is not here.

You’d dressed yourself in a tight black dress, very revealing and you could hardly breathe. It was from a fancy store in your neighbourhood, and it was far too expensive, but it’d be worth it for tonight. You did your hair in a style Hana had taught you, and you haven’t dolled up like this in a long, long while. The last time you dressed yourself this much…was for the Paint and Wine event in the Château. Tonight is a first for you and you want to make a real good impression.

Although, it’s been more than thirty minutes and your date hasn’t shown up. You were sitting at the bar, getting anxious and impatient. Looking around, the place was full, everybody seemed to be on a date, and nobody’s looking at you. Nobody was looking for you. You’re only a little mortified, and the best case scenario is…that he got the timing wrong, or that he got busy and decided this wasn’t worth his time. Minnie told you he’s working, so he obviously has a more hectic schedule than yours. The worst case? That he saw you and left.

“Can I get you anything?” The bartender asked, leaning over the wooden bar, “You’ve been here a while…”

“I’m waiting for somebody to show up. A date…” You explained, and understanding settled into his features. He headed back to the rest of his customers, and you wonder if he’s going to gossip about the poor stood-up girl at the bar. They must see this a lot everyday. This bar seems fancy, your blind date suggested you meet here so he seems like a man with good standards. There’s a dance floor and blaring Latin music, which brings in most of the crowd. You texted Minnie, um am i at the right bar?

shit he’s not there yet?

You decided to order a drink so tonight isn’t useless after all, and you browsed through the flimsy, paper menu. It’s got stains of ketchup on it, and it’s gross but it reminds you that you hadn’t ate in hours. You wanted to be able to fit into this dress and to leave enough room for dinner with him. Your eyes caught sight of the familiar names of drinks that Hyunjin had wanted to make you but didn’t have the ingredients for. You ended up choosing a Tequila Sunrise instead. You don’t really want to taste an Italian Dolce Vita and discover what you missed out on that last night in Daejon with him.

An hour has passed now. You were most definitely stood-up, but you’re stubborn so you would stay until the end of tonight, and if he ever did show up you’d forgive your date in a second. Your drink was empty, you’d chugged it to calm your nerves. Your napkin was soggy, and the other couples who sat at the bar have already made their way to second base: the dance floor where they’re grinding up against each other. You have resorted to playing with the condensation drops on your glass, observing the way the water falls onto the countertop.

A blind date was how this had all started, back in the bowling alley, so why were you getting yourself into it again? Maybe you should have more dignity, and walk away right now, but you were so desperate. If you leave tonight, you’d never work up the courage again to go on a date, and you need this more than anything. You feel so stupid, and maybe Hana’s actions that past summer actually make sense anyway. You would do anything to forget Hyunjin. You’d date …almost anybody to get over him. Even if it’s a guy who kept you waiting for an hour by yourself.

“Hey. Um. Are you Y/N?” An unfamiliar voice asked. You turned around to see a boy in a maroon button-up. He’s finally here, and your heart calms a little because he’s actually cute. All Minnie had said about him was that he was smart and funny, so it’s a relief that he’s easy on the eyes too. He looked older than you, and he’s got kind eyes and curly hair. Although it’s a bit off-putting that he’s wearing a baseball cap indoors. It felt like you’re both dressed for different occasions, but you are not going to complain. No matter what happens tonight, you can’tcomplain. This isn’t the time to be picky. It’s the time to take whatever life throws at you, because clearly that’s the only way you’re going to find somebody genuinely interested in you.

“Hey, Kang-min, right?” You forced a smile at him, and suddenly you’re so nervous. This is the first real date you’ve ever been on in ages.

The boy took the empty barstool next to you, and eyed your glass, “Sorry I was late, I had a friend emergency. I hope you’re not drunk already. That’d be mean”

You smiled, watching the way he sat so comfortably like this was routine for him, “It was just one drink. Don’t worry, I just came here too” Just a little white lie so he wouldn’t feel too guilty.

His eyes flickered over your dress, falling to your cleavage, “Did you buy that just for me?”

It was so forward that it caught you off guard. Your eyes widened, and you don’t want to give away how much tonight could possibly mean to you. So you said, “Um. Depends. Do you like it?”

He laughed, gaze on your bare legs and thighs, shamelessly checking you out, “Guess you’ll find out”

You don’t really know what to say so you smile at him, hoping he also likes the shade of red lipstick you’re wearing. He looks around the place, catching a feel for it, and then back at you. He looked at the bartender, snapping his fingers to catch his attention and ordered a drink for himself. A large beer. Tasteful. He looked at you and asked, “So…what’s your damage, pretty?”

“Sorry?”

His drink arrived pretty fast, and he lift the large glass to his lips. In a single go, he finished all of it, and you’re surprised at how fast he drank this. He had foam on his upper lip as he said, “You agreed to go on a blind date. Your last relationship must have been seriously fucked up”

You hoped you masqueraded your frown, “I just wanted to try something new”

“Right…makes sense” He tsked, “So my friend told me you’re an artist”

You smiled, relieved the conversation steered in a direction you were familiar with, “Yup. I study at a studio in the city. It’s an art program under this artist--”

He interrupted you, “I hear artists infamously make almost no money, but I mean you’re living in Seoul. You must be pretty well off” He pointed at you, almost accusatory, a grin on his face, “Let me guess, rich parents. Trust fund. Private school education”

You shook your head, a little offended and surprised that he made such an assumption in five minutes of knowing you, “No. I…I worked a couple of years and saved up for this”

He called the bartender again, to order a second beer and seemed surprised, “That takes some serious hustle. Why art then? You could’ve picked anything in the world”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…not to offend anyone, but there’s no money in art. What’s the point of it then?”

“Um…” You laughed, nervously. You realised that you’ve never been asked this question before. Most people in your life knew you since birth, and never questioned your passion for it, “It’s just what I like to do. It makes me really happy to paint beautiful things—”

“So you don’t paint about real shit?”

“Sorry?”

“I think my personal pet peeve is when people pretend the world is so great and lovely, even though everything’s so fucked up. Seems like you look at the world with rose-tinted glasses, if you only like to paint all the nice, pretty things, and not something that actually matters”

“I think art can be about everything, and that’s the beauty of it. It doesn’t always have to make a social statement, but it can always be interpreted as such. Some art is just about capturing the beauty of our world, and that’s okay too” You forced a smile, wanting to get the heat off you, “Um so you never told me… What do you do?”

He looked at you over the rim of his glass, “I’m a pharmacy tech. In short; I make important phone calls, and deal with horribly annoying people”

So that’s why Minnie said he was smart, “Oh…that must have taken a lot of studying”

“Yeah. Not everyone can do it, but somebody has to” He laughed, “I stepped up. I make good money though. So, um, aren’t you going to get another drink, Y/N or are you a lightweight?”

“I’m good” You smiled, although you were hungry as fuck because you’d been waiting for him so long, “Maybe we could order the food now?”

“Here?” He chuckled, “It’s really not worth it, I only come here for the beer. You didn’t get dinner before this?”

“I…I thought we’d eat together”

He laughed, pushing his curls out of his face, “No, I’d rather get drunk with you…and we can dance”

You looked to the dance floor which smelled of sweat and other things you don’t want to think of, “Maybe we could just talk more. I’ll just get another drink then”

He smiled, then looked at the bartender, “A beer for the lady”

“Actually, I might get wine”

His eyes narrowed, and he chuckled, “Oh. Let me guess. You want the most expensive one, right?”

You blinked, “Um…no I’m okay with any. The cheapest one is fine too”

He laughed, throwing his head back, “No wine is cheap, pretty. ”

“I can pay for it” You offered. Ugh. You wanted him to like you so bad.

“No, no, you’re out with me. You should have a real drink” He went ahead and ordered a beer for you. He probably thought you were the most boring girl in this entire city, so you agreed. You needed tonight to go well. Obviously, he wasn’t anything like Hyunjin, but no one could be. If you compared every boy to him, you’d never find anybody. So this would have to do. You sipped on the beer, and it tasted bitter and so horrible, but you swallowed anyway, shooting him a smile. You’d been miserable for long, you needed to let go, and have fun. You could be that kind of girl.

He grinned, reaching forward to grab your thigh, fingers clawing against your skin, “You’re cute”

You were distracted by the suddenness of his touch, and you laughed, nervously, “Thank you. You’re cute too. I like your piercings”

“Yeah?” He tilt his head, smirking, “You’re like the tenth girl to say that to me. I must be doing something right”

You didn’t have much experience with first dates... was it always this fucking awkward? His hand was inching closer up your thigh. You shifted away slightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Sure, he was attractive, but you weren’t attracted to him yet. It was too soon.

“So…you said you’re late because of a friend emergency? What was it?” You wanted hoping to keep the conversation going, and to keep it interesting. You wanted to know more about him.

“Ugh. Do not remind me” He rolled his eyes.

“Sorry” You apologised, “Is your friend okay?”

“Nope. He ran out of some weed, so I had to run down and get some for him. Even though he knew I had a date tonight and hot girls rank higher in priority than weed”

“Oh…you seem like a good friend”

He was a perfectly cute boy, why couldn’t you let loose? Just because you’d been attracted to Hyunjin from the first time you saw him, did not mean it’d happen with everybody else. That kind of shit was once in a lifetime, and if you started expecting those sparks from every future relationship, you’d be lonely forever. But all you could wish for was him. The way he was around you, how he talked to you… the way your body was on fire when he so much as breathed near you. The thought choked you. There was no way you’d be hung up on him forever. You had to move on. It had to be as fast as possible, and tonight should be it. How often would a guy agree to go on a date with you anyway?

So, when his hand landed on your thigh again, and slipped under the hem of your dress, you didn’t stop him. You forced a smile, hoping somehow your body would cooperate, and you’d actually start enjoying it. His nails were long, digging into your upper thigh, inching closer to your underwear.

“Maybe we could play a drinking game or something. To get to know each other better” You suggested.

“Okay” He agreed, pulling his bar stool closer and leaned in, “Name of the last guy you fucked”

Your eyes widened, “Whoa. You’re getting right to it…” What game was this? Why would he want to know that anyway?

He tilt his head, smirking, “Don’t stall. You have fucked, right?”

Oh… So he just wanted to know if you were a virgin. “Yeah. I have” You tried to change the topic, trying not to feel disgusted at this implication, “Isn’t it my turn to ask you something now? I mean…according to the game”

Kangmin smiled, lazily, running a hand through his curls, “You’re…already playing pretty hard to get though. We’ll have plenty of time to know each other. My place is pretty close. We’ve got all night.”

So…he probably only picked this bar because he lived close by. Maybe this was his way of flirting with you, or you ended up going on a date with the worst guy in Korea. This was how the rest of your life would be? He leaned in closer to you, and his breath reeked of beer, and you realised in horror that he wanted to kiss you. You couldn’t. You moved away, before his lips could touch yours, hoping your unease would disappear, “Sorry. I’m nervous”

He hummed, almost taking this as a challenge, hand sliding under your dress completely, “A few more drinks then?”

You felt nauseous, instead of turned on. God, what the fuck were you doing here. This was a mistake. You couldn’t do this. “Actually. I’m just…gonna run to the bathroom for a minute” You grabbed your purse.

He sat up straighter, a smirk on his lips, “Oh? That’s where you want to take this?"

Your eyes widened at his implication, “What? No…I…I just need to go”

“Oh” He looked disappointed, and a little confused, like he couldn’t comprehend why you wouldn’t want to fuck him in a random club bathroom.

You got up, making your way through the dance floor. When you looked back, he was already ordering another beer for the two of you. You shouldn’t have agreed to this date. You don’t know what you expected. It had surely helped Hana, but she moved on from Yeonjun with Hyunjin. Of course that helped her. For their date, he took her to the coolest Japanese restaurant in Daejon, and a part of you thought tonight could be like that. Of course it couldn’t. That was her. That was him. This was all you.

It was freezing outside, and there was an alley of smokers right at the exit. Mostly old men, and some younger girls, blowing puffs of smoke into your face as you passed them. You leaned against the brick wall, trying to book a cab, but to your luck, there were none available. Your first instinct was to text Yeonjun, but he was on a work retreat, as far as you remember. Although Jeonghan… had told you he was going to be out in the city today. If he was close enough…maybe he could help you get home. You dialled his number.

“Y/N! how’s it going?” He asked, and then immediately said, “Wait, if you’re calling me in the middle of your date that means—”

“Can you come pick me up? Please. There’s no taxis” You blurted. A few of the smokers were eyeing you up, and you covered your chest with your arms, stepping away from their cloud of smoke, “And um…I don’t feel comfortable taking the train back alone”

He paused, “Uhh…you’re at the bar downtown?”

“Yeah…I know it’s out of the way. I’m really sorry to bother you, I just—”

“I’m on my way, Y/N. Don’t apologise”

You squeezed your eyes shut in relief. You tried to catch your breath, but there was no fresh air here. Minutes passed so slowly, and you were shivering against the brick wall. Everytime a guy approached you, you just pretended to be on your phone, hoping Jeonghan would be here soon. The back door to the club opened, and your blind date, Kang-min stepped out. He walked straight to you, and he looked…really pissed. You straightened up, watching him get closer. “What the fuck?” He laughed, “I was waiting for you to come back”

“I…I’m sorry” You apologised, “I was feeling sick”

He seemed upset, “You didn’t even pay for your drink”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I just—” You reached into your purse, but just as you did, you spotted Jeonghan on the other side of the street. When he saw you, he did a little jog up to you.

You looked back at Kang-min, “I have to go. My friend is here”

“What?” Your blind date asked, stepping closer.

“Whoa, whoa. Back off, dude" Jeonghan made it to you, eyes narrowed at him, “Let’s go, Y/N” He grabbed your hand, pulling you to his side.

Kang-min laughed, “Whatever. You aren’t even that hot, bitch”

Before you could say anything, Jeonghan tugged at your hand, taking you away from a possible confrontation, “Come on, the subway is close by”

“Fuck. Shit. I’m really sorry” You apologised, running your hands through your hair, trying to process what you just put yourself through. You followed behind him as you walked to the nearest station. He shook his head, making sure you stayed close to him, “No, no don’t be. I’m sorry it took me so long. I missed this stop at first”

Technically, you could have taken the train home yourself, but it was late and…you were in the worst mood. Jeonghan bought the tickets, and you waited at the platform, squeezing your purse in your hands. A little bakery was still open at the station, and he asked, “You already ate dinner, right?”

“Yeah. Let’s just go home” You mumbled. He did not need to know that your supposed fancy dinner date consisted of only cheap beer. You could have some cold pizza when you got home. The train arrived, and you boarded it, standing next to him in a corner, away from the crowd. You were so fucking embarrassed, but he wasn’t judging you.

So no more blind dates for you then… or perhaps it was a work in progress, and you would just have to keep powering through. It wasn’t Minnie’s fault either, she had no idea about the guy being…such an asshole. You stared out at the window as the train whizzed by stations, trying to not feel so sorry for yourself. Jeonghan asked you about the blind date, and you told him the gist of it.

He shook his head, releasing a groan, “That sounds really annoying, sorry. It sucks that most guys I know here are all like that. I’m surprised he even let you leave”

You swallowed, “Yeah. Were you busy when I called?”

“I was just working on an assignment”

“Oh, I’m sorry”

“I’m obviously kidding” He laughed, “It’s a Saturday night, I was at a party at my friends’”

“Oh. Is he gonna be mad you left?”

“It doesn’t matter. I told him my friend needed help getting out of a date. He totally understood. This happens here more than you think, unfortunately”

Your place wasn’t too far from the bar, and you arrived sooner than you thought. Jeonghan even chose to walk you home, not wanting you to take any deserted alleys on your own. You stopped in front of your building, and he asked you, “You gonna be fine?”

You blew a puff of cold air, leaning against the front wall, “Yeah. I just…I don’t think I should have gone on the date”

He tucked a stray hair behind your ear, smiling at you, “At least you have a funny story to tell the kids”

You scoffed, “What kids? At this rate, I’m going to die alone”

“You’re dramatic. I’m sure the other dates you go on will be better. Hopefully”

“Yeah…” You already dreaded the idea of going on more dates, “I just thought…it’d help me not be stuck in the past, you know? Or maybe the only thing that can help me is that potion from the movie you were telling me about. Eternal Sunshine, was it?”

Jeonghan laughed loudly, “It’s not a potion, Y/N! It’s a science fiction movie, not fantasy”

You rolled your eyes, smiling, “Whatever”

“Maybe we can get you on a dating app. If you’re looking to casually mess around with a decent guy, those are good. It requires more effort, but…some guys are sweet. At least better than the blind date you had”

You smiled, “Hmm. Are you on a dating app?”

“Why? Would you swipe on me, if you saw me on one?” He sounded so coy.

Your eyes flickered over him. Under the lights on the street where you lived, Jeonghan looked pretty. He looked safe. Tonight he was dressed in a simple white tee, a flannel covering him, hanging off one shoulder. You smiled, a flush rising to your cheeks, “No but seriously, thanks for…rescuing me tonight”

“Mmh, that was very damsel in distress of you to call me like that”

You smiled up at him, “Don’t push it”

“I’m just surprised you actually agreed to go on a date. Minnie and her girlfriend must have had some magical convincing powers”

You sighed, “I thought kissing somebody else would help me. Maybe I should have just let him kiss me, but I might have thrown up if he did. Tonight…was an absolute failure.”

Jeonghan let out a soft hum at your words, “I see”

“What?” You frowned, standing up straighter.

“Ah. Don’t pout. Wasn’t a total failure. I got to see you all dressed up. You’re usually showing up to class in just sweats”

“Are you making fun of my heartbreak?” You laughed, pushing him lightly.

He stumbled back on the curb, laughing, “And are you trying to kill me? Don’t push me onto the road, Y/N!”

You giggled, pulling him back on the sidewalk, “There’s no cars, Jeonghan. You’re so dramatic”

He frowned, throwing his hands up, “I was just saying that if you want to kiss someone tonight. I…wouldn’t be totally opposed to the idea.”

He floated that suggestion so casually. Your eyes widened at it, and you didn’t know what to make of it, “You’re…joking, right?”

He shrugged, and there was no nervousness, “If your big dream of tonight was to kiss some guy…I mean, you’re my friend. It’s not a big deal”

“So a pity kiss?” You frowned, but a smile tugged at your lips.

He rolled his eyes, “Oh my god. If you don’t want a kiss, then just—”

You didn’t let him finish, stepping ahead, hand grabbing his face down to yours. Your mouth met his, if only to shut him up. He immediately kissed you back, hands threading through your hair, messing up your fancy hair. His lips were rough, but it was nice…because it was different. That’s exactly what you wanted right now, a taste of something new and unfamiliar. Maybe you were trying to prove something by kissing him. He stepped ahead to be closer, and tilt his head, deepening the kiss. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you pulled away. It only lasted a few seconds.

He pulled back too, mouth stained from your lipstick, “Mm. That wasn’t too bad”

You stared up at him, “You’re so annoying”

He hummed, voice breathy, “Your lips are really soft, Y/N. What lip balm do you use?”

You sighed, “I should have just pushed you on the street”

“Ouch. I just gave you a pity kiss and you have the audacity to threaten me?”

“Shut up!” You laughed, shoving him away. You were thankful he didn’t make this awkward and didn’t read into it.

“No, I’m serious. It was really, really good. You’re a great kisser…but I should tell you, and this is really important…”

“Yes…?”

“You taste like cheap beer”

“Ugh…I know” You closed your eyes, feeling tiredness seep into your limbs, “Anyway, I should go”

He nodded at you, “Yup. See you in class tomorrow”

You waved goodbye, making your way up to your apartment, feeling the sensation of his lips on yours still. The kiss was nice…but there was nothing electric about it. It was nothing like what it could be. It’s like you’d taken one step forward, and two steps back. Tonight was all about moving on, but everything that happened had just made you miss Hyunjin more.

»»————-

This time, you bought the coffee. You found a cute table, over by the window, and you waited. Your earphones were plugged in, but it’s on mute, and you’re choosing to listen to the sounds of the cafe instead. The cafe you discovered with your friends was so cute. Plants hung from every corner, and there was cool seating; couches with crochet pillows and pink heart-shaped seats. It had so much personality, and it fuelled your inspiration. It could be your new haven.

The chair opposite you shifted, and Kairi sat down. “There you are. I’m dying for some caffeine” She smiled, cherry-colored lips. She was dressed in a fleece bomber jacket. You shot her a smile, trying to not be nervous, “Hey… Did you want a Mocha? I wasn’t sure if you’d like the same as last time”

“Americano” She told you, settling comfortably like you did this each day. She had been so sweet to you even in the few moments you had with her. She was a breath of fresh air. So, after your failure of a date, you had finally texted her back, and decided to let her into your life. Maybe you could immerse yourself into your new friendships, and you could move on like that. When you were standing in line to buy her coffee, you glanced in her direction and she was smiling at you, fondly. She hadn’t seemed upset that you didn’t text her back for so long. You wondered how much she knew about you, how much Hyunjin told her, or even Chan.

When you walked back to the table with coffee and snacks, you feared there might not be anything to talk about if she already has existing assumptions of you, but once your conversation started…it didn’t end.

“So you’ve only been here a few weeks right?” Kairi was sipping on her coffee, a plate of half-eaten biscuits laid between you. From here, you had a perfect view of the street and it looked Parisian. It’s good for people-watching, but right now, Kairi’s the most interesting thing here, “You seem like you’re settling in well”

“I think so. I’ve lost track” You answered her, reaching for a biscuit, “I moved here in the fall, and it’s almost winter now, but it also feels like no time has passed”

“You’re so lucky” She hummed.

You lift an eyebrow, “Why?”

“I’ve always had this crazy dream, to move somewhere new. A place where people would have absolutely no idea who I am. I could have a new name, new job” She laughed, “Like a secret identity”

“Why would you want that?”

She shrugged, wiping biscuit crumbs off her mouth, “I’m curious to see what kind of person I might be in another country… if I’d behave differently, if I’d have different reactions to situations…if I’d have the same kind of friends, or job”

“Oh…wow” You blinked, “You’ve actually thought it through”

“Well, yes” She shook her head, smiling, “You did start over. How’s that been for you, Y/N?"

You leaned back in your seat, it’s a plush leather and pink in color. In this moment, it doesn’t feel like this is the first real conversation you’re having with her, “It’s harder in practice, Kairi. I think your baggage ends up following you everywhere”

She leaned forward, and her eyes were sparkling, “No, but what if it didn’t? What if you could have…a clean slate? What would you do, Y/N?”

“What would I do….?” You’re left wondering. In a way, Seoul was your clean slate, but you’ve let it be tainted by your sadness, “I think I’d move to Paris…or a big city like Milan. I would…have a cool, catchy name, and I’d dye my hair a crazy color”

Kairi laughed, “Really? And what would you do in a city so big?”

“I don’t know. I would love to set up those little stalls at crowded places like the Eiffel Tower, and paint tourists, capturing them at their happiest. People are always so carefree on their vacations, and they’re always dressed their best. Even if I don’t make much money doing their portraits…I’d kill to give them a beautiful memory, something they could hang on their fridge door or something, you know what I mean? It’s not ambitious at all but man, I could imagine doing that for years and enjoying it”

Kairi was smiling wide, eyes crinkling as you talked, and you suddenly felt embarrassed for the way you’d been rambling, “Um sorry. I don’t know what came over me. That’s not what you asked”

This was strange because…you haven’t felt excited like this in a long while. You felt inspired. It’s as if something has changed, just from her presence. She put you at ease.

“No, you’re so cute. Your dreams are beautifully simplistic” She told you, and you almost blushed.

“What would you do, Kairi? If you could be anyone in the world?” You had a newfound vigor and energy, only from this conversation alone. Was it really so simple to find motivation?

“I would move to the countrysides of Japan…or an island in Hawaii. Somewhere away from people. It would be nice to have so much time for myself, and not be surrounded by millions of others”

Your heart warmed hearing her talk, “We want the exact opposite things. That’s kind of funny. You should move to Daejon”

Kairi laughed, “Hyunjin told me it was beautiful”

Your smile fell, momentarily, and you nodded, “It is. Yeah. What else did he tell you…about me?”

Her lips parted, to answer, but before she could, your phone buzzed loudly on the table.

“Who is that?” She asked. You looked up at her in surprise. “Sorry” She apologised, cheeky, “I’m nosy like that”

“It’s my neighbour” You told her, reading Jeongin’s text, “Apparently he locked himself out. He needs help getting back in”

She frowned, “That’s annoying”

“Yeah, he’s always helping me get in, like every second day…” You told her, typing in a reply to tell Jeongin you’d be there soon.

Kairi sat up straighter, a sad pout on her face, “I guess that means you have to leave”

“Yeah. Shit” You realised, “I’m sorry. I would like to stay more—”

She reached across the table, grabbing your hand, and you noticed she’s wearing a charm bracelet, similar to one you had, “Don’t worry about it. You’ll just have to make it up to me then”

You tilt your head, “How?”

“Same time. Tomorrow”

You smiled at her eagerness, “Um…I’m not sure if I’ll be free, Kairi. I might have class…”

She squeezed your hand, “Regardless, I’ll be here. I have some work on my laptop…and I prefer to work out here, so…”

And that was it.

You rushed home to Jeongin, helping him get into the building, and he was intensely apologetic of cutting your plan short. He’d been standing on the porch steps, hands in his pockets, and a sheepish smile on his face, “Shit. I ruined your day, didn’t I?”

You shook your head, inserting your keys into the doorknob, “Not at all. I wasn’t going to let you stand out here in the cold. And are we still in the 18th century? You should talk to Mr. Kwon and have digital keypads put in or something. He loves you, so he’d listen to you”

He watched you from where he stood, arms crossed over his chest, “What happened today?”

You glanced back at him, “Sorry?”

“You haven’t had a proper conversation with me in days”

You stilled, not realising that you’d done so, you hadn’t meant to be so flippant, “Jeongin, I’m sorry, I…”

“You don’t need to apologise. It’s good. I like it. You seem chatty today”

You smiled, “Um. I just met a friend for coffee”

“Ah. Is that all it takes to win your heart?”

You rolled your eyes, “Stop…”

“Is it the same friend that dropped you off the other day? That boy?”

Your eyes widened, “How do you know that? Have you been spying on me”

“You wish” He walked past you on the stairs, “That was an awkward kiss, Y/N. Haven’t your friends in the city taught you anything yet?”

You gasped, following up after him, “What do you mean it was awkward?”

Jeongin laughed, stopping in front of his apartment door, “I’m kidding. Is that dude your boyfriend?”

You hugged your bag, leaning against the stairwell, “No… he’s just my friend from class”

Jeongin smiled, “I see…well, if you ever wanna hang out with someone not from your class…” He pointed to his door, “My doorbell’s right here”

Then he left, and you stood at the stairwell, a soft smile on your face.

»»————-

The table by the window with the heart-shaped chairs was occupied. Kairi sat on one side, laptop before her, a cup of tea and a gochujang sandwich with the meat spilled out. The chair opposite her was empty, for you. She didn’t see you when you walked in, too busy typing super fast on the laptop. “No coffee today?” You asked, sitting down.

She seemed surprised, cheeks dimpling as she smiled at you, looking away from her work, “You made it. How was class?”

You hung your scarf over the back of the pink seat, glancing outside. It could have been a beautiful afternoon, if the weather weren’t so dreary. “It was just work in studio time... I left early.”

“You’re kidding me. I feel special” She grinned, eyebrows raising teasingly. She is special. There’s something about her that’s changed the energy in you, making you get out of bed today.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting” You admitted, folding your arms on the little table, “And I thought we could pick up where we left off. I was wondering about it all night”

“Hmm, right. You can text me too, you know?” She leaned forward, head in her hands, “You asked me a question yesterday. You still want to know?”

You’d asked her what Hyunjin had said about you, and you swallowed. Immediately there’s a damper in your mood, “I…I was just really curious, because…” What if he talked shit about you? What if all she knew about you were your flaws? Your gut hurt and you shook your head, “Actually, I don’t want to know, never mind”

She sensed the drop in you, “Don’t worry about that. You’re mine to know now”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…I want to know you on my own terms. Not through secondhand stories of your personality. We don’t need to talk about him, at all”

It’s like a weight lifted off your chest, “We don’t…?”

You don’t want your friendship with her to stem from Hyunjin, because…Hyunjin has given up on you. He’s lost all hope for the two of you, and you can’t let that taint this new beginning. In an ideal world, you could erase him from your mind, and nothing would be tainted by the beauty of his existence. He’s ruined everything for you, because the happiness of nothing can compare to him.

You want the exclusivity of her. She wants to know you without the attached drama of broken hearts. You also want to know the real Kairi, without Chan, and it seems like she wants to know you too, without Hyunjin.

“We don’t have to ever talk about him, if you don’t want to. I don’t want to spend all our time talking about boys anyway” She smiled, and it’s a relief. Your shoulders relax. You don’t want to relive the past like you did with Minnie and Jamie.

You smiled too, “Well anyway…I see that you’re having tea today”

She laughed, a pleasant sound that calmed you, “Well, if we’re going to be doing this everyday, I have to start being more healthy”

“Everyday…?”

A single cup of coffee turned into a week’s worth. A week turned into a month, and quickly, it became obvious that she was your favourite person to hang out with in the city. Yeonjun was there, but he was different. Jeonghan and Minnie were closer to you everyday, but you only talked about art. Kairi and you talked about everything, and anything. Anything except him. She told you about her work, about the drama and the gossip with her coworkers. You told her about the movies Felix used to drag you to, and the music that played on repeat in Aera’s. You hadn’t made time for a movie since forever, so one day, she took you to the theater and instead of your routine coffee, you had soda.

You like to sketch while you talk, and she sits across you, finishing up her work. Her corporate job is tough, but you keep each other entertained. Your art still isn’t too inspired. You’re struggling, and you come home to an empty bed each night. There’s nights you get lost in the memories of summer, and there are mornings when you wake up from dreams of him. Sweet dreams. Dirty dreams. Beautiful, out-of reach dreams. In your dreams, he’s yours still.

All your afternoon naps remind you of him. Something about the sunlight, the warm wooden floors and you have an urge to be in his arms. So you stop sleeping during the day. In the moonlight and secrecy of your bed, you still touch yourself to thoughts of only one boy. You can’t help it.

All of the people who said time heals all wounds, were actually right. Each day, the burden is less. It feels like you were inching closer and closer to a state of not just being heartbroken. You had your moments though, like when Jeonghan would take you home after class, the skyscrapers would reflect onto the train windows, and you’d think of how prettier the blinding lights would be through Hyunjin’s eyes. Your own couldn’t capture the beauty he could see.

There’d be moments -- when someone in the coffee shop would order a vanilla iced latte with whipped cream and sprinkles, and your heart would skip a beat, wondering if he’d be on the other end of the counter to take it. But of course, Hyunjin could never walk into a crowded coffee shop in the middle of Seoul.

On the other hand…Kairi and you are closer every day. The day you invited her to your apartment, she met Jeongin on the staircase, and she fawned over how contagious his smile was. She picked you up from the Atelier one day, and bumped into your friends from class, and she loved them too. She can be intimidating sometimes, with her classy clothes, bold personality…but she has endless love to give to everyone, and she’s not a fan of keeping it hidden. You love that the most about her. It’s easy to be happier around her. You wonder how her and Chan ever made it work. A love like theirs shouldn’t be behind closed doors.

On a Thursday afternoon, you were none the wiser when she told you, “So…my birthday’s next week”

You spilled your coffee at the revelation, staring up at her in shock, “You’re telling me now?”

Her eyes widened at the reaction, and she pulled out a tissue from the dispenser to wipe the table clean as she laughed, “Why not?”

“That’s…not enough time”

“For?”

“I have to buy you a present”

She giggled, “A present? You don’t need to, Y/N”

You scoffed, and you’re so much more comfortable around her now, “I kind of have an obsessive problem when it comes to birthdays”

She shook her head, “You really don’t need to get me anything. Some of my friends from work are throwing a party, and I’d like you to be there. Obviously”

“A party?”

She smiled, “It’ll be fun. You can invite Jeonghan too. It won’t be too big a thing, but I’m guessing there’s gonna be a lot of plus-ones”

“Where is it?”

She smiled, sipping her coffee in between. She’d given up on tea after the first time, “So…there are these campgrounds outside Seoul. It’s a few hours from the city, it’s alongside the bank of the Han River. There’s a lot of…outdoorsy shit there, volleyball courts, barbecue grills, some cabins if anyone wants to stay overnight, canoes. I was thinking it’d be nice to go there.

“That…sounds amazing actually”

“I don’t know what to wear yet. Everybody’s going to be in swimsuits, since the river’s right there and my friends all love to go out on it, skinny dip and everything”

“Oh wow” You blinked, and Kairi’s friends sound as free-spirited as her, “Maybe…I could help you choose what to wear?”

She clapped her hands, a wide smile on her face and you love seeing her like this, “Perfect. I know what we’re doing tomorrow”

»»————-

The curtains of the trial room parted, and Kairi stepped out, doing a spin for you. The lights of the boutique are harsh, but Kairi looks amazing. She doesn’t dress up much — you’ve seen her entire range of dark sweaters, and graphic jackets over the weeks by now.

“Shit, you look amazing” You realised, eyes roaming her figure. A black bikini hugged her tightly, and it was the sexiest swimsuit you’d ever seen. Under the bust, two silver chains hugged her torso, sparkling under the store lights, wrapping around her navel too.

She had a smile on her lips, and she seemed satisfied with it too, “Is this the one?”

You’re in a cute boutique, it sells dresses and swimsuits and silver jewellery. It’s decorated prettily, and there’s not many people here because it’s not summer. It’s rapidly approaching winter, and in a few weeks, it’ll be Christmas.

“It’s the one” You nodded, standing up to circle around her, “You look…gorgeous. Everybody will fall in love with you”

Her smile fell at those words.

You must have said the wrong thing, “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, “Chris would love it so much. He was always hyping me up, especially when I bought new clothes because I barely ever did”

She didn’t talk about him much. In fact, this was one of the first few times she brought him up. Every time she did talk about him, it was with confidence. They had broken up ages ago, but she was never angry about it. How does she possess such ease in her, to talk of a failed love? If it was so confident, why would it end?

With trepidation, you voiced your thoughts, “Can I…ask you what happened?”

It was a shot in the dark, of course. She didn’t have to tell you the truth, and you could handle not knowing. She wasn’t surprised you’d asked. She just sat down on the boutique floor, stretching her legs onto the fluffy carpet, “Uh…it’s not that big of a deal”

You joined her, crossing your legs, touching her hand, “You can tell me, but only if you’re comfortable with that”

“Someone threatened to kill me” She chuckled.

“What?”

“It was probably an empty threat” She shrugged, “No big deal”

“But…why? What, I don’t understand?”

She tilt her head, “You know Yoko Ono?”

“John Lennon’s wife?”

She nodded, “After she got married to him, and The Beatles broke up…everybody blamed her for it. Apparently he was putting her before the music, and she was one of the reasons the band ended. Could you imagine how much people hated her? They singlehandedly blamed her for the breakup of…the most iconic band in the world”

Your brows furrowed, “But what has that got to do with you?”

“A few months ago, a paparazzi spotted Chan…at a luxury store” She breathed in. Your heart skipped a beat, watching Kairi talk.

“I guess he was…looking at engagement rings. I don’t know for sure. Maybe he was buying something for himself” She breathed, “But after the news of that came out and people realised that the Bang Chan may be getting married…”

“Oh…”

“People think I’m gonna be the Yoko Ono here” She forced a smile, “That he’s gonna get caught up in this relationship, and not pay attention to their music. That he’ll choose me over the fame”

“Kairi…I’m so sorry” You traced a soothing circle on her skin, but you had goosebumps from just listening to her, “That’s fucking unfair”

“Anyway, those pictures were the beginning of the threats. I wasn’t too concerned…because honestly, Chris is the only thing that mattered to me, if he was happy, if he was okay. As long as he was good, I would be too. But Pegasus thought they were real. And Chris…he was scared for me”

“I’d be scared too”

She let out another scoff, but she was shaking, and you could tell how much this bothered her, “So instead of marrying the love of my life…we broke up.”

Your chest wrenched, “I’m…so sorry, Kairi”

She nodded, head bending down, and squeezed your hand, “I’m sorry too. It’s stupid that the entire life me and him had planned together may not ever happen because of a few threats posted online by losers. Maybe they were real though. I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know”

“Couldn’t the company do something about it?”

She scoffed, “The company won’t do shit. They can protect Chris all they want, but they’d never step up to protect his partner. Their entire image revolves around them being single…and available. Sex sells. Their sex appeal is more important to them than his life”

It wasn’t a competition, but her heartbreak was much worse than yours. She had everything, and then she lost it. You mumbled, and you hurt for her, “It’s…not fair at all”

“Yeah. Anyway, me and Chris weren’t getting along towards the end of that. We disagreed on a lot of shit.” She nodded, lifting her head up to meet yours, “The breakup was hard on the others too. Especially Hyunjin, he…” She paused, “It’s almost like he took it personally”

The name sang to your heart, coursing through your veins like lifeblood, making your pulse quicker. “He loved the two of you together” You ended up saying.

Kairi smiled at you, “He tell you about us?”

“Yeah…he said I’d really love you”

She smiled, eyes crinkling, “He was clearly right about that”

“Can I… ask you something?” You said, and she nodded, “Do you ever think you’ll get back together?”

She smiled, “I mean, I can hope, but unfortunately…the decision would have to lie with Chris. If things go wrong, he could lose everything. I would lose nothing…except him. So in the end, it’s up to him. Right now, I think it’s impossible. In summer, a news website threatened to publish about our relationship. Chris isn’t equipped to deal with the fallout that comes with that”

“Oh…I’m sorry”

She took another breath, “Um, we should probably get off the floor before the employees sees us. It’s your turn to try on a bikini anyway”

You couldn’t understand where she conjured up all her positivity from, and you shook your head once you realised what she’d said, “Oh, no Kairi, I have a swimsuit already”

She shrugged, tugging your arm to make you stand up, “You’re going to get a new one though. It’s my birthday, you have to”

“But…” You protested, as she lightly shoved you towards the rack. Tons of bikinis hung on it, ranging from all different styles and colors. Ombre, mismatched, bejeweled. “I don’t know…” You touched the material of a blue one, wondering how you’d pick one.

“How about this lilac?” She asked, pulling a set out. It was too sexy, and too out there. It was the kind of thing Hana would force you to wear. Kairi must have noticed the drop in your expression, because she spoke, “Actually, I’m sure we can find another one”

After some looking around and a lot of nudges from her, you settled on a red bikini set. It was…beautiful. It looked like a thing you’d see on a model in a catalogue. There were metal hearts instead of strings, on either side of the underwear. You’d never be one for vanity, but right now…you could stare at yourself for hours. It fit you perfectly, like nothing else ever had, almost as if it was made for just your body, nobody else’s. When you stepped out, Kairi was patiently waiting on the ottoman. She was rocking her heels back and forth, and she still hadn’t changed out of her final pick, “Holy shit” She grinned, “We’re…gonna look so fucking hot!”

You giggled, “You’re looking forward to it, right? I wanna help your friends plan it too, if that’s okay”

She pulled you into a hug, warm arms enveloping around you. You were still in your swimsuits with the tags on, but you melted into her embrace as she mumbled, “Of course that’s okay! Plus, you’re gonna be there …so I’m not worried about anything”

»»————-

The campgrounds were beautiful, and the party was in full swing. Green grass stretched for miles, running alongside the Han river. Bordering on the outskirts of Seoul, it was far from all the noise, the pollution, and the constant ringing of the sirens. They weren’t just normal campgrounds though. Instead of cabins, there were little glass houses, hidden beneath trees with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the river, which people could book for vacation rentals all year round. Everything in the city was more boujee. Even nature. It’s like the city folk had figured a way to camp without the mosquitos and the discomfort and glamorised it, fit for celebrities and socialites.

A volleyball court was constructed on a stretch of sand, and a wooden dock extended onto the river, canoes attached to it that anybody could borrow. Pink and yellow inflatables floated down the water, occupied by some of Kairi’s friends who were already so drunk and it was only midday.

Pretty lanterns hung across poles, the only lighting for this place, and even a freaking DJ booth was set up by the bonfire. It all had a modern festival vibe, and Kairi told you that this place usually booked a lot of small rock gigs over weekends. The campgrounds were public, but she had rented out an area for the day. Her friends from work were originally supposed to be planning everything, but you were also helping them now. For someone who hated parties, you sure loved planning them. It was a perfect distraction, from the stress of classes. The venue for Felix’s birthday had been naturally beautiful, but it couldn’t compare to the extravagance of the city.

You’d driven up here in the early hours of the morning, and Jeonghan had been a boon. He’d helped you unload the crate of beers from his car, loading them into ice-cold pink coolers you’d situated every few metres across the riverbank. It was a hotter day than usual, despite the city being on the brink of imminent snowfall, so cold drinks…were a must.

Most people had arrived at the campgrounds in the late afternoon, checking in at the front-desk before making their way towards the river. Kairi had a ton of friends, most of them from work, and you weren’t the corporate type, so you maintained a little distance, choosing to be orchestrating everything behind the scenes more. That’s why you were at the barbecue right now, grilling meat for some hotdogs.

Jeonghan had long abandoned you. His red swim shorts are easy to spot, and the official dress code of this party was just swimwear. He was supposed to be helping you cook but he was stretched out on the riverbank, sketching instead. He must have been really inspired, and from where you stood, you could see him with his feet up in the sky, nose buried in a little sketchbook. It was sweet of him to come, and he was the only person you knew, so you were grateful that he was here.

A frisbee whizzed past you, and you looked up to see Kairi giggling. “Shit! I almost hit you, didn’t I?” She looked beautiful, and the silver chains on her swimsuit sparkled in the sun as she ran around the grass, indulged in a serious game of frisbee with her friends. You smiled back at her, “I’ll forgive you, but only because it’s your birthday”

Ever since she’d told you the truth of what went down between her and Chan, you’d grown fonder of her, and almost protective in a sense. She was so much stronger than you, and you could learn a little from her in terms of positivity. She had introduced you to all her friends, but they were too many names for you to remember. Sohee, Jinsoo, Eric, etc. You’d assigned yourself to the snacks, not feeling too confident in greeting her guests.

“Do you want it crispy all the way through?” You called out to her, pork belly sizzling against the pan as you tossed it. This made you feel useful. It was better to not let your mind wander, instead you filled it with little responsibilities such as this.

She ran up to the grill, frisbee still in her hands, “Why are you all the way over here?”

You gestured to the barbeque, and the plates of snacks, “Somebody’s got to feed your guests”

“They can feed themselves, Y/N. We should go in the river while the sun is still out!” She grabbed your arm, and started leading you away from the barbecue, “I’m sure Nate can take over anyway”

You weren’t going to argue with that. You’d missed swimming, and being in the water, so, you let her pull you into the river. In the cold water, surrounded by nature on all sides, it almost felt like home. Kairi swam over to you, a big smile on her face, “Fuck. The sun feels so good”

You drifted closer, smiling, “I’m glad you’re happy. It’s kind of your day, you should be”

“I’m really, really fucking grateful that dude spilled a drink on me and we met in that club bathroom…”

You laughed, clasping your hand with hers as you swam in the water together, “Well. I’m sure there’s nicer ways for us to meet”

She rolled her eyes, “No, are you kidding? That was the best one. I needed someone like you in my life”

You giggled, “Someone like me?”

“We haven’t even know each other that long, if you think about it. Honestly, I never even thought you’d text me back, because…of him” She paused, “But I think you sacrifice your peace for others, and…I don’t know anyone else like you”

You swallowed, and you didn’t want to get emotional in the middle of the river, “Kairi…tell me you didn’t bring me in the water just to make me cry”

“Actually” She corrected herself, a small chuckle following, “I did know one person like you”

You don’t have to probe to know she’s talking about Chan.

“You remind me of him. As crazy as that sounds” She hummed.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you” You apologised, and you were caressing her shoulder now, rubbing it.

She wrapped her arms around your waist, and her body felt warm against yours, “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m sorry I keep bringing him up. It’s like second nature for me. Does the same ever happen with you…?”

There can’t be a better day than today for you to move on, so you forced a smile, “No. I don’t think of Hyunjin anymore. It’s in the past…” It’s a complete lie, but one day, you’re hoping it will come true. Kairi doesn’t know everything that happened in the end and she doesn’t need too. She doesn’t know he gave up on you, all she knows…is that you don’t talk anymore.

Resignation settled in her gaze, “So…you’re completely okay with him?”

You nodded, “Yup. Anyway, um I don’t know about you but… I’m starving. Should we get the hotdogs?”

Kairi blinked but didn’t question your change of topic, “Sure. That’d be perfect”

You waded out of the water, jumping back onto the riverbank, and the air was prickly cold, but the sun was still warm in the sky. The DJ booth set up in the distance had a party playlist on repeat, and tons of people were dancing, some of Kairi’s friends, some just locals who were enjoying this area. The water droplets on your skin looked like glitter, and you ran over to the barbecue grill, dripping wet. Kairi’s friends, Sohee and Eric were indulging in a platter of pork ribs and grilled chicken, perched on a picnic table. They smiled at you as you approached them, “The water nice?”

You nodded, hugging yourself, “Mmh, you guys should get in while it’s still warm! If you guys don’t mind…could I please borrow a plate for Kairi?”

“Of course. Help yourself” Sohee smiled, black sunglasses resting on her head, and she was in a white one-piece swimsuit, “You’re…Kairi’s artist friend, aren’t you? We’ve heard a lot about you”

You laughed, flushing, “I hope good things”

Eric laughed, “You bet. Hey, we’re playing volleyball later, if you wanna join?”

You grabbed a plate of the sausages and bulgogi, “That sounds cool. I’m a terrible shot but I might join!” They laughed and you picked up some disposable cutlery, heading back to Kairi.

She was out of the water now, sunbathing on the grass and Jeonghan sat at her side.

“I got you some meat” You handed her the plate, balancing it on her stomach. Her arms were stretched behind her head, and she squinted under the sun at you, “Thanks, baby”

The term of endearment brought a flush up your chest, and you sat cross-legged next to her. It was crazy how fast you’d grown fond of each other, as if you were always destined to be such good friends. As you ate off her plate, Jeonghan brought you a couple of drinks. It seemed like he’d finally abandoned his sketchbook in favour of enjoying the place around him. Jeonghan yawned loudly, “This weather makes me want to take a nap”

“Well, I really don’t mind if you do” Kairi suggested to him.

Jeonghan laughed, “Really? I wouldn’t be the lamest person at this party?”

“You won that title hours ago” You joked. Jeonghan gasped dramatically, and lightly shoved you, “It’s rude that you’re not my self-proclaimed hype girl”

You pushed your sunglasses up your head, staring at him and trying not to laugh, “I’m sorry…your what?”

He blew a puff of air, and laid his head on your lap, “You know…I’m like always hyping you up in class. Making you laugh when you’re miserable—no offence— and even rescuing you from pathetic blind dates. You’re not gonna do the same for me?” He bit into a sausage, sauce smeared across his lips.

“You’re such a messy eater” You commented.

His eyes were closed and he smiled, “You can lick it off me, if it’s bothering you”

Kairi sat up, laughing, “What is going on with you two?”

You shook your head, “Nothing. He flirts with me when he’s drunk”

It was rapidly approaching nightfall, and that’s what you hated the most about winter: shorter days, longer nights. The sun set behind the forest, settling warm rays on your skin, drying the water from your swim off.

You smiled, indulging in this moment, wishing every day could be the same. You were in a beautiful place, with new friends and this could be your blank slate. Tonight could mark what you and Kairi had talked about – a real, fresh start. For the first time in weeks, your chest didn’t hurt.

»»————-

You knew you were terrible at coordinated sports, and it became obvious to everyone else too when you missed the fifth volleyball headed your way. Eric on the other team, did a fist-bump with his teammate at your loss, and Sohee sighed, “Just catch one, Y/N!”

You threw your hands up, a giggle escaping you, “You guys asked me to join. I told you I’m horrible at this stuff!” There were two teams, and the one with you was… horribly failing. Nobody took it too seriously so it was okay, it was for fun. It was just insane to you that you were playing volleyball next to the freaking river with strangers in Seoul. If past you found out about it, she’d absolutely freak out. You were counting every blessing, grateful to be here in the city, and you were making the most of tonight. You’d made Jeonghan join with you, and he was on the other team. Kairi was somewhere by the bonfire, dancing, and you could her loud singing along all the way over here.

“Just try to catch this next one, okay?” Jeonghan called at you over the net.

You were horrible at bowling too, but Seungmin had taught you once and after that you hadn’t been half as bad. All you had to do was focus, and channel all your built-up energy into shooting the ball, not get distracted by every other thing happening. You’d seen Sohee shoot enough successful ones to try to imitate her. So, you stepped up, rooting your feet in the sand, and she was cheering you on in the background. You didn’t even know her, so it was funny that she cared this much.

Jeonghan across the fence tossed the ball towards you. You don’t know what prompted you to jump, and this time you actually hit it with all the energy you could muster, your fist making contact with the ball, and it shocked Jeonghan so much that he forgot to serve entirely. “Are you kidding me?” He cried, crawling under the net to run up to you. He pulled you into a hug, arms wrapping around your body, “I knew you had it in you! All you needed was a little bit of humiliation to get you there”

“I barely hit!” You giggled, hugging him back, and his torso was warm to the touch, “And you’re supposed to be on the other team, but…thanks”

He rolled his eyes, holding you tight in his grip, “I’ll gladly let you win any day”

He was so touchy tonight. It must be the mix of alcohol, adrenaline and being away from the stresses of the art studio. His hand lingered on your waist, drifting close to your ass but you didn’t stop him. It was silly because you weren’t even into sports, you didn’t care about this volleyball game, but you were smiling widely, and it wasn’t forced.

Jeonghan let go of you, steadying you on the sand, and in your happy daze, you got up on your toes and kissed him, threading your hands through his hair. It was frizzy from the wind, and you settled on the nape of his neck. He smiled into the kiss, pressing your body to his, and he was only in his little swim-shorts, and you were only in your bikini so most of your skin touched his. It was a strange feeling, to be so physically close to somebody who wasn’t Hyunjin, but that would never happen again, and to curb the hurt, you kissed him deeper.

Sohee was laughing in the background, “You guys know the game isn’t over yet, right?”

This kiss didn’t mean anything, yet it meant everything. It meant that you could let go. Hyunjin didn’t want you in his life, and one day you’d be okay with that. Right now, you had to live in this moment. You wound your arms tighter around Jeonghan’s neck, and you kissed him deeply, and he was probably surprised that you were giving in so much, because he knew this wasn’t anything special. You surprised yourself too.

Kairi calling your name is what made you pull away from him, cheeks flushed with adrenaline. She was walking over to you, and you ran up to her, across the makeshift volleyball court, “Babe! Did you see me hit that ball?”

She looked like she’d seen a ghost though, and she reached for your hand, “Y/N. I need you, please”

“Wait, what’s wrong?” You frowned, stepping out with her.

She was fumbling over her words, “He’s here. Y/N. He’s here” Her eyes were wide in despair. She looked like she was going to cry, staccato mumbling, “I don’t know what to do”

You grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the game, You’d never seen her in such a state, “Kairi, please calm down. Who’s here? What’s going on?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear spilling out, “Chan…Chan is here”

Fucking hell.

“Hey, hey, hey. Kairi, I need you to calm down, okay?”

Your heart had dropped into your gut, but you had to be there for her. She was breathing heavy, and her eyes were filling up with tears, smudging her mascara and her silver eyeliner, “I don’t know what to do. If I talk to him, I’ll end up doing something stupid, like kiss him or something”

You grabbed her gently by the shoulders, so she could look only at you and not be stimulated by the rest of the party, “I’m gonna handle it, okay? Kairi. I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to do anything”

Her eyes were wide, “What? You will? Are…are you sure?”

“Of course. It’s Chris, I got this” You held her chin, fingers caressing her jaw, “Today is your day. I don’t want you to stress about anything”

She let out a breath, a tear escaping, “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sorry, I just got really overwhelmed, I wasn’t expecting to see him and…I don’t know if he knows I’m even here”

“What do you want me to say to him?”

“Just…don’t send him away. I don’t want him to get hurt. But please…find out why he’s here. I’m so…fucking confused. Why today? What does he want?”

“I’ll talk to him” You looked around, eyes landing on a concerned Jeonghan. He was still playing the game, but his focus was on the two of you, “Can you go hang out with Jeonghan till then?”

She nodded absentmindedly, seemingly so lost, “Thank you...Fuck, I just…don’t know how to deal with this right now”

“Jeonghan?” You called out, and it only took him a second to abandon the game and run up to you. His eyes observed Kairi’s fragile state, “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Can you take her to the dock? I’ll catch you there in a bit, okay?”

He glanced at her, no questions asked, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Of course, no problem” He smiled at you, a dazzling grin that told you he’d take care of it, “Catch you in a few”

Then he took her away, leading her towards the other side of the campgrounds. The dock was nearer to the woods, hidden between the trees and the rocks, away from Chan. You’re sure the physical distance from the rest of the party would help Kairi calm a bit. You glanced at the volleyball game. They were all standing and waiting for you. Sohee had her hands on her hips, “You coming back?”

“I’m gonna have to ditch the game, sorry! Win for me, okay?” You shot her a smile.

“We’re gonna kick your ass, Y/N!” Eric yelled across. You laughed, waving them a goodbye as you walked over to the bonfire. That’s where Kairi said she saw him. You couldn’t understand. Why would Chan be here, and how had he heard about this party? Things between them had long ended, and there was no logical reason for him to come here suddenly. You were proud of yourself for staying calm though. Kairi was what mattered tonight, and you could easily deal with her ex.

There was a dance party situation happening around the fire. Everyone had congregated near it, and the DJ had long given up on playing good songs, settling for dance club music instead. From here, you could see the bonfire. One of Kairi’s friends, Jinsoo ran up to you, “Y/N, hey! Do you know where the rest of the beer is?’

You stopped to explain, you’d somehow become the unofficial host for this party and everyone must have noticed how close you and Kairi were. “Um, it should be in a pink cooler. We unloaded near the cabins”

“Great, thanks!” She smiled at you, running back there. Your eyes scanned the crowd around the fire. The sand here was warm, and it felt so good between your toes. Everybody was drinking, and dancing, making it harder for you to find him. You’d never seen Chan in person, but you’d seen so many pictures of him. It’d be second nature to recognise him.

Then, you spotted a boy by the fire, gaze frantically looking around the campgrounds, and you stepped up to him, making your way through the people dancing.

He was in a black sweatshirt, and dark jeans and he stood out, surrounded by girls in bright-colored bikinis, and boys in expensive swim-shorts. There was no telling from his stature that he was someone famous, which is probably why none of the guests were giving him a second look. You wonder if any of Kairi’s friends had ever known about their relationship. You weren’t nervous about this interaction, even though you should be. This was Hyunjin’s best friend. Why were you not freaking out? Maybe because you’d do anything to make sure Kairi had a good night.

“Chris?” You asked, voice low. You didn’t want to spook him.

At hearing his name, he turned to face you. Your heart jumped at the sight. He was beautiful in person. None of the pictures could do him justice. In the pictures, he had stage makeup and styled hair. Right now, natural curls fell into his face, and he looked so simple, like any other guy you’d pass by on the street.

“Hey. You’re Chris, right?” You spoke, and the only thing making you nervous was him looking right into your eyes, “I’m uh…I’m one of Kairi’s friends.” It was best to not say your name. His gaze was…very intense but you had to keep cool for her, so you smiled. A genuine, warm, smile.

The tension in his shoulders dissipated as understanding settled in his face, and he stepped up to you, clearing his throat, “Hey. Um, I go by Chan actually”

“Chan…” You repeated, smiling at him, fiddling with your fingers, “I wasn’t really expecting you to show up”

He sighed, hands in his pockets, “I know… I’m not on the guest list”

“She didn’t know you’re coming tonight”

“I wasn’t planning to” He answered, taking in another breath, and his voice was shaky, “I came straight from the studio. I drove…three straight hours to get here, on a whim. I know I’m not dressed for the party, but I need to see her right now”

Oh, wow… You hope you didn’t sound rude but this was in her best interest, so you said, “I’m sorry…I don’t know how to say this… but she’s not feeling great about this. How did you even know about the party?”

He was about to answer but it’s like he couldn’t find the words, struggling. Had he come here just to wish her for her birthday? It was hugely romantic, but there must be more he wanted to say. What would make him drive all the way here?

“Channie, she is not by the cabins either!” Someone yelled out.

You would recognize that voice anywhere.

Your heart stopped beating.

Within seconds, somebody came running up through the shadows of the trees. The air left your body, and you couldn’t breathe.

Hyunjin.

He stepped out into the light and all of the noise around you died.

The waves of the river were suddenly quiet, the forest was mute, the music was silent. Only your pulse ringing in your ears.

He was here. He was here. He was here.

Immediately, his gaze landed on you, and he stopped still in his footsteps.

There was no hiding his surprise. There was no pretending, or feigning of emotions. His mouth parted, eyebrows shooting up, eyes wide as he saw you.

Vision blackening, clouding, blurring, you could only see him in the centre, and your gut started squeezing you from the inside out.

Dark hair tied up into a bun, half of it hanging to his shoulders, he looked like he always did. Fucking unreal. He was dressed so simply, black sweater blending into the darkness. He got prettier each time you laid eyes on him. So fucking beautiful and you hated him for it.

His eyes were on yours, thick lips parted in shock, and it was cruel how your heart leapt out of your chest, as if you hadn’t been training to tame it all this while. The last time you saw him… flashed through your mind, memories pricking at you like a hundred thousand needles stabbing into your body. He left you, before you even had a chance. He didn’t even know you loved him.

You’d been trying so hard to move on, but here he fucking was, the one place you didn’t think he could be.

But you needed to be strong, for Kairi. This was all for her, and she was your saving grace. So you looked away from him, even if it took all of your fucking willpower. Your gaze found Chan, and suddenly the noises were back. The party was raging, the river was loud, the forest full of cacophony. Chan was saying your name repeatedly, and you’d tuned out completely. So had Hyunjin it seemed…because he snapped back to reality, a click going off in his head, and turned to his friend.

Chan stepped closer to you, “You’re Y/N…?”

You nodded, no words escaping at him recognising you. You’d been recognised. Of course you had. You and Hyunjin had been fucking staring at each like fools. It was a dead giveaway.

“I need to see her, Y/N.”

You ignored the peripheral gaze burning in the side of your face. Don’t fucking look at him. You stared right at Chan, “Chan, I can’t…”

“There’s something I need to say to her…and after that I’ll leave, I promise you” There was desperation in his voice, one you’d felt all these months.

It was the most difficult thing to not look at Hyunjin, when he was fucking staring at you. He’d always had your entire attention, any room he was in but right now you couldn’t afford to do that. It was so hard for you to ignore him, but it had been so easy for him before. You could do that to him too.

“I don’t know. She’s…really upset” You turned around, glancing over at the dock, then back at him, “Why tonight? She wants to talk to you, but—”

“I know you’re just trying to do right by her. Something I should have been doing all this time” He closed his eyes, “I understand if you’re gonna ask me to leave, but I promise you. If she says she doesn’t wanna see me, I’ll walk right out.”

You shook your head, guilt overwhelming you, “Chan—”

He continued speaking over you, “But if you’ve ever been in love, or…or loved someone, you’d understand why this is so fucking important to me”

You stared at him, lost for words. If you’d ever been in love…?

Hyunjin’s gaze on you was stronger than ever. It burned you.

He had said nothing this whole time. What was he thinking? You wanted to climb into his brain, read his mind and know what he thought of this question. Did Hyunjin have any fucking idea how much you loved him? You were so stupid crazy in love, you missed his silence too. And did Chan even understand the significance of what he was asking you? All of your emotions were cascading on top of each other, and the sane part of you was drowning in the waves. It was hard to speak, but you finally found the words, “She’s… by the docks. You can find her there”

They were the right words because Chan’s eyes lit up instantly, a smile spreading on his face, and he was beautiful like this, a warmth and comfort emanating from him. He was prettier when happy, and it looked like he couldn’t believe you’d said yes, “Thank you. Shit, thank you, Y/N. You’re an angel” He turned to Hyunjin, “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Hyunjin asked him. His voice sent shivers down your spine.

“No, I…got this” Chan swallowed, and he suddenly looked nervous and doubtful of this.

Hyunjin stepped close to him, voice dropping, “It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine”

Chan nodded, eyes closed, “I’m just…fucking anxious. What if she asks me to leave?”

“Channie” Hyunjin repeated, in a low voice, hand landing on his shoulder, “I’m right here if you need me, okay?”

He took a deep breath, and Hyunjin pulled him into a half-hug. You stood by, unsure what to do, staring at them. You were still trying to wrap your head around whatever the fuck was happening right now. In seconds, Chan took off towards the dock, where you’d told him Kairi was. You watched his retreating figure, hoping you made the right choice. He seemed genuinely apologetic, for whatever had went down between him and her.

His departure… left you and Hyunjin by the bonfire. Just by yourselves. So, you finally looked at him.

He was staring at you.

In the glow of the embers, Hyunjin looked almost sinister, he looked dangerous in the way that you wanted him, even now. Dark shadows cutting across his face, he’d only grown more into the version of him you’d ran into the storage closet. Taller stature, stronger arms, piercing gaze.

You suddenly felt conscious…being in this tiny swimsuit, and your arms came up around yourself to cover up somehow. It hurt too much to see him this close, after everything that had happened. You’d been giving up your soul to forget him, and he’d just decided to show up, now? It was unfair. You had to be the bigger person here, and you were going to leave. You didn’t owe him a conversation, not after he’d shown you how easy it was for him to forget all about existence.

So, you turned to walk away, but then Hyunjin spoke, “I didn’t know you were going to be here”

At first, you almost didn’t hear him, over the music, over the laughter, over the river. You stopped in your tracks, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing he’d never spoken.

You didn’t look at him as you mumbled, “Yeah…you wouldn’t be here if you knew”

It came out more venomous than you wanted, and you didn’t wait to see his reaction. But he asked you, “What are you doing here then?”

You turned to look at him, and fuck it hurt every bit of you. You hope you had a stable tone, arms crossed across your chest, because how the hell could he ask you that? “I’m… kind of the host”

His eyes widened, genuine surprise in it, “You are…?”

Well, he would’ve known that if he’d let you be in his life. Why had he pushed you away? Why had he not even tried to keep in touch with you? Was cutting off all contact the only way he knew how?

“I have to go” You mumbled, feeling hurt all over again, “There’s drinks in the corner if you want”

Hyunjin began to say something, but he was stopped because somebody yelled your name, interrupting whatever he could have said. What was Hyunjin going to say?

Jeonghan ran over to you, laughing, oblivious to everything around him, “You know Sohee’s going around saying you abandoned her during the game?"

You blinked, looking up at him, “She knew we weren’t going to win anyway”

He laughed loudly, and he was clearly tipsy by the way he talked, “What can I say? You’re a very wanted woman tonight, like five people stopped to ask me where you were. Also, you do remember that you’re the only person I know at this party? You can’t just leave me alone. I might actually end up missing you”

“Right, I forgot” You stifled a smile, “I was doing something for Kairi. Speaking of which…you left her alone?”

“I’m sorry…” He sighed, “There was this dude that wanted to talk to her…she asked me to leave them. And, I did not come tonight to babysit her. I’ve only met her like one time!”

You laughed, “Really? It is her birthday, Nate. What did you come here for then? ”

He shook his head, smiling, “Oh, being coy suits you, Y/N. It’s sexy”

“What?” You laughed. Before you could even register it, he wrapped his arms around you, picking you up in a little spin and twirl. A surprised noise escaped you, and your hands came to brace yourself against his bare chest. He was grinning at you, completely oblivious to the fact that someone was watching you. You almost forgot where you were, and who was watching, a giggle escaping you. “Nate—” You mumbled, pulling away, hands on his chest.

“What?” He frowned, and only then he saw Hyunjin standing there, watching all of this take place. “Oh…hey, man” Jeonghan smiled at him, “Wow…you are way too overdressed for this party. Take your shirt off or something”

Hyunjin’s gaze was on the arm around your waist. There was an unrecognisable emotion in his eyes. You’d seen jealousy on him before and this wasn’t it. This… was something else entirely. An emotion so intense that you felt scared of what he was holding inside.

He was frowning, furrow in his forehead, and then he glanced at you, a sudden indifference in his voice, “Where did you say the drinks were again?”

You swallowed, “By the cabins…”

“Oh, I can show you” Jeonghan offered, and you wish he wasn’t so nice to everybody.

Hyunjin’s brows shot up at the suggestion, and you were afraid he’d say something mean, but of course Hyunjin wasn’t mean, so he forced a smile, “Cool. Sure”

Jeonghan began walking away with him, and your grip on his hand was tight, you yanked him back, whispering, “What do you think you’re doing?”

He smiled, whispering back, “Relax. Just showing some hospitality. Also I think that guy’s famous”

You sighed, closing your eyes, because he was impossible to argue with, “Fine, but…get me a drink too”

“Will do” He grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. You watched them walk away, and you could hear Jeonghan say, “I’m Nate by the way, only she’s allowed to call me Jeonghan. Don’t ask me why though”

You couldn’t pick up on what Hyunjin said in response and you itched to know, but…you had to hold back. You stood still, feet rooted to the sand as Jeonghan led Hyunjin to the cabins, and the coolers that lay there, filled with beers. You couldn’t watch for long, because somebody grabbed your arm, turning you around, “Why are you by yourself?” Sohee, from the volleyball game asked, “Come on, you can dance with us!”

“I’m not in the mood, sorry” You apologised, walking away from the fire. What would they talk about? You hope Jeonghan didn’t bring up how miserable and depressed you’d been this whole time. Would Hyunjin talk about youto him? Would he ask him what you and Jeonghan were? Did he…even care?

Sohee laughed, “What? Shut up. You’re dancing with us. You already ditched us in the game”

“I think I’m just gonna go get a drink” You tried to decline, as politely as you could, without being a spoilsport or a downer. She stopped you, hand on your wrist, “What’s wrong?”

“I just…don’t wanna dance. I’m sorry” You gently pulled your arm out of her grip, walking nearer to the river. You could already feel it. All of the progress you’d made all these months was reversing. You were going back in time against your will. What had all this happiness been for, if it was just going to be ripped from you in an instant? How could you ever fucking say you moved on when seeing him for a second changed your mind?

You thought you were stronger than this, but you were so fucking weak, falling back into an emotion you didn’t need. Self-loathing and sadness and wishing you were enough for him was staring you in the eyes, and you thought you’d left it all behind. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You…had plans, to feel better, to move the fuck on. Kairi and Chan were nowhere to be seen, and it was past midnight already. She hadn’t even cut the birthday cake yet. You’d made Jeonghan drive you all the way to that special bakery for nothing. Why would Chan show up uninvited on such a special night? Why the fuck would he bring Hyunjin with him?

You ran your hands over your face. Every breath was harder to catch, and you felt like you’d pass out if you stayed standing. A tear slipped into your mouth, and you tasted the glitter mascara that Kairi had put on you. Kairi. You were going to find her…and you’d make sure she still had a good night, regardless of her ex gatecrashing the fucking party. Chan was a lovely person, you’re sure he was, but this was not the time. If he wanted to come so bad, he should’ve just come alone and not brought Hyunjin.

You looked back towards the fire, where Sohee was twirling around with the others, laughing loudly, so drunk and so happy. Jeonghan was back there too, he stood watching the girls dance, but Hyunjin wasn’t with him.

Did he leave? Where was he?

Your eyes scanned the crowd so fast, trying to place him amongst the crowd.

“I thought you hate beer”

You jumped, startled by the sound.

Hyunjin stood behind you, holding a beer bottle in his hand, extended out to you. How had you missed him walking over to you?

“What?”

He seemed confused, hand outstretched, “You…hated beer, right?”

“What are you doing?”

He shrugged, nonchalant, “You asked Nate to bring you a drink. He…wanted to dance instead, he asked me to bring it to you”

You laughed, bitterly, “And what, you work for him now?”

Why the fuck would he willingly approach you? After forcing you to get out of his life? Pretending like everything was normal? Acting like he hadn’t devastated you entirely, and broken you down. He didn’t even apologise for the way he’d kissed you and pushed you away. He still didn’t fucking realise what he meant to you, and he never would.

Hyunjin’s tongue poked his cheek, and he said, “No. I was trying to be away from the crowd”

You released a breath, “Well, congratulations, now you are. I’m gonna go”

“Wait—” He called out.

You stopped, “What, Hyunjin?”

He swallowed, “Aren’t you gonna take your drink?”

You should walk away from this conversation right fucking now, but you felt angry. Did he know you’d been suffering so much because of him? Did he know you’d given up on love and resigned yourself to a miserable fucking existence, because of him? How could he act so normal?

“You know what?” You forced a smile, “You can have it. You’ve already ruined tonight for Kairi. You might as well for me too”

“Excuse me?” His features contorted into a frown, as if he couldn’t believe you were bringing it up, “It wasn’t my idea to show up here”

“So what…you came as moral support or something?”

“Chan needed me” He stated, with finality.

“Well” You laughed, “You’re a great friend then. Are you even allowed to be at this party? Isn’t that gonna be a problem for you?”

His lips were in a thin line, “You’re angry”

“No” You laughed, so bitter, so petty, “Just concerned. Actually I am gonna take that drink” You grabbed it out of his hands, pulling with more force than needed, making sure none of your fingers touched any of his. Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed, and he would hate you now if he didn’t already, but that was fine. He didn’t want you anyway.

Jeonghan’s yell interrupted you two, “Y/N! Come on. It’s your favourite song!”

You turned back to them, realising that indeed a song you’d liked in a club once was playing. It wasn’t your favourite song, far from it, but you wanted to be away from Hyunjin. You were losing yourself so near him.

So you glanced at Hyunjin, lifted the beer bottle to your lips, and drops of alcohol dripped down your neck and chest, into your bikini top, messily, “Thanks for the drink”

Jeonghan basically pulled you into the circle, as the chorus came on. You let him. You chugged the rest of the beer, because there was no way you were doing this sober anymore. Jeonghan was fucking tipsy, so he spun you around, and if it wasn’t for his arm around you, you’d fall over into the sand. Somebody handed you a shot of tequila, and you drank that too. The music was loud enough so you couldn’t think, EDM beats playing over and over, making your heart vibrate against your ribs. You wanted to laugh, because everything was so horrible. Sohee was a good hype girl, cheering on for you, grinding her hips against a taller boy, and everyone was lost in the music.

As the song picked up tempo, your hands met Jeonghan’s and he helped you move with an exhilarating speed and you couldn’t even breathe, head spinning. He wasn’t a great dancer, but he was holding you tight, moving your body against his, and it was good to feel desired, “You look so fucking sexy” Jeonghan mumbled into your ear, “You should wear pink more often”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s red…Nate”

“Huh. Maybe I should get a closer look at it then”

“What?” You laughed as he suddenly leaned in, kissing your neck, and collarbones. His other hand dropped to your ass, squeezing it tightly. You couldn’t find it in you to feel shy because nobody was looking at you anyway. Everybody was too busy dancing, or too drunk. Hyunjin had probably realised his mistake and long left. You hope he’d fucking left. You didn’t want to see him again tonight. In the centre of the circle, Jeonghan was bent over you, pressing kisses to your body. Your arms rest on his biceps, as he kissed your neck, “You’re so beautiful when you laugh. I wish you were happier like this more often”

Oh, the irony. If only he knew you’d never been this sad in your life before. Knowing Hyunjin was here, so close yet so far. He was here, but he wasn’t here with you. What was the point…of anything? Weeks and months of moving on. Everything was useless. Hyunjin had to be there, everytime, haunting you like a demon, following in your shadows for the rest of your life.

“Y/N…” Jeonghan asked, head buried in your neck, realising you were standing still, deadweight, “What’s wrong?”

You’d gone on a date, you had a friend you casually made out with, you were in the best art studio in your country. You were so unhappy. What was the point?

It was like there a string on his chest, tying him to you, bringing you together even when you couldn’t be. Even when he didn’t want to be.

“Nothing” You swallowed, tears shooting up to your eyes, “Can you just kiss me and not ask me anything?”

He frowned, and it was hard to hear him over the loud music, “No…Y/N. Tell me if you’re okay. Do you want some air? Water?”

“I just want you to kiss me and not ask why”

So, almost reluctantly, he did. He leaned in, pressing his mouth to yours and you hoped it’d distract you. You wanted to get lost in it, and you brought your palms up to his face, to his hair, running through it. You’d never kissed him for so long, or with so much emotion. It had always been so casual, for fun, no strings, nothing.

For just a second, you opened your eyes. You wish you hadn’t.

Over Jeonghan’s shoulder, there was a direct line of sight to Hyunjin.

He was still standing by the river, staring out into the darkness, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other lifting a beer bottle to his lips. He was still here. Right where you’d left him.

Why wouldn’t he leave? There was a path straight to him, people parted like the red sea, the taut string of fate between you working harder than ever.

You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on kissing the boy who actually cared for you, but when your eyes flickered open again, Hyunjin was watching you.

It should have been obvious, but you were still surprised…to see him stare. Your heart hurt so much you thought you’d collapse. He didn’t want you in his life anymore. He’d made it plenty clear.

Then why did he look so fucking sad watching you kiss another man?

The party was raging, you were dying. Each press to Jeonghan’s lips made you sick. He kept spinning you around, and you were getting dizzy. Every few seconds, your eyes would fall on Hyunjin. Everything but him was blurred. Your insides hurt, and he was looking at you and you were looking at him but you were dancing with another man. Was this how it felt like to be dying? Jeonghan was giggling about something, and he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. You didn’t hear it, because Hyunjin had turned away from you now, like all of this was beneath him. As if being here was the greatest inconvenience of his life.

He was walking away. He’d probably had enough of your dancing.

He’d had enough of you.

“Y/N…hello?” Jeonghan snapped a finger in front of your face.

“I’m going to be sick” You mumbled.

His eyes widened, “What? Did you drink too much?”

“No. I just…I need some air” You stepped back from him.

“Should I come with you?”

“I’m fine” You shook your head, looking around, “You should dance with Sohee…till I’m back. ”

Before he could protest or respond, you walked away, towards the river. Kairi was nowhere to be found, at her own birthday party. It was all his fault. You had to go find her. What if she had a fight with Chan and needed you?

The alcohol had gotten to your head. You shouldn’t have chugged that beer, and that tequila and that last shot of vodka. Slowly, but steadily you made your way towards the dock. Her birthday cake was rotting in the car. Was it so hard to ask for just one good night?

He had to ruin that too, just like he’d ruined the idea of love for you. You could never love anybody, ever again, not in this same way.

You walked until you caught up to him. Thankfully, there was nobody else here. Everybody was either in the cabins, or dancing. Hyunjin was pacing back and forth, on his fucking phone as if he was too good for this place. The question left your mouth before you could rethink it, “What does Chan want?”

He looked up at you, eyes drifting over your figure briefly, voice small, “What?”

“It’s been an hour. She’s not back yet” You stated, as if it was obvious, “In case you didn’t know, she turned twenty-four today, and this entire party is for her. So why is he here, Hyunjin?” You stepped closer to him.

He clicked his phone off, the number he never shared with you, and put it in his pocket, “Um… I don’t know if it’s my discretion to tell you”

You stared at him. You were so past begging to be included in his life. You nodded, a scoff escaping, “Yeah, sorry I asked. I don’t know what I was thinking”

Turning towards the dock, you only made it about five steps away from Hyunjin when he called out, “Wait—I didn’t mean it like that”

You turned to face him, and there was fire in your eyes, there was fire in your veins, “Then what did you mean, Hyunjin?”

Something flashed through his eyes when you said his name, like he also couldn’t believe he was talking to you. “Um. Do you… remember what I told you at the Château?” He asked. The familiarity of those memories flooded through you, like a tsunami. You remembered every single word, you remember each breath he took, each touch. You remember every ridge and curve in his hand, as he held yours. You remembered how many times he pressed his lips to yours, and how loud he’d moaned when you touched him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

Hyunjin tilt his head, “About… how they’ve been together for two years now? About how Chan had planned to ask Kairi to marry him…on her birthday?”

Your eyes narrowed as the realisation sank into you, “You’re kidding me. Is that what he’s doing right now? He’s literally going to ruin her—”

Hyunjin stepped forward, “No, he’s not doing that! But he just needed to talk to her about it. He’s just here to make things right with her” He explained, emphasising each word.

“Why?”

Hyunjin seemed confused, “Why, what?”

“Why now? He couldn’t have picked another day?” You sounded so harsh, but you didn’t care. Yeah, maybe you were pissed that Chan was willing to go to all this fucking effort for the girl he loved. But nobody would ever make any effort for you. You were pissed that Kairi was the one good thing you had left, but now Hyunjin’s life was ripping her away from you too.

He didn’t seem fazed though, and he seemed just as confused as you, “I don’t know, Y/N! I tried to talk him out of it. That it wasn’t a good idea”

You scoffed, crossing your arms, “Well you clearly didn’t do a good job, because he’s here right now anyway”

“What do you want me to do? I tried my best!”

“Well, you should have tried harder, Hyunjin!”

He let out a deep breath, running a hand over his face, “Why are you fighting me?”

You took a step back, “Right. I forgot I’m not allowed to be near you”

His eyes narrowed, “Excuse me?”

“Never mind. I’m going to go see if she’s okay or if she needs me”

He frowned, stepping in front of you, “You can’t just interrupt them. What if they’re having a moment?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. This was a fucking disaster, “He better not be proposing”

Hyunjin’s voice dropped, “Why? Wouldn’t you be happy for them?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Hyunjin. I would be happy. Obviously I’d be fucking happy. But Kairi loves him too much. She told me everything that happened. She would just get hurt again when he chooses the company over her.”

Hyunjin was quiet, eyes flickering over yours, voice dropping, “Is… that what you think I did?”

Your voice had lost its energy too, and you stared at him, “I’m not talking about—”

“Because that’s not what I did, Y/N”

You looked up at him, but you were shaking, “This is about her, not me”

He didn’t say anything. For a few seconds, you were both just staring at each other.

He sighed and chose to speak first, “Chan would never hurt her. Their decision to break up was mutual”

Unlike how things happened with you. “Yeah. I understand”

“It’s not just you. I’m worried about Chan too” He ran a hand through his hair. This was not the time to create a scene in public, so you curbed your anger, shoving it deep inside. He cared about Chan, and you cared about Kairi. That’s the only reason you were still here, and still talking to him. It was the only fucking reason you’d talk to him tonight.

“I can’t believe it’s her birthday and she’s not even here” You mumbled, “All of this was for nothing then. I hope she’s not upset or crying somewhere in a corner”

For the first time this night, Hyunijn looked a tad guilty, brows furrowing, “Do you want to go check on them…?”

You hugged yourself tighter, the wind was picking up quickly, “I thought you just said we can’t interrupt them”

“We won’t”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“Isn’t there another place we can see the docks from…without interrupting them? To see how they’re doing…”

You ran a mental image of the campgrounds in your head, “Yeah, there is…”

And so, Hyunjin followed you.

There was a clearing in the forest, a thick cover of trees that looked right out onto the docks. You’d seen it back when you came to scope out of the place with Kairi. You were taking him there. You focused on the sound of your footsteps, and on the party you were leaving behind.

“So…what changed? Why did he pick today?” You surprised yourself by speaking first.

Hyunjin seemed surprised too, and he glanced at you, “Um…I don’t really know. We were working on a few songs last night…and it’s like Chan had some great epiphany”

“Oh”

There were people swimming in the Han river, some of them were skinny dipping too, and Hyunjin averted his eyes as you passed them. It was so strange to be here, and talk to him, like everything was okay. His tall frame so close to you again, and he took longer strides than you but right now he was slowing down to keep up. You made sure there was enough distance between the two of you so your arms wouldn’t accidently brush. It was funny. Months ago, you used to pray for this to happen, to be alone with him, to have a reason to talk to him, and to accidently touch him.

You tried to look for Chan and Kairi against the landscape, but they were too far so all you had was to settle for Hyunjin’s momentary glances on you. “You’re good at these” He suddenly said.

“Sorry?” You looked at him.

He looked around, making a noncommittal gesture, “Birthday parties. You planned everything, right?”

“I guess. It wasn’t all me”

“You…always outdo yourself”

You looked up at him, from the corner of your eye, “I had help. I didn’t organise it on my own”

“I know…but I’ve seen how passionate you are about these things. The food…the music…it’s all very you”

You swallowed, wondering why he was deciding to be civil all of a sudden, or maybe he’d been civil all along and you were the one creating a fucking scene, “Thank you…”

“It reminds me of the beach party, for Felix’s birthday. That one…was so good too”

“Well, at least if things don’t work out with my art, maybe I can become a party planner” You mumbled.

Hyunjin laughed. He actually laughed. It was between a giggle and a chuckle and you looked up at him in surprise. He covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to agree with you. Things will obviously work out. You’re a great artist”

You couldn’t handle seeing him like this. Eyes crinkled, a real smile. Was he not miserable without you? You looked back at your feet, arms crossed over your chest, “Yup”

“So…is he your boyfriend?”

You looked up, “Sorry?”

Hyunjin seemed nonchalant as he asked, “Nate. The boy you were dancing with” His eyebrows were knitted together, as if he actually even cared if that was your boyfriend or not.

“We’re here” You told him, choosing not to answer, pointing to a clearing in the trees, “You can see the dock right through there”

Hyunjin stepped ahead, forest leaves crunching under his feet as he did so. There was a pile of rocks and big boulders overlooking the river. Your view was being blocked by them, and you couldn’t see anything from here.

“I’m just gonna climb up and check if we can see anything from there” He told you, and before you could tell him it was a bad idea, Hyunjin jumped up, easily climbing onto a boulder. It looked so easy for him.

You stood at the bottom, trying to warm yourself. You should have brought a coverup because the wind here was so strong, and you were half-naked. From where Hyunjin stood, he must have a clear view of the entire campground, a good vantage point…for spying on people, like you were now. He could see over the bushes, and you couldn’t, so you asked him, “Can you see them?”

Hyunjin responded, eyes in the distant, “Yeah I can”

“And…? Does she look upset? Are they fighting?”

Hyunjin was silent. You couldn’t see anything from down here, and you were frustrated. “Hyunjin…?” You whisper-yelled.

“Come up. You can see for yourself” He suggested, very unhelpful.

“I’m not wearing shoes. I can’t climb up rocks”

“I’ll help you” He said, turning to face you.

You looked up at him, and his hand was extended out to you. Did you really want his help? But you wanted to see for yourself. You didn’t trust him in the moment. So, you gave in, “Okay”

You grabbed his hand, only for the support, but a bolt of lightning travelled through you, through your entire body. You felt on fire, hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart skipped beats, and all you were doing was touching Hyunjin’s hand. It was so warm. His palm was baby-soft, like he’d been taking good care of himself, of his skin.

You tried not to let the shivers affect you. He bent down and mumbled, “Keep your foot here, and I’ll help with the rest okay?”

You climbed up onto a ledge, with sharp rocks jutting out, “If you drop me…”

“I won’t”

“Here goes nothing” You mumbled, keeping your foot on the ledge for balance, hoping you didn’t fall and embarrass yourself. Hyunjin pulled you up, tugging at your arm. You stood head-on, face inches from his. On this tiny boulder, there was barely any space for the two of you. Hyunjin clearly hadn’t calculated for that when he asked you to join him. Because now, you were pressed to each other, and his hand was on your bare waist, gripping you tightly so you won’t fall. Fuck, you’d really put yourself in this situation willingly.

“Shit. I’m so sorry” He realised, leaving his hold on you once you’d found your balance.

You were breathing heavy. Your eyes searched his, and his gaze was so familiar. Half-lidded eyes, dark hair falling into his forehead, lips pink...and plush up close. He was so beautiful, and his body was warm.

His eyes fell to your body, noting the goosebumps on your chest, “You’re shivering”

“I’m fine”

“Take my sweater”

“Hyunjin…”

He didn’t let you finish and took off his dark woolen sweater. Inside, he was in a simple long-sleeved t-shirt that hugged him tightly. It was almost too small on him, and you could see the shape of his body through it. He handed you the warm sweater, and it was soft to the touch. You slipped it on over your bikini, and it smelled like him too.

He nodded, jutting his head towards the dock, “Um. There they are”

You turned, trying to balance on the little space you had to stand, peering through the trees.

“Can you see them?” Hyunjin asked, maintaining a sliver of distance between you, as he tried to look over your shoulder. You could see them. Kairi and Chan sat at the edge of the dock, legs hanging off into the water. They weren’t touching, but they were sitting close together. They were talking about something, passionately, because you could hear hints of their voices all the way here.

“What…are they doing? They’re just…talking”

“Yeah” Hyunjin said, a puff of cold air leaving his mouth, “I guess they had a lot to catch up on”

Your heart clenched. You knew how much she loved him. “She missed him a lot…” You admitted.

Hyunjin glanced at you, and then back at them, “Yeah? He did too…he’s been in a lot of talks with the company”

“About what?”

His expression changed at your curiosity, “It’s not important, Y/N”

You frowned, even more curious now, “Tell me, Hyunjin”

He sighed, “It was… just about ensuring her security, in case they got back together, and even if they didn’t. Tracking down and suing the people that sent her the threats”

A flicker of hope lit up in you, for them, “Wasn’t that the only reason they weren’t together? Because of Kairi’s safety?”

Hyunjin looked at you, empty, downcast eyes, “No, when I came back to the city, they’d been having a lot of…arguments, and fights. I would hear Chan on the phone with her till the morning hours, just…arguing, about anything and everything. They weren’t even angry at each other, they were just frustrated because…he could barely give her time. It sucked, kind of felt like I’m a kid listening to my parents fall apart, you know? Watching their relationship fail right in front of me. The nights they stayed up arguing, Chan would show up to practice the next morning unmotivated and unfocused. It was affecting his work a lot. He was barely able to be creative”

You watched the side of his face, as he told you the tale of how this line of work had pulled Chan and Kairi apart. “So…what’s going to change now? Won’t they just go back to fighting?”

Hyunjin shrugged, “I don’t know. Things will never change. But I’m not gonna be the one to take away his hope”

“You really think that…?”

He looked at you, gaze piercing yours, “What?”

“That things are always going to be bad, that they won’t get better?”

“I don’t think that. I know it”

Your heart dropped, offended at the negativity he possessed, “Would it kill you to be a little more positive?”

He swallowed, looking right at you, “Me being positive is not gonna bring them back together”

Now he’d given up on his own best friend’s relationship too, what chance did you stand? You glanced back at Kairi and Chan, breath hitching in your throat at the sight. His hand was on her face now, caressing her, and he had inched closer. They looked…ethereal against the river and the moon.

“It just might” You mumbled. Chan was whispering something to her now, nose brushing against hers. It was so intimate, you suddenly felt like a voyeur.

Hyunjin inhaled, realising it at the same time as you, “We…shouldn’t watch this”

“We… shouldn’t have watched any of it”

You turned, and Hyunjin had already jumped back onto the sandy terrain, and you wished you were as athletic as him. He made it look so easy. He was holding his hands out to you, “I got you”

You stared at him, and the way his hands were ready to catch you. He was wearing the same jewellery he always did, the same rings as the night he kissed you for the first time, and told you that you shouldn’t be worried because he wasn’t going anywhere. That all felt far too fabricated a lie now. Were any of those things he said true?

“I can get down on my own” You said, rejecting his offer to hold you, to touch you again.

“Are you sure?” He frowned, hands dropping to his side.

“Yup” You weren’t going to ask him for help again, so carefully, you stepped down, one foot on the ledge, trying to balance your weight out.

Hyunjin was watching carefully, and maybe it was good, because you fucking slipped. Bare feet and rock climbing was not a good mix. One second, the rock was firm underneath you, the other it was gone. A yelp escaped you, but in half a second Hyunjin had stepped forward, catching you in his grip. He had you pressed you to the rocks, grip strong around your body, “Fuck. Are you okay?”

You couldn’t even find it in you to be embarrassed, staring up at him. There was no space between your bodies, and the moonlight fell right on him and his stupidly perfect face. You tried to catch your breath, but he was crushing you to the rocks. You couldn’t even breathe. Your hair fell in front of your face, and Hyunjin’s gaze flickered over it, as if he was itching to fix it. His hands dug into the fabric of the knit sweater, fingers poking in the holes, and his other hand…lay dangerously close to your ass, resting just at the end of your bikini.

So you still could feel like this again, like you would explode from human touch. You hadn’t felt this alive in the longest time, each nerve ending firing at full capacity. This is what attraction felt like, not what you had with your date in the bar, not what you felt when you kissed your friend. Your eyes searched his, for any remorse or guilt for what he’d done to you. You found none.

"Please let go of me”

“What?”

“Let go of me, Hyunjin”

He dropped his hands from you immediately, hurt flashing through his eyes, and a part of you was happy he could still display that emotion. He’d been fauxing his emotions the entire night so well, he’d pushed them all aside, and you hated that. Why couldn’t he admit he missed you? He stepped back, apologetic, “I’m sorry. I just…wanted to make sure you were okay”

“I’m fine” You side-stepped him, walking back to the campgrounds through the trees. Hyunjin was quiet, and he followed you, a few steps behind. You knew because you could hear his breaths, and his footsteps against the crunching leaves.

After some minutes, he spoke, “Y/N…”

“I don’t want to talk to you” You were walking away from him, as fast as you could, hoping to put some distance between you.

“Y/N…you’re bleeding”

You stopped, “What?”

He stood a few steps behind, watching you, “Your leg. I think you…you cut yourself on the rock. The…branches”

You had far too much pride in the moment to even check if he was right. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t hurt” You mumbled, and began walking back towards the party again.

“It could get infected”

“Can you just stop talking, please? I can take care of myself”

“I’m sure you can. I’m just worried about you”

“Why are you even here?” You turned, walking back to him so you could be closer. Each step against the grass did hurt now. You must have cut yourself really bad, because the dirt was burning your wound, but you weren’t going to show your weakness, not right now. You were so far from the rest of the party, otherwise anybody would have been able to hear you arguing. You were thankful everybody else was distracted and having an actual good time, unlike you.

He frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why the fuck are you here? I didn’t invite you to this party. I want you to leave”

His eyes narrowed, “I’m not leaving Chan alone”

You let out a frustrated sigh, “He’s with Kairi, and they seem to be doing great without you!”

“You’re hurt…” He spoke, calm as fucking ever. Why couldn’t he just express himself, like he used to? Why was he wearing a shield?

“As if that matters to you. The damage is done. I knew it wasn’t a good idea” You were talking about the cut on your leg, but of course you fucking weren’t.

He squeezed his eyes shut, “Just please let me take a look at it. I don’t want you to get hurt”

“It’s too late for that, Hyunjin”

He reached out, grabbing your arm with more force than you expected, to pull you closer, “Y/N. Stop fighting me. I’m not letting you go without making sure you’re all right”

The authority in his voice shocked you. You’d never heard Hyunjin so determined before, so aggressive. His eyes were narrowed, and his grip on your arm was strong but not tight enough to hurt you. You swallowed, wanting to suddenly cry because you were in so much pain and he was the reason for it all, “Fine”

His grip relaxed on you, and he let out a breath as if it was hurting him too. He looked around, eyes landing on the glass house hidden between the trees, “Can you walk till there?”

“Yeah”

You only felt a little shameful, walking over to the cabin, and you hope nobody was fucking in there or anything. Hyunjin pushed open the door, stepping inside, rummaging through the drawers and cabinets.

“Everything’s empty” He mumbled, a frustrated look in his eyes.

You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, “Yeah. It’s a vacation rental, so there’s not gonna be any personal belongings. Maybe you could check in the bedroom”

He sighed, walking through the open doorway into the bedroom. The house was so…modern, and fancy, with large glass windows that faced the river. You could imagine how nice it’d be to spend the night here. There was an open four-claw white bathtub, and clearly this room was designed for sex. Why else would there be a tub in here? Hyunjin seemed impatient as he opened every cupboard, pulling open the drawers with gold knobs.

“Found anything?”

He shook his head, “No…just condoms”

“Oh…”

“And a bottle of…lube” He chuckled, turning to look at you, arms crossed as he leaned against the dresser, “Yeah. nice planning. There’s no first aid kits, anywhere?”

“I don’t know” You sighed, “I wasn’t exactly planning on climbing up rocks”

Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, “Right. Can you sit down?”

The bedsheets were nicely made, you didn’t want to ruin it but you were in pain now. You sat at the edge of it, hands in your lap. You had on Hyunjin’s sweater on top, but under that…you were still just in your bikini, legs bare. He knelt down on the floor, lifting your leg up in his hands. A wave of deja vu overwhelmed you. This position… reminded you of Felix’s birthday party. Almost the exact same thing had happened, when San had broken a beer bottle and Hyunjin had been worried about you. You stayed quiet, letting him probe around. The cut was near your Achilles heel, which explained why it hurt so much. Tenderly, he touched the skin around it, “Does this hurt?”

You nodded, biting your lip, “Yeah. It hurts.”

He sighed, looking up at you, intense gaze, “It’s…not that deep a cut, but…you shouldn’t go in the river or anything. It could get infected”

“So I’ll be fine? We’re done here?”

He let go of your leg so you could put it down, “Yeah”

Clearing his throat, he got up to walk to the door.

You stared after him, “You’re leaving?”

“There’s a store a few miles from here. I’ll get you a bandaid”

“What? You’re gonna drive all the way for that. That’s stupid. It’s…an hour away”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking for your permission, is it?” He mumbled, pushing the door to walk back outside the house.

“Hyunjin” You groaned, getting up to follow him, “Wait! What are you doing?”

He threw his hands up, voice high, “I don’t know. What the hell do you want me to do?”

As if this was your fault, “Well, maybe don’t come to a party you’re not invited to. That would be a great start”

His voice shot up higher, “I’m sorry I fucked up, okay? I came here for Chan. I had no fucking idea you’d be here! I didn’t even know you knew Kairi, so how could I have guessed you’d be at her birthday party, Y/N?”

You swallowed, knowing he was right, frustrated tears rising up, “So you wouldn’t have come…if you knew I was here? I was right?”

He sighed, each word said so powerfully it cut through you, “Yes. It would have changed everything! I obviously would have preferred to stay home rather than watch you make out with your new boyfriend right in front of me!”

Your eyes widened, and it seemed like he instantly regret what he said.

He squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m sorry. I didn’t…mean to yell”

Hurried footsteps distracted you, and you turned to see Kairi walking up to you, confused gaze, “Hey. Why are you all the way here?”

“Kairi. Are you okay?” You asked, immediately embracing her, “I was looking for you earlier”

She nodded, “I am. I am. I just I got to talking with Chan, and we didn’t realise how much time had passed. I’m so sorry, oh my god. Does everybody hate me for abandoning my own party?”

You shook your head, pulling back to look at her, and you were happy to see that there were no tears, “No, no, they’re all having a good time. That doesn’t matter anyway, are you okay right now? Do you feel…okay?”

She nodded, “I am. Chan and me…we talked about a lot of shit. I’ll tell you everything”

“Where is he?” Hyunjin asked.

Kairi’s eyes widened at him, “Hwang fucking Hyunjin! What did I do to deserve the honor of you showing up to my party?”

He smiled at her, and it’s like his mood had changed instantly around her, “Happy birthday, Kairi”

She jumped into his arms, tackling him in a hug, “I missed you dumbass” He hugged her back, warmly, burying his head in her shoulder, “I missed you too, Kairi”

She pushed his hair out of his face, hands resting on his cheekbones, “You look fucking hot, Jinnie. It’s been a while”

His eyes sparkled at her, cheeks flushing, “I hope you’ve been taking care of yourself too”

Why couldn’t you be the one to get a reunion so warm? It was your fault for being bitter anyway, and for trying to start a fight with Hyunjin. You don’t even know what you were trying to do.

“I see you two have been reunited” Chan laughed, walking over to you. He glanced at you, a sheepish smile on his face, “I’m sorry about earlier, Y/N…”

“It’s okay…” You told him, “I get it. You really needed to see her”

He nodded, looking around the grounds, “So did I completely ruin the party?”

“No” Kairi shook her head, “I think most of them are too drunk to even notice I’m gone. Although…Y/N might be a little sad” She pouted at you, “You planned everything. I’m sorry it didn’t go accordingly”

You felt conscious, feeling all their eyes on you, “No, I only did it for you. If you’re happy…that’s enough for me”

Chan nodded, glancing at his wristwatch, “Fuck. It’s getting really late. We have a flight in the morning. Should we drop you guys home?”

They had a flight? To where? You shook your head to answer him, “No, that’s okay. I’m…going with Jeonghan”

Kairi giggled at his mention, “Your boy was passed the fuck out a few minutes ago. I think he drank too much. Eric said they’re gonna drive back in the morning, when they’re all sobered up. Do you wanna wait till then?”

It was almost three am, and you don’t think you could wait till dawn, “Oh…no I’ll just take a taxi home. I have class at eleven”

“A taxi from here to the city? Of course not. That’s not safe” She frowned. You forced a smile at Kairi, “Um. I’ll just take it in the morning then”

“That’s a terrible idea” Hyunjin mumbled.

“Just come with us?” Chan offered, and his voice was so sweet it was hard to say no, but they’d all known each other for years, and you’d feel too awkward riding with them, “I’m just…gonna go check with Nate, if that’s cool”

Chan nodded, casually, “Ah. We’ll be in the parking lot. Look for the black car”

You nodded, “Got it. Thanks Chan”

You glanced at Hyunjin, and he was already looking at you, arms crossed in front of his chest. He averted his gaze as soon as you caught him.

Back at the bonfire, Jeonghan was sitting in a beach chair, talking to a group of strangers. They must be locals who had rented some cabins. His face lit up when he saw you walk to him, “Where’d you get that sweater? Is there a mall here I don’t know about?”

“It’s just my friends” You told him, not in the mood to joke, bending down to be level at him, “Kairi said you passed out. Are you okay?”

He nodded, smiling, “I’m fine, Y/N. I just found out that these people went to the same high school as me, in LA. Isn’t that crazy?”

You glanced over, at some locals who were sat in a circle. The set-up seemed cozy, there was cider and hotdogs that lay between them, “Oh wow. It’s a small world” You told him, “Um, I came here to ask…Kairi was headed home, and she asked if I wanna come with. But I said I’ll stay with you, make sure you’re okay and everything”

Jeonghan’s lips tugged up into a smile, “Y/N. I’m more than okay. You seem tired, on the other hand. Maybe you should let Kairi take you home? I think I’ll chat here with them for an hour or so”

You nodded, biting your lip, “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you here alone”

He rolled his eyes, “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

You swallowed, “I’m just being a good friend, Nate”

He leaned ahead, pinching your cheek, “I know and so am I. Please, just get some sleep. You seem exhausted”

You sighed, dread filling you. This meant you’d have to ride with Hyunjin. “All right. I’ll…see you in class on Monday then?”

You got up, to leave but he tugged at your arm, voice dropping, “The boy from earlier. Was that…the guy we saw in the elevator…at Pegasus?”

You looked around, but nobody was listening, so you nodded, “Yeah. That was him”

Understanding settled in his features, “He was…looking at you the entire time he was here. When we were dancing…drinking. He...didn’t look away from you for a second”

“You saw that?”

“Mmh. Is that…the same guy you wanted to…Eternal Sunshine out of your mind?”

You smiled, the movie reference catching you off guard, “Yeah, but um, don’t tell anyone, please”

He grinned, imitating a zip over his mouth, “My lips are sealed”

»»————-

There was a black car in the parking lot. You found your shoes, and your jeans, abandoned by the check-in area at the campground, slipped them on and walked over to the car. The three of them stood there, and the trunk was open. Chan sat in the back, leg pulled up, sipping beer and Kairi was snuggled up to him. It was chilly out here. Hyunjin…stood across them, hands on his waist and they were laughing about something. He seemed so carefree when you weren’t there. His eyes were crinkled, and his laughter echoed in the open night.

His sweater on you was warm, and you felt shy and awkward as you made your way to them, “Hey”

Kairi’s eyes lit up, “Y/N! Nate isn’t coming?”

“He…said he wanted to stay a bit”

“Perfect. We were waiting for you, so we could cut the cake” Chan smiled.

“What?” You laughed, noticing the little bento cake sat neatly in the back of the trunk, “Here? Just...the four of us?”

“Mmh” Kairi nodded, “My favorite people ever. It’s perfect”

Your heart warmed, and nothing had gone to plan, but it wasn’t up to you, “Sure... Why not?”

She jumped up, standing next to you on the concrete as Chan opened the box carefully. He dug into his pockets for a lighter, and lit the candles. It was…definitely not the way you’d envisioned tonight, but this was about Kairi, and in a way…this was perfect.

Under the moonlight, in the empty parking lot, the glow of the candles was bright. Kairi leaned in, closing her eyes to make a wish, and then blew hard on the candles. Chan laughed loudly, singing a bad rendition of Happy Birthday, and you smiled at the sight.

It was strange how they found solace in each other, in an abandoned lot miles away from the nearest city. The celebration was small, much smaller than you’d planned…but it still felt complete. You hugged Kairi, arms tight around her, and she hugged Hyunjin after you. You wonder if your scent lingered on him, through her. He said something to make her laugh, and she teased him by smearing frosting on his cheek. Hyunjin gasped, dramatically, dipping his finger right into the cake.

“No, no, no!” Kairi laughed, hiding behind Chan. Chan rolled his eyes, “Jinnie. You’re not putting cake on her”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, laughing, “Relax…” Although clearly he’d been planning to do just that. Instead of putting it on her face, he licked his finger, tongue swirling around it.

Kairi got on her toes, pulling Chan in for a hug. You still don’t know what they talked about that made them so happy again, but you would have to be patient and she would tell you everything. For a few seconds, they just held each other, indulging in and enjoying each other’s embrace Your gaze drifted to Hyunjin. There was a small smile on his face, and shamelessly he watched them. You remember how much he loved Chan and Kairi. They were…the world to him. So… he must be the happiest right now.

Your own smile fell though, the longer you looked at Hyunjin. He must be cold, but he’d given you his sweater…it wasn’t much but it was everything right now. He made you crave him always, even when you were supposed to be so angry at him. The adoration in his eyes, the softness in his gaze…it used to be yours. He used to look at you like that, and you still didn’t understand what changed.

What happened to make him change towards you so drastically? Why didn’t he want you anymore? After the way you’d acted tonight, showing your immature, petty and vengeful side, he probably wouldn’t want to even…associate with you anymore. A wave of sadness hit you. Had your anger ruined any chance you had with him tonight?

But…why wouldn’t you be angry at him? You had every right. Or maybe…he’d just think of you as the bitchy ex-girlfriend for the rest of his life. You were an anecdote to tell his future lovers, a girl to mention in passing, someone he had a fling with one summer. To you, he was the entire world…but he’d never reciprocate the feeling. You’d ruined everything, because of your sadness. Tears shot up to your eyes, and you looked away.

You wish you never met Hyunjin. Your own thought killed you.

“Come on. We should get going, if we hope to make it to Seoul by dawn” Chan said, pulling away, hoarse voice.

“You’re not driving are you?” Kairi asked him, “There’s a lot I wanna talk to you about”

“She means she wants to get drunk with you in the backseat” Hyunjin laughed.

“Same difference” Kairi shrugged, and then turned to you, “You don’t mind riding shotgun, right? Hyunjin’s a good driver”

How did you end up in this situation anyway? You'd already told Kairi that you had no problem with Hyunjin. You'd already caused so much trouble tonight.

“Yeah. I don’t mind” You mumbled. Chan closed the trunk, after making sure the cake was secure, and you walked to the front. You didn’t even know they had their own cars. You’d always assumed their managers drove for them, but their company probably had no idea they were even here.

Huh. Hyunjin broke the rules for Chan. Just not for you.

You settled into the passenger seat, and Hyunjin sat next to you.

“Jinnie, you’re gonna have to adjust the seat for yourself” Chan told him, as he and Kairi settled comfortably in the backseat.

“Ah. The sins of being tall” Kairi joked. In the rear view mirror, you saw them immediately snuggle together, and Chan wrapped an arm around her, like they couldn’t bear to be apart. Must be nice. You were jittery, and anxious again, having Hyunjin in such close proximity to you. You rest your hand on the console, trying to not look at his side profile, trying to not think of how you were in his sweater over your wet swimsuit.

Chan moved ahead, hand landing on the back of your seat, “So, Y/N. Tell me more. Now that you’re finally here, I’d love to hear about you”

You bit your lip, “I’m sure you already know everything there is to know about me…”

A warm sensation made you jump, and you realised Hyunjin had accidentally placed his hand on top of yours, on the console between you.

“Sorry” He apologised, pulling his hand back.

“Um. It’s fine” You put your hands in your lap. You’d forgotten how warm and comforting his hand was. You wanted to hold it again, for the rest of the ride. Glancing in the rearview, Chan was saying something to Kairi, her face held in his big hands as he looked at her with so much love in his eyes. Perhaps this is why their car had blacked out windows.

“So…how long will it take us to get home, Jinnie?” He asked.

Hyunjin glanced at the GPS, that was above the console, “Says about three hours”

“Fuck. I’m definitely gonna fall asleep” Kairi laughed, and Chan nodded, “Me too”

Hyunjin reached into the glove compartment, taking out a pair of thin silver-rimmed glasses. He put them on, and you’d never seen him wear these before so these must be anti-glare, for the drive. Regardless…he looked suddenly ten times hotter than before, and you looked away. You would blame the alcohol for how attracted you felt to him in this moment.

“What are you waiting for, Jinnie?” Kairi asked him.

“Um. Car won’t start until everyone has their seatbelts in”

He glanced at you, and before you could even think, he had leaned over to your side, pulling your belt out of the hook. Your breath stopped as his face hovered over yours but his gaze was focused on the strap as he pulled it towards him. He clicked it in place for you, crossing the strap over your chest, and waist, then he asked you, voice low and hoarse, “That comfortable?”

Just for a second, he looked up at you, eyes meeting yours. His strong scent infiltrated you. You had no words to say. He was so close, and you just nodded, hoping that would be enough.

“We’re good now” He spoke, leaning back into his own seat, and started the car. There was absolutely no fucking need for him to be doing that for you. You knew how to put a seatbelt on, but now you wished he was always there to do it for you.

Your chest was pounding embarrassingly loud. You think everybody could hear it. You glanced at him, and his hands rested on the wheel, and he looked so fucking attractive. The thin glasses rested on his nose, and he licked his lips, turning around, one hand on the wheel, other on the back of your seat so he could reverse the car out of its parking lot. God, you wish you never met him but you wanted to jump over the console into his lap, and kiss him for the rest of your life.

Hyunjin cleared his throat, and looked at you before turning to face the road again. His gaze dropped to your body for a second, to his sweater hugging you tightly. You weren’t talking to each other, but… your gaze mirrored his, you’re sure. You stared at his face illuminated in the moonlight, darkened look in his eyes. So, he couldn't love you, but you still had an effect on him, and it made you feel proud. Anybody in the world would be able to tell what you wanted to do to each other. Even right now, when you hated him more than anything. Even when he’d broken your heart and made no attempt to patch it back up.

You both said nothing, as he focused on the road, pulling out of the campgrounds to catch the highway. The silence was enough. You’d been in this car for just a few minutes, and you were already dying, air thick with tension.

There were three long hours to Seoul, on a dark highway through the woods, with only the moonlight to guide you, and Hyunjin was inches from you.

You had no idea how you’d make it there, without completely ruining each other.

»»————-

masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :)

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #angst #Hyunjin imagines #skz x reader #skz imagines #fluff #friends to lovers #hwang hyunjin x reader

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