#your music and words accompanied me in painful times

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Read Between the Lines

Request: anonymous said: "I was wondering maybeeee if you could write some protective bf Tyler ( because i would be swooning ) maybe either someone keeps hitting on her so he steps in or someone maybe in another storm chasing crew is being mean so he steps in and defends her <3 idk"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: language, mild fighting i guess?? slight angst

A/N: sorry I haven't been posting as frequently! I started work up again and ya girl has been BUSY. Anyyywayyy, thank you for reading! please keep the comments coming! I love to see all your requests and I promise i'm getting to them as quickly as i can :)

“Need anything?” Tyler asked, leaning against the hood of the truck in a way that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is. 

“I’m good,” you said, offering him a gentle smile before brushing a few loose strands of hair from your sticky forehead. 

“You wanna come in with me then?” 

You shook your head– the idea of sitting in a stale diner with no AC was just about as unbearable as the thought of driving another second. “No, I think I’ll stretch my legs out here.”

“Okay,” he said in a tone that indicated you’d be missing out. He gave the truck a pat before adding, “We won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” you assured him. 

He offered one final nod before turning and following Dani, Boone, and Lily across the parking lot. Dexter also stayed behind. Instead of shitty diner food, he’s opted to take a nap inside the RV accompanied by his noise canceling headphones and a fan blasting right at his face. 

You were exhausted, down to your bones. You and the rest of the team had driven nearly six hours that day tracking a cell that hadn’t ended up amounting to anything. You were stiff and tired and irritable– just like everyone else. But you hoped that some time alone outside might help at least level out your mood.

You extended your arms over your head, groaning when you felt something lightly pop in your back, before craning your neck from side to side. The air was stifling– thick and humid with little to no breeze for any sort of relief. The heat hadn’t broken in nearly a week, and unfortunately for just about everyone, the truck’s AC didn’t work as well as it used to. 

The parking lot to the diner was relatively empty. Aside from the crew’s RV and truck, there was an SUV parked in one of the front spots and a small sports car with a steady cloud of smoke pouring out the cracked window.  

You let your eyes wander past the diner parking lot at the sprawling field across the road. The windmills were agonizingly still in the stale air– like even they were desperate for some reprieve. 

Your eyes fell shut as you took a few deep breaths, trying to get your bearings. 

Your peace lasted for about thirty seconds. And then the sound of blaring music and screeching tires had you turning your pulsing head. Instantly, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the familiar vans pulling into the lot beside you. 

Merrill Anderson and his crew started chasing in the area almost thirteen months ago. You knew because each and every moment that you’d known about their existence had been more painful than the last. 

Anderson was a meteorologist out of Texas that wore a cowboy hat almost as big as his mouth and an inflated ego to match it. He made sure you and everyone else around him knew that he had a PhD, and therefore, in his opinion, was automatically more entitled to chase. Him and Tyler had hated each other from the moment they met while chasing an EF2 in Arkansas– their feud only grew each time their paths crossed. 

Anderson was grinning at you through the window as soon as his van rolled by. You did your best to avert your gaze– hoping that lack of eye contact would avoid any sort of conversation. 

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky. 

“There she is,” he announced, boots scuffing against the dirt parking lot as he hopped out from the driver’s seat. 

“Now what're you doin’ out here all by yourself? Your team finally leave you behind? Realized they didn’t need two uni drop outs on their team?” he asked, tone already dripping in sarcasm. 

He was an antagonizer who got off on provoking others. And although you and Anderson had your fair share of unpleasant exchanges, you knew he only ever bothered you to get under Tyler’s skin. 

Tyler’s biggest weakness was that he was endlessly protective of the people he loved. You saw this particular trait as a strength– but you knew that Anderson fed off Tyler's anger, which you could only imagine was his intention now. Thankfully Tyler was in the diner– hopefully gorging on raspberry pancakes as you spoke. Because if he were to see Anderson talking to you– you knew this whole interaction would escalate quickly. 

“Anderson,” you sighed, leaning casually against the hood of Tyler’s truck. The smile you forced on your face was almost painful. “So lovely to see you, as always.”

You hoped if you withheld from his taunting, he might move on quicker. 

Instead, to your despair, he backtracked from his van to stand across from you. “You guys go ahead,” he instructed his crew. “I’m gonna spend some time with my friend here.”

They nodded before heading towards the diner, leaving the two of you alone. 

“You should teach that hillbilly- boyfriend of yours some manners. If I remember correctly, last time I saw him, he drove through a puddle to splash me.”

You bit back a grin as you recalled the moment he was referring to. “I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose,” you lied (it was absolutely on purpose). 

Anderson chuckled. “You know– I don’t know if we’ve ever had a conversation just us, without him lingering around. You’re much more pleasant. Both in conversation and in looks.” 

You felt a chill run down the length of your spine at his words– but the way he was looking at you was infinitely worse. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your chest– currently more exposed than you would like in the tanktop you wore in the stifling Oklahoma heat. You wished you had grabbed a shirt to cover up in– but they were all either dirty and packed away somewhere in your duffel. 

Clearing your throat, you stood up straight and crossed your arms, attempting to shield yourself from his lingering gaze. 

“Oh, hey now darlin’, don’t cover up. I’ve been stuck in the van all day with these jokers, this is the most action I’ve gotten all summer.” 

You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you tried desperately to remain level headed. Anderson was a jerk– and he’d definitely make you uncomfortable… but you couldn’t imagine that he’d ever actually do anything to harm you.  

Then again, you’d never interacted with him for longer than a minute or two with Tyler and the rest of the crew at your side. This was uncharted territory that you didn’t care to explore. You felt your earlier determination to handle him on your own fade away with uneasiness.  

You turned your head towards the diner, hoping you might catch Tyler’s gaze through the window or something. Of course you were too far away for that– all you caught was the glare from the sun. 

“You know I’m not used to seeing you in clothes like this, usually you’re all covered up,” Anderson whistled. 

As soon as he took a step closer, you instinctively moved too. Except your legs collided with Tyler’s truck– preventing you from actually going anywhere. For some dumb reason, you felt obligated to hold your ground– to not let him see how uncomfortable he was really making you. But with each passing comment, you grew more and more fearful. 

Anderson now had his body angled towards you with a look that could only be described as predatorial. “God, it’s true you don’t know what you’re missin’ til you see it. We should have these heat waves more often if it means I get to take a look at this every day.”

You tried and failed to remain stoic. You wanted to yell– to tell him to shut the fuck up. But for some reason, your body and brain weren’t connecting. 

“C’mon, where is she?” he taunted. “You know, your sweet side has its perks. But I much prefer ‘em a little spicy.” 

He took another few steps closer to you. It was subtle, but you noticed. Anderson was so obviously getting a kick out of whatever the hell he was doing here, and you were doing a piss-poor job at withholding from it, like you’d originally planned. 

“Why don’t you come on back in my van with me,” he winked. “I’m not sure how your hillbilly does it, but I can show ya a real good time.” 

Get away from me, you wanted to scream. But your mouth wouldn’t move– your voice was lost somewhere inside of you. And all you could get your body to do was lean away from him slightly. 

“Don’t be like that, darlin’,” he cooed. He was so close that you could almost smell his breath. Your brain told you to fight– to shove or kick or do something to get him away from you. But all those previous instincts you had to fight back faded into paralyzing fear. 

Anderson reached across the space between you to move a loose strand of hair from your face as you began to tremble. “And don’t be afraid, baby doll. I don’t bite… too hard. Owens ain’t gotta know–”

“Anderson!” 

Your head snapped at the sound of a familiar voice… Not just any familiar voice– Tyler’s voice. He was currently storming across the parking lot with a look of pure hatred across his face. The second his eyes landed on you– undoubtedly and obviously terrified, that anger only intensified. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” he demanded. His eyes were narrowed and shockingly darker than their normal shade of sage. 

“Here he is!” Anderson taunted. “Her douche bag in shining armor.”

You couldn’t help but notice Anderson didn’t step away. In fact, if anything, he looked like he was about to step closer, just to really test his limits. But then, to your relief, you saw Boone, Dani, and Lily storming out of the diner in Tyler’s wake– all coming to your rescue. 

In an instant, Tyler was there, stepping between you and Anderson– forming the protective barrier you needed to finally feel safe again. Without thinking, you fisted the back of Tyler’s T-shirt for good measure. 

“Easy, Rambo,” Anderson sneered. “I was just tellin’ your sweetheart here how much I enjoy her new look. Who knew she had all this hidin’ under those baggy shirts? That the reason you keep her hangin’ around, Owens? I knew she had to be good for something–”

But Anderson didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because before you knew what was happening, Tyler was lunging forward and connecting his fist with Anderson’s nose. 

The crack as it broke was deafening, you released Tyler’s shirt to cover your mouth in shock. Tyler hit him with enough force that he went staggering back a few steps, his hands instantly moving to cup his face. 

Tyler was still shaking off his hand when Anderson stood up straight, blood pouring out of both nostrils. 

“Damn, that bitch must be as good as she looks if she’s worth all this,” Anderson continued to taunt. Even with a broken nose, he didn’t back down.  

Without even hesitating, Tyler moved to strike again. But as soon as he did, Boone and Dani were both stepping in front of him to break things up. 

“Easy, T–” Boone said. 

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tyler snarled in warning, pointing his finger over Boone’s shoulder. You’d never quite heard his voice so malicious or threatening before, and even though it was in your defense, it sent shivers down your spine.   

Suddenly, Lily grabbed your hand from the side, causing you to flinch. “It’s okay,” she said, tugging you a few steps away from the chaos– like she knew how badly you needed space from everything. “You alright?”

You nodded, flustered.  

“Next time you want to settle this without your little army of strays, you let me know, Owens. And next time you want a good time, Y/N, you know where to find me,” Anderson said, offering you a wink that churned your stomach. With that, he wiped some blood from his nose and began sauntering back towards his van. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Tyler snarled, still being physically held back by Dani and Boone. 

“Yeah, and he’d deserve it. But he’s not worth catchin’ a charge,” Boone said. “It’s been a slow season and we don’t got the kind of money to bail you out of jail.”

“Take a breath, T,” Dani said. “He’s walkin’ away. Take a breath.”

You watched Tyler slowly come back to his body. He listened to Dani and took a deep breath– his shoulders visibly relaxing when he exhaled. It seemed to be enough for his friends to finally release him. 

As soon as he was free from their grasp, Tyler turned around– his attention landing on you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his previously menacing voice now laced with so much care and concern. He stood in front of you– his body blocking all views of Anderson and their vans. His hands moved to cup your cheeks gently. 

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to convince yourself more than anyone else. But even you knew it didn’t sound convincing. Your voice subtly cracked on the final word. 

Tyler stroked his thumb along your skin. The look on his face told you he didn’t quite believe you as his eyes flickered down to your trembling hands. Thankfully he didn’t ask more. 

“I gotta say that was a nasty right hook, T,” Boone said, clapping Tyler on the back as he approached. “I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“What’d that asshat say to you?” Lily asked. “You looked really shaken up when we saw you out the diner window.”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, too embarrassed to repeat his taunts. You were shocked by how self-conscious you suddenly felt with everyone’s eyes on you. Anderson’s previous words had made you incredibly aware of every inch of yourself– like there was an electrical current humming underneath the surface of your skin. 

“Just the usual shit,” you tried to brush it off.  

You felt grateful when they didn’t push. 

Eventually, the crew disassembled– everyone focused on getting their stuff together to hit the road again. Anderson didn’t reemerge from his van, but as you sat idly in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, you didn’t take your eyes off from where it was parked– like you were anticipating some sort of retaliation. 

You remained hidden from the team– feeling so awkward and uncomfortable– like you didn’t want to be perceived or noticed by anyone. And you hated that Anderson’s words were the ones to make you feel that way. You couldn’t find any shirts in your duffel bag that weren’t disgusting. And currently you didn’t have the time or patience to dig through your second bag in the RV. So instead, you wrapped your arms awkwardly over your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible just as Tyler climbed into the front seat. 

“Everyone else is riding in the RV, it’s just us,” he said, eyes lingering on you. 

“Okay,” you said, trying your best to sound casual. You wondered if he ordered everyone in the RV so that you’d feel more comfortable. You made a mental note to thank him for that later, he was always so good at reading between the lines.  

Tyler instantly noticed your uneasiness. “Baby, what’d he say to you?” 

You shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment. “I mean, I think you caught the gist of it at the end there… Just a lot of that.”

You heard his loud exhale. “Just say the word and I’ll barge into that stupid van and kill him right now.”

The corner of your lip tugged into a small smile. “I just want you to stay here,” you admitted. 

He nodded solemnly. Without another word, Tyler passed you something he had scrunched up in his fist. It was one of his T-shirts– like he knew you wanted to cover up without even having to say it. You took the shirt– the thanks you wanted to offer him remained stuck in your throat, but Tyler didn’t seem to mind. 

Instead, he pretended to fiddle with the radio while you silently slipped the shirt on. Almost instantly, you felt like you could relax underneath the fabric of his clothes. 

You curled your arms around yourself and tucked your knees to your chest. When Tyler asked if you were ready to head out, you nodded without another word. 

…

It was only seven when you arrived at the motel. Tyler went into the lobby to book the rooms while everyone else hung back. Boone and Lily were going on and on about using the pool later that night, but once you’d grabbed your bags from the truck, you sort of tuned it all out. 

Tyler found you sitting on the curb once he’d passed out everyone else’s room keys. He picked up your duffel from the ground before speaking for the first time in almost an hour. 

“You ready for bed?”

You nodded, offering him your best attempt at a convincing smile.  

“C’mon,” he motioned his head to the left. “We’re upstairs.”

Tyler led the way to your room– and even though this was a dingy motel, you’d never seen anything more perfect. The shades were dark, the AC worked, and there was a single, plush-looking queen bed in the middle of the room just screaming your name. 

Tyler let you shower first. And when you emerged from the bathroom, all the sweat and grime finally washed from your skin, he was gone. But in his place, he’d laid out one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed for you to use. You almost teared up at the sight of just how thoughtful he was… Still reading between the lines. 

You’d spent the entire duration of your shower trying to convince yourself that what had happened earlier wasn’t that big of a deal. Anderson was a jerk– of course he was going to say some jerk-ish things. It shouldn’t have been a surprise– and yet, you couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt. It was like all the words he’d said to you had nestled underneath your skin and made a home for themselves. 

In an attempt to shake the thoughts away, you quickly shrugged on Tyler’s clothes before sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping your arms around yourself. 

Almost as soon as you sat down, you heard the front door to the motel open up. Tyler stepped into the room carrying his own bag and a couple of water bottles he must’ve grabbed for the two of you. 

“Better?” he asked, handing you one. 

You nodded and cracked it open. “Much.”

Tyler sighed before joining you on the edge of the bed. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I-” you started and then stopped. Your hands were shaking, but you jumped when you felt Tyler’s hand close around yours, steadying them. His touch gave you just an ounce of courage to speak. 

“It wasn’t even anything that bad–” you admitted. “I meant it earlier, you heard the worst of it… I just, I don't know, I can't explain it. But everything he said made me feel so gross… and dirty, and…” And, well, you didn’t quite know what else. Words were hard to come by tonight. 

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled. He released your hand to wind his arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his chest instead.  

It wasn’t until he shushed you that you even realized you were crying, but it came out in a rush. You clung to him, instantly impressed by his ability to just make you feel so much safer. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assured you, only squeezing tighter. 

“I don’t know why this bothered me so much–” 

“Because Anderson is an asshole and he intentionally said some gross shit to shake you up,” he answered for you. “You’re allowed to be upset by that.” 

You exhaled against his shirt, and when you licked your lips, you tasted salt. 

“I’m the sorry one,” he said. 

“What?” you shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry–”

“I should have been there.”

“You were there,” you reminded him. “Unless I blacked out or something and I was really the one who punched him in the nose…”

Tyler chuckled softly, you felt the vibration against your chest– instantly soothing you. 

You sighed after a moment, trying to decide if you wanted to share what was really bothering you. You bit the inside of your cheek. It was so tempting to keep it to yourself, but more tempting than that was the idea of finally feeling a little more at ease again after just telling Tyler the truth. 

“I just–” you paused again. “I–” 

“Hey,” he said. You looked up at him briefly. “It’s just me.” 

That was the problem– it was Tyler. And you didn’t want Tyler thinking less of you because of what had happened. 

“I didn’t fight back,” you said quietly. “I just froze up– it was like I couldn’t even think straight. And he kept going and going, and I just stood there– taking it.”

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. “What are you talking about?”

“It just felt like…” your voice tapered off. 

Tyler waited a moment before asking gently, “Like what?” 

“It just felt like I didn’t do anything to stop it,” you whispered so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d heard you. “Like I let it happen.”

“Baby,” Tyler sighed. “Baby, no. Anderson is such a jackass, it wouldn’t have mattered what you said–”

“But I could have told him to get the fuck away from me–”

“You were just trying to keep yourself safe. Baby, we can’t control how we react when we’re scared. It’s fight or flight–”

“Or freeze,” you mumbled, embarrassed. 

“Or freeze. I’m pretty sure fawning is one too, now,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter– what matters is you can’t control that you froze. Just like–”

“Just like you couldn’t control punching him in the face?” you asked. 

You glanced up just in time to see Tyler’s lips tug into a smile. “Exactly,” he said. 

“I just wish my fear reaction was a little more effective,” you pouted. “Freezing didn’t do much.”

You let your eyes fall shut when Tyler tugged you closed to his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing you have a douchebag in shining armor to come help whenever you need it,” he smirked. 

“Thanks for protecting me,” you said quietly. 

“I’ll always protect you, you know that,” he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

You smiled against his chest. You really did know that. “And thanks for punching him in the nose.”

Tyler snorted. “Anderson’s had that coming for a long time.”

[wyniepooh]

Know

art knows you like no one else. he knows you better than you know yourself.

standford!art x reader. mentions of alcohol. cheating on reader’s part but it’s valid bc her bf is an ass. art knows he can treat u better than ur shitty bf, and proves it.

“You have to know, right?”

“what?”

your words came out slurry and slow, and it took all your might to not let your squinted eyes close. through the sliver of what you could see, art sat opposite you, back against the side of his bed and beer bottle in hand.

you chuckled, “I don’t know what you-“

“That he treats you like shit.”

you stop in your sentence, choosing instead to fill your mouth with another sip of your beer. You gulp down the prickly liquid, wiping your mouth as you say, “you don’t know anything about us.”

He shrugs. “I know you’re spending a Friday night getting drunk with his roommate, rather than accompanying him to that fancy tennis gala he was invited to.”

you shook your head casually, taking another full sip before speaking.

“I’m wasn’t interested. You know I don’t play, right? i didn’t want to-“

“Did he ask?”

you laugh, running a swift hand over your face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he sat up slightly, scooting a little closer to where you were. you had your legs crossed, and you were drowsily leaning on the side of your boyfriend’s bed. he propped his elbow on a raised knee. “did he even ask you to go?”

you smile slowly faded as you looked down, sucking on the inside of your cheek as you tried to focus instead on the harsh, brown carpet of the room. Faded music could be heard from the other rooms, and usually, you’d be in one of those dorms, partying it down, but tonight, you much prefer the silence.

“No,” you whispered.

He cleared his throat and took another swig. “you know, with the way he talks about you and the way he acts around you, you would think everyone knows exactly how he feels about you. everyone except yourself.”

He chugged what was left in his bottle, tossing it to the side where a pile was beginning to accumulate. He stared straight at you with half-closed eyes and pressed his lips together. “honestly, sometimes, I think you know too. deep down. I think you know exactly what he’s thinking, exactly what he’s going to do to you, and yet you choose to ignore it.”

“Why?” He asks. there was a look of genuine concern and confusion of his face. his expression was pained, as if the idea of you suffering hurt him more than you.

You nibble at the bottom of your lip, hoping that the pain of the peeling skin would stop the tears from running. your actions were done in vain, as your tears had already begun to form and fall. Suddenly, you feel a warm finger on your face, gently swiping away at your dampened cheeks.

The pad of his thumb stayed on your cheek while the rest of his hand uncurled around your jaw. “You have to know, right?”

“Yes,” you sniffled, “of course I know he treats me like another one of his fan girls that he tosses away after-“

“No, not that,” he mutters.

“look at me.”

He guides your chin up until your eyes are parallel with his, and for the first time that night, you get a good view of his face. His overgrown blonde hair scattered all over his face, some across the front of his blue eyes. They seemed to not be able to concentrate in one place, flickering from your hair to your nose to your chin. You were sure that your cheeks were as flushed as him from the alcohol and the embarrassment, so much so that heat was practically radiating off of the two of you.

“what are you talking about, then?”

he sighed, dropping his hand from your face and slumping his head down at the same time. you could feel his warm breaths escaping his nose and hitting your cold knees.

Finally, he looks up, brows creasing as he responds, “how I feel about you.”

he parts his lips, struggling to find the words. “You have to have already known, right? I mean, all the times I’ve wiped away your tears and and comforted you because that asshole did something stupid again.” A beat passed.

“I know I can treat you so much better,” he breathes, “if you would just let me.”

Somewhere between his first question and his last, the proximity between of the two of you had closed. His arm suddenly wraps around your neck as he pulls you into him, digging his nose into the space where your shoulder and neck connects.

“Please,” he mutters.

chills spill down your body from his words, and you simply pause in all of your thoughts for a moment. Finally, you close your eyes and hug him tight around his waist as he tenderly rocks you back and forth.

you’re the one to pull back, and at first, you see a glimmer of disappointment in art’s eyes. but then you lean close, and closer, and, for the first time tonight, he smiles. He further guides your actions by placing a hand on the back of your head, not letting go even once your lips have connected with his.

your own fingers scratch at the back of his curls, and you swear he laughs against your mouth. You bask in the sounds of your mixed pants and the electric buzz generated from the delicate connection of skin in the otherwise quiet room, and it brought upon a lightness in the air, something you hadn’t felt since earlier that day when you first saw art in the dining hall.

“I know,” you mumble against his lips, stopping for a minute to catch your breath. You rest your forehead on his, eyes still closed as you caress his glowing face with both hands. he laughs again, harder this time, and you join him, repeating the same two words over, and over again.

-

a/n: hey google play the historically significant song treat u better by shawn mendes

[hanrinz]

ᰔ. — your boyfriend, rin itoshi worries too much about you. a party can never stop him anyway. f reader.

“c’mere, sit down.”

your boyfriend, rin said as he tugged your hands gently as he led you to a bench. grabbing you by your shoulders to let you sit. dropping on his knees, dirtying his expensive pants that he had recently bought yesterday.

reo had invited the both of you to his party, something about a celebration of sorts for their recent victory.

though your boyfriend didn’t want to attend, with it being a pain for interrupting his time with you—his words not yours—a little convincing on your part did the job anyway.

the party was great and all, well you had expected it anyways. reo does have the knack for these kind of things, knowing he’s been doing this for as long as he can remember.

as the night goes on, you meet familiar faces, namely your boyfriend's teammates, who seemed to be overjoyed. you really had a great time, and you're pretty much sure rin did too.

(even if he was pretty much stuck by your side and if he was ever apart from you, his hands always seem to find it’s way to any expanse of your skin.) but soon enough the party just drained the life out of you. your dress sticking uncomfortably on your skin, the music just blasting in your ears, a headache pounding in your head.

and you really, really tried to stay for a little more—just out of courtesy, but rin noticed.

he always does.

finally, he thinks to himself.

a reason to bail out, he’s sure these losers can understand if the two of you leave early, he just can’t wait to come home and just have the night together all to yourselves.

and so he did, he gently dragged you towards the dooor out of reo’s house, taking your purse and phone as he whispered lowly in your ears.

“we’re leaving.”

“already? but what about reo?”

“he wouldn’t mind,” he interjects as he walks slowly beside you, your hand still laced with his. trudging as you try to navigate your way despite the alcohol taking its effect into your vision. as you open the door, the cold air of the night greets you, and it was rather nice.

you can finally breathe.

the still quietness of the city had quelled the storm in you, the dark lonely city offers its comfort to you. and you really like times like this, just this moment of the two of you alone with each other. hand in hand, aimlessly walking in the dead of the night. you turn to the man beside you, a small tired smile creeping up its way in your face.

now that you think of it, you don’t mind escaping everything if you could always have a moment like this with him.

“thank you for accompanying me tonight.” thank you for agreeing to you to come even though he doesn’t want to—is what translates to rin’s dictionary that was made for you.

rin looks at you briefly and looks away just as fast before responding.

“you don’t need to thank me, it’s nothing.”

noticing the tip of his ears all flare up as the color of a rose, you suppress the laugh in your chest as he plays it off as something as ‘nothing’. your boyfriend is totally like a cat who hates showing affection, sometimes you just want to kiss him.

you would’ve run or just go wild in the street just from the millions butterflies that flutter in your stomach if not for the incessant pain in your feet—your heels are killing you. it has been two hours since it’s been bothering you, trying to ignore it the whole time you were in the party.

not being able to keep up with his long strides despite his slow pace.

it’s definitely because of his long legs.

rin noticed once again, as always. which led you to this present moment of him kneeling down for you. his hands working on unclasping the straps of your heels, taking it in his hands as he stood back into his height.

he stares for a moment, tilting his head a little, that kind of reminds you like a cat.

suddenly, putting your phone in his pockets, taking off his jacket and tying it around your waist. taking you by surprise, but you let him do it anyways. turning around, his back facing you as he kneels once again.

this was a rather unusual gesture from your boyfriend, is he offering you a piggyback ride? you wonder what has gotten into him.

might as well savour this opportunity, don’t you think?

you got on his back, his hands coming around your thighs and his jacket acting as protection on your lower body. rin was warm, always been so cuddly and huggable. you lean into him, with a small smile hanging on your face.

“thank you, rin.”

he scoffs at that, “i told you, its nothing,” yet the heat that reaches the tip of his ears never gone away.

“i know,” you whispered. “but still, i had fun today and i really wanted to go out with you. you didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

you were met with silence, but you dont take any offense in it. because it’s just him—its just rin itoshi, it’s just the man you know of for years and have come to love.

“...we can always go out if you’d like,” he pauses. “and i did it, because i want to. don’t you ever forget that, idiot.”

you laughed at him once more.

“okay.” you promised, with a wide grin forming on your face, that rin can imagine even if he can’t see you from his back and it feels good.

everything was good when he’s with you.

◞♡ likes & reblogs are highly appreciated! i miss rin like crazy guys this draft is like from march last year lmfao

[strawbeerossi]

August || Chapter Four

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid, fem!reader x Emily Prentiss 

Description: After you and Emily leave the office for lunch together, you two enjoy each other’s company.

Content/Warnings: Pure fluff, flirting, developing feelings, kissing 

WC: 1.6K

Chapter Five will come out whenever this one gets 450 notes, just like I did for this chapter!

Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request

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The elevator door was soon opening in front of you, the arguing in the bullpen being unheard as you and Emily were soon walking through the open doors. “I’m glad we’ve been hanging out a lot more.” You broke the silence, a smile gracing your features.

“Me too. I can’t believe it took us this long to spend time together like this. It’s been nice.” Emily smiled in return while letting an arm wrap around your shoulders. 

For the first time in a while, you felt content. You didn’t feel the need to push everyone away and close yourself off from the world. All you needed was the extra support and reassurance. 

“It’s gonna be nice to get out of the office. It’s a nice day out. Maybe we can find somewhere with an outside dining area?” She suggested while glancing in your direction once the doors of the elevator were opening up to the parking garage, the two of you heading to Emily’s car together. 

“I think that sounds perfect. Be careful, Prentiss. I may get used to being spoiled.” You teased while looking in her direction.

“I think I can handle it if it comes down to that.” She teased in return. “It’ll just give me an excuse to take you out more.” 

The words had your face flushing as you offered a smile. “You shouldn’t need an excuse!” You mused while getting into the passenger seat of her car. You felt so.. Cared for. Emily had done a great job at offering the utmost support for you in your endeavors to get over the loss of two friendships.

She never let you lose yourself in the process, offering a shoulder to cry on at any time. It was her kindness and affection that made you grow into the person you’d become. 

The drive was peaceful, some light conversation over minor things going on around you, both accompanied with the soft music playing from the radio. It was comfortable, something that you’d grown accustomed to feeling with Emily. Part of you felt like she was doing it to be a good friend. The other part had you swooning over the possibility of her being interested in you. 

You knew better than to just assume after the Spencer debacle that threw you in for a loop, but it was nice to just sit back and be able to think about the endless possibilities that could come from this. You didn’t need anyone to be happy, but you always liked the idea of settling with someone you cared for. 

You knew you were thinking way too far ahead in this instance, however you didn’t let it deter you from continuing to dream over a possible love story. 

The arrival at the small cafe in downtown Quantico was what pulled you from your thoughts, your eyes looking out the window to see the colorful umbrellas over a few tables outside. “It’s not fine dining but..” Emily began before you were shaking your head. 

“I think it’s perfect.” 

With a smile on your face, you were opening your door and getting out of the car. There was a sigh of content coming from you as you could feel the warmth of the sun hitting your skin. The weather was just yet another indicator that today was going to be a good day. 

For the first time in a while, you weren’t thinking of Spencer. Instead, you were focused on Emily, on feeling appreciated by someone who was close to you. 

Emily had pulled the door open for you, letting you walk in ahead of her as you approached the front desk. After requesting a table outside, the hostess was more than happy to walk you both into the patio section, placing two menus on the table. 

“This feels too fancy. Sitting outside like this might’ve been too much.” Emily joked, the both of you chuckling. “How have you been feeling lately?” She then asked, picking up the menu in front of her to look over her options with a soft hum.

“I’ve been alright. Mostly focused on work. Oh! But I am thinking about getting a cat. Pen has been mentioning how lonely old man Sergio is so I might have to get a kitten to keep the old man on his toes.” You teased. “Plus, a cat playdate is probably the cutest thing I’ve thought about all year.”

“So you haven’t been thinking about me then? I’m hurt!” The woman let out a dramatic sigh as her hand rested against her chest. “I thought what we had was special.”

“You’ve always had a flair for the dramatics, haven’t you?” You commented, flashing an amused smile. 

“Maybe.. It’s easier to get attention that way. Extra attention when it comes to you.” She teased as she was placing her menu on the table. “A cat will keep you busy though, trust me. I remember when I had Sergio home with me, he was a wild child. Still probably the only man I ever needed though.” She laughed.

“At least he didn’t talk back, right?” You added on, letting out a laugh of your own. 

Talking with Emily eased your mind on a lot of things. You had assumed she had some verbal  crack sprinkled into your conversations, making you want to talk with her all day and all night. You could’ve sworn you had withdrawals when you were apart for too long, like the weekends without cases.

Lunch went smoothly, just lighthearted conversation and some good laughs. Instead of feeling trapped in your own thoughts, you were sitting there talking and laughing, letting loose and growing increasingly more comfortable. It was a shame you had to go back to work after though. 

Whenever the two of you were leaving the restaurant, you were getting settled into the passenger seat while Emily was starting the drive back to the office.

It made you wonder about what happened back in the bullpen, if there were any more snide comments made by either Spencer or JJ. Then again, it had been a while since they had even glanced in your direction, well; you thought that way. You knew you couldn’t hold on to that anger forever, but you had to admit; it was slipping away much slower than you would’ve liked.

In a way, you were just glad that you didn’t need to worry about it. On the other hand, you missed your friends. That’s what they were before all of this and now the title was stripped and you were left with two acquaintances. 

You dreaded the idea of letting them go entirely. Even with anger for JJ and Spencer, you did still care about them. It was hard not to, especially after knowing them for so many years. You still thought about the inside jokes, stories, even poking fun at one another. The time spent along them made you into the person who you were. You just never expected for things to do a somersault in the way that they did.

“Are you alright over there?” Emily broke the silence, noticing the way you were deep in thought. “You know you can talk to me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Just thinking of how it’s gonna be back at the office. I really don’t want to go back and do paperwork.” You groaned, offering a smile.

Emily didn’t buy that excuse. “Are you sure? You looked pretty out of it and you’re not even like that on the hardest of cases. Talk to me.”

God damn it. You should’ve known that the profiler in the driver’s seat would know better.

“I’m just worried about my friendship with Spencer and JJ. I know I’ve acted like a fool for months over that whole situation but.. They are still my friends, well, they were. I don’t wanna lose them entirely, but what if I have to?”

“You don’t have to lose them. You’re a good person, that’s why you care. I think in time, friendships can be mended and things can go back to seminormal.” She assured, her hand reaching over to rest on your knee.

It was a simple touch, but it made your face feel hot as you looked out the passenger side window. “I’m sure it will, but it still scares me.” You sighed while placing one of your hands over Emily’s. “Thanks for listening and reassuring me.” You added, making the woman shrug as she was turning into the parking garage before approaching her spot, her hand pulling away from yours as she was pulling in.

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s what I’m here for, you know that. You’re not a baby for having feelings, remember that. Emotions make you human.” The words were further reassurance. She really knew just what to say.

The two of you were heading back to the elevator together, hopping on as you hit the button for the floor you needed. “Lunch today was fun. Definitely a great way to celebrate us finishing paperwork.” You teased as you turned back to Emily, the woman playfully nudging your arm. 

“You’re getting it next time. I hope you know that.” 

“Fine.” You groaned in a dramatic fashion, glancing at the woman with a smile.

There was a content silence between the both of you, although there was another presence in the elevator. A light tension that you couldn’t quite place. 

While you were deep in your thoughts trying to figure out the warmth washing over the both of you, Emily was putting her hand gently against your cheek, the delicate touch making you blink back to reality. Before you knew it, that tension was dissolving as you felt a soft pair of lips pressing against yours. The kiss felt so right.

Although as soon as the doors were opening, you were both quickly pulling away from each other at the sounds of a mug shattering on the floor. 

“What the fuck?” Spencer's voice echoed through the hall.

[updownlately]

i want you to be (the only one for me)

| leah williamson x reader | angst | 10.3k | a/n: part II of this fic based on this ask! thank you guys for all your lovely messages on the first part! two months later and we finally got a part two 😅. huge huge s/o to @rockyren for beta reading this! hopefully you guys like this one as much as the first! happy reading! 🫶 (read part i here)

~~~

Two days.

Two days is all it took for Leah to realize how miserable she was. 

If the blonde thought that you being distant earlier was painful, then she was sorely unready for how bad your actual absence would hurt.

There was something utterly unsettling in the way the car seemed so empty as she’d entered it, a lump in her throat forming as her drives to and from practice were now blanketed with silence, a stark contrast to the music-filled joyrides she would have with you. 

From what used to be one hand casually on the steering wheel with the other firmly intertwined with yours was now both hands tightly gripping the steering, knuckles nearly white as they resisted the urge to reach out into the nothingness to her left, to the ghost of your presence, a taunting reminder of what she had and then lost.

Trips that were once accompanied by your shared laughter and obnoxious singing now consisted of pure quiet, the radio long since on mute. Jaw clenched as her eyes would, without fail, get misty each time she sat in the driver’s seat, the empty seat beside her remained a constant reminder of how you’d left.

The drastic change left her feeling hollow, chest wound up so tight as the space in the car felt like too much and too little- felt like it was wrong for the blonde to be here without you sitting in the passenger seat- in your seat. 

She could almost imagine your presence, having become so accustomed to it over the past months. 

Now, every time her hand mindlessly wandered over to blindly reach for yours, all she was met with was cool air and an aching heart, a shuddering breath escaping her as reality came crashing down.

And if the car rides hurt, god the way her chest constricted as she’d return to an empty apartment each evening was another story.

It was as if the hand around her heart was tightening with every passing second as she’d walk through the dark apartment, the weight on her shoulders heavier with each footfall of hers. 

Only her kitbag to be placed by the door. Just a single pair of trainers on the shoe rack. No trailing body behind her own as she’d enter- the once lively four walls now barren, devoid of emotion.

With just her pair of footsteps echoing throughout, only dinner for one to be sorted, grief buried itself in her chest as she flicked on the tv, mindlessly scrolling, shaky breaths escaping as your half finished nature documentaries taunted her on the ‘continue watching’ list. 

Sure, it felt wrong to be here, in your apartment, without you, but she didn’t think she could bear to return to her house, to return to a place where pieces of you didn’t exist- at least not as much as they did here. 

There were snippets of you tucked everywhere in the apartment. In the coffee table that held an ever growing stack of sticky notes you’d never read. 

In the records that were nestled away neatly under the tv, your favourites jutting out slightly, something you justified with the words ‘easy access’ and a smirk as the blonde would complain about them looking messy. 

In the way Leah couldn’t find it in herself to close the blinds, memories of you standing by the large windows overlooking the city at all hours of the day playing painfully in her mind whenever she tried.

And yes, of course there were remnants of you scattered throughout because this was your apartment, but there were also chunks of you because it was your apartment- because you being you, you loved so hard, so unconditionally, so unabashedly, that it couldn’t help but seep into the walls, into the worn-out book covers and spines, into the cushion that permanently rested against the arm of the couch, your tendency to lay on the couch post practice practically a ritual now. 

Love couldn’t help but bury itself in every little thing, each item precious and cared for deeply.

There were hints of you tucked into every inch inside these four walls and Leah couldn’t help but grasp at them in a futile attempt to hold on to your love- love she didn’t know if she’d ever get the chance to be bathed in again. 

So with tiredness buried in her chest, Leah tried her best, collecting her grief quietly as she’d see your favourite mug on the drying rack. Another ounce of it bundled deep in her heart when she couldn’t bring herself to cook in the mornings, too many memories of breakfasts you’d cook as the blonde would be draped across your back lazily as you hummed a song only you’d know.

With a hole in her heart, she’d gotten up these past few mornings, choosing to head to a nearby cafe instead of entering the kitchen- the cold sheets that met her hand as she’d instinctively reached across the bed already ruining her a day that had barely started. 

She didn’t want to talk about how she went out of her way to head to the bakery slightly farther from your house, purposely going past the store nearby that you both frequented often. How she avoided it like the plague since you had left because she didn’t think she could order there without a tear or two falling, silently crying as she ordered.

So while the ghost of you haunted her, as she lived in an home that was yours but a shell without your presence, she quietly begged the universe to convince you to come back, hoping, praying, waiting endlessly for a chance to mend things, because, if she was honest, nothing felt okay, nothing felt right ever since you had left- ever since you weren’t there to love the blonde anymore.

~~~

Before the blonde knew it, it had been a little over three days of your absence.

Three days of Leah quietly letting her heart constrict a bit more, the smile on her face becoming tenser, more forced. 

Seventy two hours of the blonde looking at your contact in her phone, the number staring back at her tauntingly, daring her to dial it. 

Four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes of contemplating whether she should send a text or a call. She didn’t want to pressure you, or worse, make you any more upset. 

Sighing to herself before locking her phone for the millionth time today, she tossed it to the side, head falling ungracefully into her hands.

With every passing second you were gone, with each minute she spent alone, in an empty apartment that didn’t feel like home, the heart of it gone the second you had sped out of the parking lot days ago, it felt as if her world was slowly crashing down, her unable to do anything but watch in horror at the destruction occurring around her.

The most she had seen you since was the practice this morning, you appearing on the pitch mere seconds before it had started, an anomaly considering you’d often be in earlier than needed, wanting to do some of your own warm-ups before practice. It’s one of the things you and the blonde agreed on, her never needing much convincing to join you.

Today though, there you were, seconds before you had to be, once energetic, now quietly running through the drills as you hung your head low, coasting by, avoiding Leah’s piercing staring. 

You ignored the way she shuffled closer to you, inconspicuously taking a step back each time she got nearer. 

You did your best not to shiver as you felt her gaze on you multiple times throughout the two-hour long practice, a shaky breath escaping you as you realized the roles were reversed from the day in the club- except you both were hurting.

And as much as a piece of you craved to gather the other girl in your embrace and take the brokenness out of her dull orbs, you knew you couldn’t- not with the way she had grasped your heart and let it fall so many times before, the poor thing nearly shattered into pieces by now- bits you cradled so gently now as they cut you, doing your best to put them together, scars littering your hands.

Even if you wanted to comfort the midfielder, you couldn’t find it in yourself to, for your own sake, for your own sanity.

And, in your defence, while you had a very likely feeling that Leah wasn’t doing great, her dark eye bags anything to go by, you weren’t okay right now either.

You’d been crashing with Steph since you had left the game that day, and it hadn’t been pretty if you were honest.

Having spent the better part of the first twenty-four hours newly single cooped up in the spare bedroom, you’d been cocooned in one of the fluffiest blankets the defender could find, an old Arsenal hoodie of Leah’s that you kept in the trunk of you car fitted on your frame and matching your bloodshot eyes.

It was only the second night that you had even left the room, head aching from the never-ending tears, blotchy cheeks and swollen eyes, a dead giveaway of your heartbroken state. 

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

Hell, it wasn’t supposed to end at all. 

But you didn’t know how many more ‘maybes’ you could take. 

How many more times you could handle taking a photo with the blonde only to be quietly asked not to post it anywhere. 

How many times you could watch as she acted like she was single, only to join you in your bed when night fell and there was nobody but the two of you to witness it. 

You’d been grateful that while Steph had been shocked to find out about your relationship with the English skipper, she hadn’t said a word to anyone else, taking somewhat of an older sister role, immediately protective of you.

It’s why no one questioned the distance between you and Leah, more than accustomed to how you both would only sometimes interact, blissfully unaware of the rift between the two of you, only the left-back in the loop.

So you hid behind Steph throughout the practice that morning, dodging each and every single attempt Leah made to talk to you, counting down the minutes until it would be over so you could escape.

Communicating with the others only as much as you needed to, you ran the drills, grateful that your position as a winger meant you didn’t see much of Leah. 

It was only when it came to five-a-side did you interact with her, keeping it minimal as you quietly asked Lina to switch, you now attacking on the right instead of your usual left to lessen your contact with the blonde.

You held your breath as Jonas announced the teams for five-a-side, only letting it go when play had started and the two of you were on different teams. 

And as you walked to the other side, trading spots, you couldn’t help but take a brief glance at the skipper, immediately turning your head to the side as you saw her face fall, the smallest hints of hurt flashing through her eyes, unrecognisable to everyone but you.

Pressing your arms tightly to your sides, hands clenched into fists as they fought to reach out, you did your best to focus on the movement of the ball. 

Watching it be passed around in front of you, you begged your mind to figure out the lapses in the defence, only for your gaze to fall on the blonde and your mind to go wandering yet again. 

It wasn’t fair that someone could look so beautiful even after sweating for nearly two hours. 

Closing your eyes as the thought ran through your mind, you took a deep breath in before trying to refocus on the game, willing for your heart to get it together. 

How was it fair that even broken up she still had this effect on you, playing with your heart strings ever so teasingly.

You knew loving her had been hard, but you’d never known breaking up with her would’ve been even harder.

Sighing as you got passed the ball, you did your best to stay professional, your broken heart hidden carefully away with the rest of your relationship- a secret heartbreak for a secret relationship, how cruelly fitting. 

~~~

It’s later that same day that Leah’s patiently waiting at home for your return. 

She had hoped that maybe you had changed your mind by now, or at least maybe have decided to swing by in order to grab a change of clothes, or do laundry, or maybe grab that book you had started a week ago. 

Really, something- anything- that meant that she’d get to see you. Anything so that she could fix what she had broken.

You’d been miles away from the blonde at practice and Leah couldn’t remember the last time she felt so small.

Sure, she’d met with multiple sports personalities, royalty, execs of some of the biggest companies for partnerships but she couldn’t recall the last time she felt so out of place. 

The absence of your mere presence beside her, brought the defender a sense of unrest she didn’t know existed. She’d gotten used to having your constant presence around her, a quiet love that manifested itself as relief, any tension almost immediately slipping away whenever you were near the blonde.

With it gone, all Leah could do was sit in agony, searching for a sense of comfort that she knew she wouldn’t find.

Hands balled into fists as she sat on the couch, an old UWCL game playing on the TV, her notebook long forgotten as was her attempt to distract herself by taking notes, the blonde let herself fall back into the couch, palms of her hand harshly pressing into her eyes.

Three days. 

Three days had passed with you not here and Leah was an absolute wreck.

Leg bouncing anxiously, a half-eaten takeout haphazardly tossed into the fridge, hair a mess from the countless times she had ran her hand through it, the blonde was on edge, perking up at the tiniest sounds she heard, hoping that one of them would be you.

But as hours passed, afternoon turning to dusk, dusk to night, Leah sat on the couch, no sign of your return in the distance. 

Fuck.

~~~

Five days.

That’s how long it took for Leah to come to terms with the fact that she was, in fact, in the wrong. 

Five long, lonesome days is what it took for her to realize that there was a difference between private and secret. 

To realize that maybe if she’d been confident enough to keep it private, you’d still be here, in your apartment, in her arms. 

That maybe if she hadn’t been terrified of what people would say, or the focus that would be placed on you both, she wouldn’t be alone right now, heart in pieces, body exhausted, no thanks to herself.

If she was honest, these past few days had given her more than plenty of time to realize she didn’t want to lose you. You were the best parts of her. You loved the worst parts of her and still stayed. 

Yet, here she was, about to push you away with her stubbornness- so stuck in protecting her identity, her career, her future, herself, she blissfully ignored that she’d been hurting you the whole time.

It’s why, even though it was nearly quarter past twelve the night before another training day, the blonde sat in the bed with her laptop in her hands as her eyebrows furrowed at the screen.

Sighing in an attempt to fend off the oncoming tears, she rubbed furiously at her eyes. 

After having convinced herself it wasn’t a good idea to ring up your friends and the teammates you helped close in an attempt to find you, the midfielder had settled upon planning on how she could convince you to give her another chance.

It’s sometime between figuring out whether she should bring you your favourite to practise, wary of the other girl’s reactions, that the defender’s phone buzzes, jolting her out of focus.

Heart leaping at the thought that it might be you, the blonde scrambles to find her phone in the mess of sheets. 

Paper’s flying as dug underneath to locate the source of the vibrations, she could feel her heart pounding, nearly rising to her throat as she pulled her phone from beneath the papers.

Lia. 

The three letters was all it took for her heart to break again, shoulder’s dropping as her stomach sank.

Dejectedly hitting swiping to open the notification, she swallowed hard as she scanned the message, Lia asking whether they were still on for breakfast before practice tomorrow- somewhat of a ritual over the past few months, every few weeks before late morning training a recent tradition for the two to catch up. 

Eyes flickering between the pages strewn across the bed and the tabs mockingly facing her on the laptop screen, the words nearly typed themselves as Leah watched.

‘Can’t. Got plans. Sorry.’

She had more important plans tomorrow….namely to get her shit together and get you back. 

Not bothering to wait for a reply, mind already determined, she threw her phone away and let herself fall back into the head, praying that the gamble she was about to take would work.

She could only hope.

~~~

Five days. 

Five days without a single text, a single phone call, a single voicemail.

Leah had five days and you had zero indication that maybe she ever even wanted you at all. 

Sighing to yourself as you dropped the phone onto the couch beside you, you could feel Steph’s judgemental stare.

“You could just call her, y’know? Phones work both ways…”

Eyes shooting over from where you were looking out the window, you shrugged your shoulders in response, a cold shiver running through you, mind a mess.

“I could…but why…”

Swallowing to hold back the tears that you knew were coming, you shifted in your seat in an attempt to get rid of the anxiousness in your spine. 

“I could, but she’s had the time to as well. She’s had five whole days for fuck’s sake. And what did I get in that time? A text? A call? Any indication that maybe she misses me? Misses our relationship? That it meant anything to her? None. Not a single one Steph.”

Closing your eyes as you felt your heart clench as the words that had been floating around in your mind finally rang through the quiet house, you clenched your hand in a fist.

Wiping away the one tear that had escaped with your other hand, you took a shuddering breath before continuing. 

“I’ve spent the last two weeks wondering if I was ever good enough for her- if I ever meant anything to her. Two weeks telling myself that maybe she cared an ounce of what I do. That she actually wanted me in her life, in her future.”

“And you know what? You know what Steph? I don’t think she does. I don’t think so. Because maybe, maybe, if this all meant anything to her, something to her, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you right now. Maybe she’d be with me. I’d be in my apartment, with her, wrapped up beside her. But I’m not. I’m not and she’s not the one beside me. She’s not, and I think that’s telling enough.”

Breathing heavily, your heart pounding as you felt it constrict, you did your best to swallow the lump in your throat and pick your book back up.

And as Steph stayed quiet, you silently wondered if you ever meant anything to the blonde, the question continuing to haunt you as quiet voices in your mind answered with resounding ‘no’s’. 

~~~

The drive the next morning to practice is silent, but Leah’s mind isn’t.

Variations of apologies are floating through, the blonde testing the ones she likes out loud, wincing as they gradually sounded worse and worse.

I’m sorry that I didn’t treat you right.

I’m sorry that I hurt you so many times…give me one more chance?

I’m sorry for being a daft.

Inwardly sighing at how dumb the last one sounded, she shook her own head.

Maybe she’d just let the moment guide her, let her heart say the words. Surely it couldn’t go wrong, right?

You’d always been a sucker for romantic, heartfelt confessions, constantly swooning when the two of you would watch romance movies, you nudging the blonde and making little comments whenever the lead actor did anything chivalrous.

Taking a handful of deep breaths as she pulled into the parkade, the blonde parked swiftly as she noted the time. 

Fifty-three minutes before practice…surely you were going to be here soon. 

Armed with her kitbag, cleats, two coffees, and a small bouquet of sunflowers- your favourite- Leah trudged inside, face set in a determined glare, quietly glad that no one else was here yet. 

~~~

At this point, Leah figured that if you even showed up at all, it’d be a miracle.

There was something humiliating about sitting in an empty locker room, bouquet of flowers in hand, two coffees, and only one person. 

If Leah looked hard enough at the ground, she was sure she’d find the piece of her breaking heart there. 

She’d been hopeful as she had entered the room, fifty-one minutes before anyone was due to show up, six minutes before you typically used to show up.

By the forty-fourth minute before practice, she wondered if you’d hit traffic on the way in, or maybe lost your trainer (you had an uncanny habit of losing just one- don’t ask Leah how, she didn’t know either, but she found it for you each time).

By the thirty-seventh, doubt started to creep in.

What if you were finally, truly done with her shit.

What if that last game had unknowingly been your last straw- her last chance.

What if you’d finally given up and moved teams because of the blonde.

Maybe you’d found someone else.

As each thought got more ridiculous than the previous, anxiety creeping up her neck, Leah could feel herself sink further into her own locker, her coffee long gone, yours nearly frozen. 

At the twenty third minute, cutting it close to when the rest of the girls were about to come in, the skipper picked up the flowers and her own broken heart, placing the bundle gently at the bottom of your locker in a desperate plea that maybe you’d see she wanted you back. That she was willing to try.

Pouring out the last of your coffee in the sink as loud voices of fellow teammates neared, the blonde quietly tucked away the sinking feeling in her stomach, holding her breath as she strained her ears to find your voice.

If not before practice, then she’d catch you afterwards. She needed to.

Silently hoping you’d see the little note she’d tucked in the flowers, a failsafe she had ready (thank God), the blonde plastered a fake smile as the door to the locker room swung open, making her way to her own locker as she greeted everyone but the one person she wanted to see the most.

She didn’t know how long she had left, and most definitely didn’t want to test it out. 

~~~

Cursing to yourself, you sprinted into the change room just minutes before practice started, nearly crashing into the door before you just barely managed to get it open.

God, you were late.

You’d come in separately this morning, foregoing riding with Steph to instead look at new apartments this morning.

Since the night you’d broken up with the other girl, you hadn’t yet visited your home once, not yet ready to face the harsh reality that no overconfident blonde defender would be deftly coming and going as she pleased. 

Coupled with the fact that too many memories that you couldn’t bear to recall would haunt you if you ever returned, you’d decided late last night that going back to your old apartment was a definite no.

You were pretty sure that you wouldn’t be able to enter the apartment without wanting to instinctively remind Leah to rack her shoes properly as she entered behind you, the blonde often opting for kicking them off regardless of the innumerable times you told her off for it.

And you definitely couldn’t enter your own kitchen, memories of failed dinners as you’d to teach the blonde to cook, the two of you always eventually ending up somehow distracted, food overcooked or burnt as the blonde would try to stifle a laugh at your incredulous expression, before you’d burst out in laughter as well, reaching for the take out pamphlets. 

The bedroom was most surely off limits too, countless, countless, nights of the two of you spent late into the morning talking about nothing and everything, sometimes just holding each other in silence as you bathed in the other’s presence.

Walking through the halls would be a whole ordeal of itself as well, pictures of the two scattered throughout, pictures that the others had never seen because Leah would beg you to take them down the few times you had people over.

It’s that final thought that had you clenching your jaw hard, your eyes narrowing as you made your way over to your locker. 

Cautiously setting your kit bag on your seat, your head tilted to the side as you took in the easily recognizable yellow petals that sat at the bottom of your cubby.

Only one person knew that you were a sucker for sunflowers, one person who’d just recently broke your heart. 

Holding your breath, you reached towards the bouquet, the card stock jutting out of it begging to be read.

‘i’m sorry for how many times i’ve hurt you. you probably don’t want to hear from me and that’s fair but i want you to know i’m  sorry and i want to do whatever it is i need to  to fix us. i still love you and i can’t think of a  future where i’m happy and you’re not in it. i probably don’t deserve it, but could i please get one more chance? i promise i  won’t let you down.     - yours, lw’

Eyes tracing over the words, all you could think was why now? Why written out? Surely, she could’ve said the words aloud to you if she’d truly meant them, having more than enough time over the past week, and really the past couple months of your relationship. Why was it that even though they were expressed, did your relationship still feel like a dirty secret- a small card tucked in the flowers that could be from anyone, signed with initials rather than a name. 

And how were you supposed to believe her this time having heard these words countless times before? How many promises were you going to watch her break? Each and every time, why was it you giving her another chance to break your heart again and again, letting her stomp all over what was already broken, brutally smashed and beaten by no one other than her.

Surely you deserved better- better than a couple of flowers shoved deep into the bottom of your locker, accompanied by a card that was nothing more than ink on some paper. 

Shaking your head to pull yourself out of the spiral you were going down, you tossed the card back onto the bouquet, instead bringing your focus back to getting ready for the training that you were more than definitely late for now.

You were a strong believer of second chances- but for your own sanity, it’d be better if you stopped now, at the thirtieth or so that it was- one too many to have kept count.

~~~  

It’s you running sprints at the end of practice, the understandable punishment you’d received for being late, the rest of the girls slowly filling out as Leah tried to find some excuse, any excuse really, that she could stay back and wait for you.

She’s grasping at nothing, sputtering an incomprehensible reason to Lia as the Swiss is pulling her by the arm, inside.

With the brunette only tightening her hold as she disagreed, Leah had no option but to dejectedly follow.

“Nope, no. Not today, you cancelled on me....you better have a good reason.”

It was just the blonde’s luck that Lia thought the defender was avoiding her, trying to stay back so she wouldn’t be questioned on missing breakfast. 

Unbeknownst to her though, if to no one else, it was clear as day to Lia that something had occurred within the past few days between the two of you. 

She wasn’t blind to the way her work wife suddenly seemed ever so slightly disconnected during training, mind seemingly eons away- a surprise considering the blonde prided herself on giving 110%, even during practice.

Combined with the way you’d stormed off a few days ago and the nil interactions the two of you had had as of late- something she didn’t think was just a mere coincidence- she figured that right now, you deserved your space, and Leah likely a telling off, if the fact that your sunshine mood was in the dumps and the blonde exuded waves of nervousness was anything of a sign.

Somehow managing to wrangle her English counterpart away from the field, Lia led the blonde away from the locker rooms, instead choosing a secluded hallway near the back ends of the stadium to confront her. 

Turning around sharply once she deemed they’d walked far away enough, Lia fixed the other girl with a questioning stare, her best captain’s stare if she said so herself.

“So what’s really going on?”

Swallowing hard at the accusing question, Leah contemplated telling the truth for just a second.

It would make it easier…

“What do you mean?” Instead, feigning innocence- not wanting anyone involved in the mess she created, she tilted her head in faux confusion.

Confusion that the Swiss woman could see right through. 

“Cut the bullshit. You and I both know there’s something going on…You can either waste both our time denying it until I eventually go and ask her…or you can tell me and we can at least get somewhere. And I know which one I’d pick…”

Leah could read the silent threat in the midfielder’s eyes. The slight eyebrow that was raised no doubt indicated that she wasn’t messing around, more than ready to go and confront you about everything. What she also knew was that if it was Lia talking to you, you wouldn’t hold back.

The choice was clear, really- but the defender didn't choose it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Leah watched as the woman in front of her eyes narrowed, jaw tightening as she tilted her head back in a ready challenge.

Please don’t call my bluff.

All the blonde could do was pray silently.

“Okay.”

One word.

One word was the reply the blonde got, Lia staring at her silently for a second longer before marching away, a determined weight set on her shoulders. 

It’s fear that has Leah blindly reaching out, her hand connecting sharply with the Swiss’ wrist, pulling her back before she could make it any further. 

“Promise me you won’t ask her about this. You can’t Lia…please…”

Nearly begging, the skipper, eyes silently pleading, held on tightly.

“I’m going to ask this once, and only once more…Leah what happened?”

She could either tell Lia of how she’d failed to treat you right and get absolutely bashed for it, or she could push it under the rug once more, make a lame excuse and get out of this.

Sighing deeply to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose, the blonde made her decision. 

Maybe it was time she grew up. 

~~~

You do your best to hide your surprise as you walk into the locker room and don’t see Lia or Leah, the absence of LW squared making your heart leap into your throat, thoughts you knew were nothing but blasphemy clouding your mind.

You knew they were work wives, nothing but platonically of course. You knew they prided themselves on being the best of friends on the pitch and off it. You knew there was nothing more going on between them- well, at least you hoped, for you didn't know what you would do if they were anything more. 

The thought that you’d never been enough for Leah still floated around your mind. You weren’t a crazy striker, or a mind-blowing defender. You were a midfielder that just so happened to be pretty good at their job, but that was all.

You weren’t special. You weren’t the captain of your national team. You weren’t heavily sought after for brand deals, you weren’t the popular, favourite player that Leah was- the player nor partner she deserved. 

You were simply you- and you didn’t know if that was enough for the English skipper.

Your thoughts get interrupted by the thump of the door hitting the stopper, two distinct voices echoing through the hall as the owners make their way in.

Leah and Lia.

Willing yourself not to turn around, you take a peak out of the corner of your eyes, immediately regretting your decision. 

The pair was close- Leah had an arm slung over the other girl’s shoulders, a soft smile on her face and the Swiss captain had her own arm around the English skipper’s waist and it did nothing to ease the rampant thoughts in your mind.

They were both sharing hushed words, indifferent to the few stares in their direction, too consumed in their conversation to bother paying attention. 

It was only as Lia gave Leah a gentle squeeze in the side-hug that they had going on did the pair break up, the two still sticking close together as they headed towards Leah’s locker. 

Turning to face your locker, your eyes caught the bright yellow of the petals, jealousy anger coursing through your veins as what used to be your favourite laugh rang out. 

Hastily grabbing the card and throwing it back into your locker to be dealt with later, you stared at the sunflowers peering up at you. 

Ironic that of all the days to receive them, you’d gotten them when the world felt anything but full of sunshine and rainbows. 

Making the quick decision, you quickly grabbed the bouquet on your way out, ignoring the questions being shot your way from the teammates that heard the unmistakable sound of the cellophane. 

Quietly letting Steph lead you out the door, you quickly glanced behind you in a silent prayer that Leah still cared for your presence- that she was looking at you.

She wasn’t.

Tossing the flowers into the nearest bin as a sour expression crossed your face, you helplessly let the thoughts of the past two hours take a hold of your heart, the poor thing constricting ever so painfully.

Clenching your jaw and hastily tossing on your headphones, you shouldered your kit bag, more than ready to get out of here- to go to a place that felt more like home than your apartment now ever would.

With you long gone before Leah even leaves the change room, you don’t get the chance to witness the way the blonde stops talking mid-conversation as she’s leaving, her stopping in place as her eyes notice the golden petals that peeked out from the top of the bin. 

It’s why you’re unknowing of the way the blonde’s heart shatters a bit more, her eyes widening, heart sinking, and head immediately hanging low as she processed the bouquet unceremoniously dumped in the trash.

And with a rough shrug to get out of Lia’s comforting pat, instead wiping away tears she refused to let fall in the presence of the few remaining teammates, Leah hurries out, discussion on how to win you back momentarily forgotten as she focuses on soothing her aching heart.

~~~

It’s a couple days later that the weight of you leaving makes itself known again to Leah. 

The past few days, the blonde had been silently stewing in the memories of you two, but had been fortunate enough that there weren’t any new stark reminders of your absence. 

But now, if Leah was honest, the feeling of you not near the blonde as she walked off the pitch post-game felt like a stabbing pain in her chest.

It was odd, the way wins didn’t feel like wins as of late.

Not when you weren’t by the blonde’s side. 

Euphoria wasn’t an emotion she felt of late, but with the absence of you in your rightful spot to the right of the blonde as she walked around the pitch, misery stung the blonde harder than before.

The high Leah (rightfully) expected after the win against United didn’t come.

It didn’t pounce on her immediately as the whistle blew at the end of the game.

It didn’t hit her like a truck as she headed towards the locker room.

It didn't sneakily creep up on her as she entered a locker room full of her fellow teammates dancing in celebration, music blasting, the joy palpable in the room.

All that sunk in was the gut wrenching feeling of regret in her chest as she timidly watched you make your way to your locker. 

For the past few days, three or so having passed since she last saw you at training, the blonde had been crashing with Lia, not that you would know. 

She’d been actively visiting your apartment, trying to find any signs of life there besides the three plants of yours she’d been watering in her visits. 

Each time though, she was left with not a single trace of you, it evident that you hadn’t been home yet. 

It was just slightly over a week of your absence, and with each passing day, Leah was losing a bit more hope, a bit more of her sanity, a bit more of her ability to feel anything but despair.

So it didn’t surprise her that the exhilaration of the win didn’t come. It was the norm. It was the norm for her now that she’d gone and fucked up. 

Rubbing a hand over her face as the sight of her teammates came into view, Leah tried to will away the spiral of thoughts in her head, headache imminent with the lack of sleep she’d had these past ten days. 

Sighing to herself at the pounding music in the room, the blonde hung her head low, trudging her way to her kit bag as she pretended to yawn in case anyone asked about her foul mood. 

If she’d looked up once though, she’d have seen your concerned look. 

She would’ve saw the way you had involuntarily turned to face the blonde as she entered, your arms itching to reach out and pull her into a hug, as you had done many times before in the safety of your own home.

But she wasn’t yours anymore. She wasn’t yours to hold, to hug, to comfort, especially anywhere but in the four walls of your apartment.

So you’d brought your arms taught around your own body, giving yourself a hug as your heart sank, a shaky breath escaping you as you closed your eyes, letting the overwhelming emotions wash over you. 

~~~

It’s as the girls are leaving the locker room that Katie remembers to invite Leah for the celebratory night out the team had planned. 

You’d been asked immediately after the game, the Irishwoman surprisingly able to sense the change in your mood as of late, doing her best to try and make you laugh more in the past few days to try and silently uplift it, bless her. 

You’d thought about going. Considered getting more than friendly with Millie, your last conversation with Leah replying easily in your mind. 

Maybe if you’d make her jealous she’d realize you still existed. 

But just as quickly as those thoughts crossed your mind, you shook yourself out of them.

If she couldn’t see your importance in her life, you weren’t about to go and beg for her to see it. You couldn’t show her something that wasn’t there.

Having then declined the offer, you’d cited your tiredness as an excuse.

Now though, you tried to act nonchalant as you eagerly awaited Leah’s answer, well aware that she was one of the last people asked.

Maybe she’d wonder whether you were. 

The blonde was tired, that was clear for all to see. But would that be enough for her to spend the night in? 

Would your absence mean she’d go home in misery, or was the blonde okay? More than over you, ready to move on?

You wondered if she’d find someone to bring home tonight. Whether she’d spend the time at the bar (that they’d inevitably, somehow end up at). Would that someone be better than you? Better company? A better girlfriend?

Hearing the immediate cheers following Leah’s quiet hum of agreeance and quiet ‘why not?’, you bit the inside of your cheek. 

God, how could you be so naive to think she’d ask if you were going?

And as your thoughts spiralled again, you felt a gentle hand come to rest on your shoulder, Steph protectively stepping into your space as she could practically feel you fall into the rabbit hole of your mind. 

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

The both of you having agreed that Australian would drop you off at her place before heading out with the team, you adamant on her enjoying the win and her night, you let yourself be led out, increasing the volume of the headphones on your ears to drown out the world, and more importantly, your mind. 

~~~ 

The air’s chilly and Leah can’t help but wrap her arms around herself a bit tighter in a futile attempt to stave off the cold.

She’d expected the crowded club that the team had arrived at to feel stuffy and hot, but it wasn’t the case. 

All the blonde could really feel was the cool breeze she couldn’t locate the source of and a constant shiver in her spine as she saw practically everyone but you there. 

Having waited all through dinner praying you’d show up, and then convincing herself you’d be there as the team decided to move things to a club, the blonde felt stupid for not remembering how you hated cramped social gatherings like these.

For the months that you were together, Leah had gotten accustomed to spending nights in, cherishing them actually, for they gave her the breather she so rarely got. 

It’s why she’d love it when you’d often pass up the nights out, giving Leah the perfect opportunity to leave events early, a smile on her face despite being called variations of ‘old’ and a ‘party-pooper’, the thought of going home to you more than overpowering the salty accusations. 

The few times you’d both gone out together with the team, it’d always ended with you two sneaking out of the celebrations early, revelling in the chaos or peace of the night as you’d trek home, more than content to be in each other’s presence.

It had gotten to the point where the few date nights the two of you had consisted of Leah convincing you to stay in. The decision was a mix of not wanting to be in the public and getting you all to herself, but she’d never tell you that. 

And yeah, sure, she’d avoided you on the nights that you’d both be out, surrounded by teammates and friends celebrating god-knows-what, but she swears she did it for your own good. You didn’t need the press, the comments, the voices that came along with the fame.

At least she made the decision you didn’t. 

It’s looking back now that she realises the implications of her actions, her avoidance of you no doubt a joke- her only failing to protect you from any hurt, instead being the one to cause you grief.

God, she really treated you and your relationship like shit…

Shaking her head to herself, mood already soured with the lack of your presence, Leah excused herself from Lia’s side, heading to the table and grabbing her coat. 

There wasn’t a point staying. Not when you weren’t there too. 

Bidding her goodbyes and ignoring the pleas to stay longer, Leah shot the Swiss captain a grateful look as she distracted a tipsy McCabe away from trying to convince her to stay. 

Taking a deep breath as she exited the stifling building, the blonde began her trek home, lost in her thoughts, wary of the empty apartment she’d no doubt be returning to. 

~~~

Steph had texted you early on in the evening, letting you know that Leah was at the dinner, and you didn’t know whether to be glad or not.

All you knew was that it was the perfect opportunity for you to finally grab your things, a change of clothes, something you desperately needed now that winter was finally kicking in. 

You’d expected the blonde to be gone at least a few hours, so you’d taken your time to show up, grabbing dinner before you had made your way over. 

What you hadn’t expected though, was the blonde cutting her night short- the clock reading near half past nine taunting you as you heard the familiar jingle of keys as the front door opened. 

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest- hell, you could hear it, as you listened to the sounds of the taller girl kicking off her boots, something you would tell her off for time and time again. 

Holding your breath as you heard Leah hang up her keys and drop her clutch on the island as she always did, you wondered if you had enough time to escape. 

Surely, you could sneak out, right?

Shaking your head at the stupid idea, you looked around you, contemplating on how you were going to get out of this.

What were you to tell the blonde? That you weren’t kicking her out of your apartment? That you instead were moving out, already having talked with your tenant about likely cancelling your lease soon. You wondered what Leah would think you’d ask for her set of keys back- for her to take her stuff to her house as you’d empty your apartment.

You wondered if she’d then realize that she’d likely ruined the last good thing you had going for you, a house you’d been staying in for nearly two years now, a place you cherished deeply but now needing to say goodbye to. 

Sighing as you took in the sight of your clothes scattered around the bedroom, clothes you’d been sorting into a ‘yours’ and ‘Leah’s’ pile, you waited to hear the movement of the blonde. 

It was only as the trudge of footsteps padding down the hall reached your ears did your throat go dry, body freezing as you anxiously anticipated seeing Leah in your bedroom for the first time in over a week. 

Swallowing hard, you wondered if this was the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning. 

~~~

Leah didn’t know how she didn’t notice the light peeking out from under the bedroom door. Nor how she missed your infamous Converse tucked behind the door. 

All she knew was that you were here. 

Here, in your apartment. 

In your shared bedroom.

And all the blonde could do was stare at the sight of you looking like a kid caught stealing out of a cookie jar, the various piles of clothes scattered around you making you look tiny.

Flexing her jaw a few times, the midfielder struggled to find any adequate words, a quiet ‘what?’ the only thing she was able to muster out. 

There’s a blanket of silence that covers the room after the word, the pair of you rooted in your spots, staring at each other. 

It’s only as Leah realises that the hoodie currently in your grasp is one of her old England ones, from camps eons ago, does the silence break.

“Wait a second- I’ve been looking for that...”

Furrowing your eyebrows, your shock long gone and anger replacing it, you did your best to keep your voice level.

“That’s your concern?”

This was the first and only chance the blonde had gotten to you since you’d broken up with her, and her concern was the hoodie you were holding. 

“You know what? Fuck off.”

Throwing the hoodie at her with all the rage you could muster, you watched as it softly hit your ex in the face, Leah pulling it off as her eyes widened. 

“Okay wait! Wait. No. Sorry. It just took me off guard…” 

Rubbing her neck sheepishly, the blonde brought the hoodie behind her in an attempt to brush over what just occurred. 

Shaking your head because of-fucking-course, you pinched the bridge of your nose, pausing for a moment before realizing just how utterly done you were with the blonde already.

Waiting a second to see if she’d continue, to see if she’d ask you how you were, what you were doing, or better yet, apologise, you sighed as silence overtook the room once again. 

Checking your watch, you figured that if you ran through all you needed to, you could be out of here by half-past-ten, a whole hour earlier than you had originally planned for. 

“Listen, all I need is like an hour then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Muttering the words, disdain clear in your voice, you started speeding up your actions, sorting the pile of clothes behind you and tossing everything that was yours into the open suitcase.

It took a minute for the defender to understand what she just heard, to comprehend what she’d witnessed.

One hour and then you’d be gone? 

Taking note of the clothes scattered across the room and recognizing her extra pairs of pyjamas and trainers in the decently-sized pile on one side, garments that looked distinctly like yours in the other, the blonde felt dread sink in.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait…what do you mean ‘out of my hair’?”

It’s as the weight of the words sunk in did Leah step into the room, squinting her eyes as her mouth fell open slightly, body rigid with concern.

Sighing deeply inwards, you ran a hand through your hair, pulling it slightly in an attempt to stave off your annoyance.

“Leah, I’m moving, yeah? It’s about time.”

You watched as the hoodie fell from the blonde’s hands, dropping unceremoniously  into ‘your’ clothes pile as she swallowed hard.

Yes the pair of you weren’t together anymore, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to move out, much less out of your own apartment, that’s for sure. 

Shaking her head as she felt her heartbeat pick up, panic in her eyes, Leah closed the distance between you.

“You’re not moving out.”

The statement was nothing of a question, hands going on her hips as the blonde eyebrows furrowed.

“I know I hurt you, but you can’t move out.”

Watching an exasperated expression cross your face, an expression that Leah was all too familiar with, having seen it every time she declined your request to post a picture of the two of you, she dropped her own shoulders, closing her eyes in defeat. 

“Please don’t move out.” 

Please don’t leave me.

“Please.”

Sorting the shirt that was in your hold, you placed your hands behind you, letting your weight fall on them as you leant back, head thrown back, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling you were very much used to seeing on lazy mornings spent with the blonde in front of you. 

Making sure your voice was steady, you closed your eyes as you spoke. 

“We’ve broken up. One of us needs to move out.”

“No...”

“Leah…”

“No.”

The second ‘no’, firmer and coupled with a definitive tone in Leah’s voice had you appalled, your eyes opening as you righted yourself and faced her

“No? Leah, I’ve spent enough time seeing you with another woman outside of this apartment. I’m not in the fucking mood to see it here as well, in my apartment.”

You waited to see if she’d offer to move out instead, considering this was your place after all. 

You waited, only to be met with silence. 

Guess it was a good thing you didn’t wanna stay here anyways. 

“I mean it. Please don’t go…”

The timid voice had your shoulders dropping. 

Sure, she broke your heart, but it didn’t mean you were heartless.

Deciding to humour her, for your own sake- you wanted to see just what her justification would be, you hummed in response.

“Why?”

She’d broken your heart enough. So why was it that she was asking you to stay? 

You watched as the always-confident blonde wrung her fingers, her head hung low as she stared into the ground. 

“I still love you…”

The weight of the words blanketed the room in quiet. Or it might have been the blood rushing in your ears. Either way, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing- unable to do anything but sigh in response, mind a frenzy. 

Racking through your brain to find the right words to say, you curse at the universe for aligning so maliciously. 

“You can’t just say that.”

“Ba-“

“No.” Cutting her off, your voice raising slightly, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You can’t say that. You can’t say that when you’ve practically been a stranger to me any place outside of these four walls. You can’t say that when all you’ve done is gone and break my heart multiple- Leah, multiple times. You can’t say that when you haven’t once rung me in the week that we’ve broken up. You don’t get to call me ‘baby’ anymore and you don’t get to say those three words anymore.”

You’re breathing heavily by the time you finish, having gone and stood up at some point during that rant. 

Eyes level with Leah’s as there’s a defiant look in your eyes, you wait.

You wait to see just what excuse she’d come up with this time.

“I didn’t-“

Lips pursing, you rolled your eyes. You knew how these words always ended.

“Let me guess…you didn’t know if I wanted to hear from you, yeah?”

You watched as she nodded sheepishly, nearly curling into herself as your voice got sharper with each word. 

“Y’know…I told myself that maybe if I waited long enough, that you’d eventually care enough. Told myself that if I tried hard enough, loved you enough, was a better player, a better girlfriend, maybe I would’ve been good enough for you. That you’d want me as much as I want you.”

You watched as Leah looked at you, it clear that she was itching to say something, but you continued. 

“I spent the last week with my ringer on, do not disturb off, hoping you’d call. Hoping you’d text. Send me a message, someway, somehow. Anything that would let you know me breaking up with you killed you as much as it killed me. And what did I get? Nothing.”

Your voice is quiet as the final word slips through, the both of you staring at each other, the room an outright mess with the clothes strewn around, suitcase open beside where you were sat.

Truth be told, you didn’t want this to end. 

You didn’t.

All you wanted was for Leah to realize your importance in her life. And whether that was good or bad, you wanted to know where you stood- because you’d stick around if she loved you, but you couldn’t bear to stay if you weren’t wanted. 

You couldn’t light a candle in the rain. 

Watching as Leah flexed her jaw once, then twice before inhaling deeply, you felt a chill go up your spine as anticipation slowly killed you. 

“It hurt more than I could ever imagine…”

The confession was quiet, barely a whisper, but it had your attention, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other girl.

“It’s killed me every time I’ve come to this apartment alone y’know? Every single time I’ve walked into this place and you’re not behind me yelling at me to put away my shoes properly.”

Swallowing her emotions down and steadying her voice, she continued.

“Do you want to know how wrong it felt, driving to practise without you beside me? Without your humming and singing? Or how much it sucks not being able to stand beside you at practice. Or how the only thing I’ve wanted these past few days is just one of your hugs- the ones you give me when you know I’m not feeling well, too tired to do anything but cuddle you?”

“It’s stupid, but I’ve visited- stayed- at your place nearly every day since our breakup, hoping each day that you’d come back and I could- we could talk. That I could make it up to you. I’ve missed you. I really have. More than anything else ever- I swear. Spent the first night and the second too, on your couch, hugging your favourite cushion and your international hoodie.”

Smiling bitterly to herself at the memory, the blonde wiped away the few tears that had escaped.

Feeling your eyes starting to sting as you remembered just how gruelling the first few days had been for you, you quickly wiped away the one lone tear that managed to escape, holding back the oncoming sniffles.

Feeling your chest rise as you did your best to loosen the anxious feeling in your chest, you stayed rooted to your spot, too afraid to move for fear that Leah would stop talking.

“Did you read the note?”

The question was small, especially after the large confession just moments ago, and it had you nodding in response, scared that you’d break the atmosphere in the room if you spoke too loud.

“I-,” Leah cleared her throat, running a hand through her own hair as her gaze met yours again. 

“I meant it y’know? Seeing you and just you in my future? I wanna fix this…us. I’d really like to fix what I broke, if you’d let me.”

Biting back a grimace because wow, were you really about to give her the power to break your heart again. The one thing you told yourself you wouldn’t let her do- not anymore.

“I don’t know how to trust you again…”

You knew the words were harsh, but they were the truth.

How could you trust someone that single handedly broke your heart over and over again. 

Holding your breath as you watched Leah slowly step forward, inching towards you until she was merely inches away from where you stood, you wondered if you could ever let the blonde back in. 

“One chance is all I ask for. I’ll earn your trust again, I swear. Just please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.”

You watched as her fingers flexed, jaw clenching and unclenching as the blonde fought herself internally. 

As she made a decision, you smiled at the way the little crease between her eyebrows disappeared, a place you loved to kiss whenever the blonde was upset about the movie you’d choose for movie nights. 

So caught up in your memories, you were only jolted out of the dreamland your mind went to as you felt Leah hesitantly grab your hand, the touch cautious and feather-like as she tried to gauge your reaction. 

Looking down at your intertwined hands, you bit your lip, one question floating around your mind. 

“Are you planning for us to continue being a secret or…?”

Closing your eyes as you waited for her answer, you wondered if this would be the last time you’d feel Leah’s touch. 

You knew you couldn’t bear to be a secret. You liked private, sure, but all you really wanted to do was be you. Be you and her, and be able to show the world that, without bounds. 

“No.”

Eyes flying open, you narrowed your eyes at Leah, surprised by the confident tone, so sure of herself, so assured, that it nearly had you convinced. 

“And if you let me down?”

“Then I’ll leave your life myself, just say the words and I’ll go. But I don’t plan to let you down. Not again. Not ever. I don’t want a life without you. I’ve had a taste of if, and fuck, I needed that. I needed that because I know I’d rather deal with everyone’s comments, everyone’s judgement, their prying, their invasive questions, than lose you.” 

Swallowing hard at those words, you felt your shoulders relax, mind and heart practically numb with the overwhelming emotions you were feeling. 

Words a whisper, tears silently falling down your cheeks as the weight of the past week hit you, you prayed that you never felt this type of hurt again. 

“Hurt me again and I’ll break your kneecaps alright?” 

And letting yourself be pulled into the taller girl’s embrace, you let yourself sink into her hug, a warmth you’d missed so dearly, so fervently in the past few days- a hug that even the best Calvin cuddle couldn’t compare to, you let out a sigh.

Things weren’t alright yet. They weren’t going to be for a while. 

But this was a step in the right direction. A step you’d take, praying to the universe that it wouldn’t let you fall- at least not without someone to catch you. 

You just hoped it would be Leah- she was the only one you wanted to catch you when you fell. You just had to trust her word that she would. 

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[The Last Dance] Simon “Ghost” Riley*Reader

Hurt and a bit of comfort? maybe?

poor Simon, someone please send me some fluff ideas for him or I’m unable to stop writing angst about him. (cuz that’s the only thing in my note for him)

word count: 744

You never visit his dreams.

Every day he’s a walking corpse, mindlessly doing what he should done, saying goodnight to his teammates, and coming back to his quarter, hoping he can see you one more time.

but he never dreams of you these days, despite how desperate he is.

“You need some rest, I can give you a few weeks of leave, Simon.” He simply shakes his head at Price’s suggestion.

There’s no home waiting for him anymore, a haven for him to sleep soundly.

Until the night Simon deems he hit his limits, you finally appear in his dream.

There stood you, at the quiet bay you two always date, your usual smile lingering on the face imprinted in his heart.

He runs, stumbles a few times maybe, but he never stops his feet until he’s in front of you.

“Simon.”

“I fucking miss you... god...” He pulls you into his arms immediately, squeezing hard so you won’t flee from him by any chance.

He just buries his face to hide his sobs as you rub his back comfortingly.

“You should move on, honey.” You break the silence first.

“How am I supposed to?” He can feel his face stained with tears, but he pays no mind to it, eyes never leave yours, letting them stream his sorrow down.

“Remember the dance we always do?” As he leans into your fingers that are wiping his tears, he hears you ask softly.

“I never forget.”

“Hey, let’s do it again, yeah?”

Your soft hands — cold, he notices — guide him to the proper posture, and leads the dance start.

He remembers the first day you tried to teach him the dance, and he reluctantly agreed.

He remembers the first time he didn’t step on your toes, and you praised him cheerfully.

He remembers those days he held you close and giggled with you during the dance, at here.

Swaying slowly along you, waltzing in a graceful circle, you sing the music just like you always did when dancing with him.

As you breeze to the last tone, both of you stop at the same place, nothing moves except the waves hitting the cliff beneath.

“Better now?”

“No.” He admits through a hiccup.

“Still so honest huh” you laugh “but listen to me, Simon.”

He lets you cradle his face in your palms, he hates that your hands are so cold, unlike the warmth he stole from you in winter.

“You can find a way to remember me, but don’t let me leash you in the past.”

“Keep going, my love, protect those people that you love when they’re still aside.”

The seriousness on your face is what he never gets from you before, he just stares at you, and eventually, nods his head.

“That’s my man.”

You let go of him, satisfied.

“Time to go now” you take a look at the sky and face him again. “before that, can you smile for me one last time? You know I love it.”

“I’m bloody ugly right now.” He sighs, but he still manages to pull his lips into a contorted grin.

“Well, true”

“but still the most handsome man for me.”

- - - - - -

Simon opens his eyes.

4 am, the clock indicates, earlier than the alarm he set, but he has a plan today.

“Only one day off?” Price crooks his eyebrows when he signs the paper for Simon to have permission to leave.

“Yeah, one day’s enough.”

Walking to the parking lot, he jumps into his car and starts driving to his destination.

The tranquil feelings he hasn’t experienced for months accompany him on his journey to the bay.

Everything’s the same as he visited here last time. Still a silent bay without people, the sea spuming over the cliff, filling the air with soothing crashes of the surf.

He’s afraid of visiting here after you leave, the emptiness is deafening without your singing.

Unsurprisingly, the hollow in his heart becomes more painful as he steps to the same spot in his dream last night.

Yet still, he gazes at the ocean for a good while, and chants out the song lowly.

The cavity in his bleeding heart starts healing.

[luvtak]

baby i'm yours, lee felix

✧ pairing lee felix x gn!reader

✧ genre/tw fluffy fluff! kinda hurt/comfort, reader has a migraine and felix is a little lovebug as always, too many petnames, kissing and sleepy cuddles

✧ w/c 1000

✧ a/n something small inspired by my own migraines, i hope anyone who relates starts to feel better and feels comforted by the sweetest boy <3 title is after this song it reminds me of him 💗

The house is filled with sound, circling around the space with laughter and music and video game noise. Lively melodies of boyishness, teasing and yelling; roughhousing so loud you’re sure the neighbors can hear.

The house is filled with sound, all except for your place in Felix’s room. Behind the door it’s silent, no sound but your gentle breath hitting his skin. He’s always so warm, a space heater personified, heating you everywhere his star-studded skin touches. You can feel his smile moving across your neck, placing soft little kisses on his path from your clavicle to your throat, all the way up to the side of your mouth.

“Feeling better?” he asks, his voice is gruff from lack of use and his eyes are light when they meet yours. His question seems more like a wish than an inquiry, he always worries when you get these headaches. Pain throbbing underneath your eyes and inside your temples, sometimes you feel so sick, nausea begins to accompany the migraine, and the only thing your boyfriend can do is wrap you up in his arms and his blankets and hope for the best.

You both know it’s easier to cure these moments away from the boy’s dorm. The cozy quiet of your apartment is much better suited to comfort the constant pounding, but there’s something magic to the noise. A curious familiarity surrounds the home, in some ways it reminds you of being a little kid and going to bed to the sounds of your parents still awake. A memory from an easier life, a moment trapped in time, but relived in these hurtful days inside this room.

“Just a little, I’m sorry I’m not very fun right now.” Your voice is a whisper, and your eyes are still squinted shut, but you hope your words are enough to convince him to stop worrying.

“Don’t be sorry, my love, I’m having a blast laying here with you.” Felix’s grin is sunlight, as bright and pretty as the rest of him, and you think it doesn’t matter if he’s lying—your head is already starting to ease just from the sight of your starshine boy smiling down at you.

His hands are in your hair and his smile is on your forehead, and you think you’ll be better in a few minutes. When you came over you had plans to watch movies and play Mario Kart with the rest of the boys, and maybe in just a few more minutes you can. You can almost envision it, opening up your eyes to a clear head and telling Felix that you feel so much better, joining the rest of the dorm in their night of laughter instead of this sickly quiet you currently inhabit.

You can tell your boyfriend doesn’t mind, he’s always happy to take care of you, but you’re sorry that another fun night has become the opposite.

“Really, Lixie, Go have fun with the boys… I can do all this by myself.” You don’t want him to go, but you need him not to feel trapped. Popping one eye open, you can tell what he thinks about that offer—if the slight squint of his eyes having anything to do with his emotions, he must think you’re crazy for even posing it as an option.

“And what? Sit in the living room with people I see every day instead of lying here with you? Are you insane?” He’s laughing as he says it, and his arms escape from your hair to gently play with your fingers. “You must be, my crazy little love… where does it hurt?”

His touch is light as a feather, pulling at your hands and rubbing up and down your arms. The skin to skin contact makes you shiver, even after all this time all it takes is a few gentle touches to start up the butterflies in your belly. You tell him about the pain under your eyes, huffing and whining when his body moves too much atop yours, but you stop as soon as his lips land softly on your eyelid; pressing down gentle and tender where the pain started.

“A kiss to make it feel better, okay baby?” Even through the pain his voice (so deep and quiet in the dark room) makes you smile. So typical of him, to be as sweet and sugary as the treats he cooks up. A boy who grew up on kiss cures and tickle fights, what a blessing to have him lay with you in the dark.

You’ve been smitten with him from the first time he shot his shiny smile at you, in love with each picture perfect piece of him. With hands grasping out to hold his, you kiss wherever you can reach: his shoulder first than the divot of his adams apple, all the way up to his uplifting lips.

“I love you, sweet boy… thank you for being with me.” You can’t tell if you mean here in the moment, or just in general, but either way it’s true. You’ll never stop being grateful for his place in your life, a light in the darkness and a heart to hold you when you don’t feel good.

He kisses you again instead of a response, slow and closed mouthed—desperately trying to express his feelings in all the ways he knows how.

“I love you too, you know I do.” He rolls off you, tucking you just underneath his chin; keeping you as close as possible. Legs on legs and hands clasped together, you can’t seem to find where you begin and he finishes—you’re as close as you could be with your warm pajamas on.

Everything is burning up, his skin and your love for him. So, cozy you can’t help but feel your eyes flutter close again. This close you can hear all his sounds, his heartbeat and his breath, and his sweet voice like a lullaby lulling you to sleep.

© luvtak

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Shattered.

adjective ‘very upset’

in which, your trying to live a normal life as much as you can, but when you bump into the handsome doctor again, and realise he’s got questions, questions that you can’t answer and thats when you realise just how much your longing for that perfect fairy tale ending.

word count - 5.6k

authors note - ahhh!! i’m so sorry that the wait for this chapter has been so long, but i’ve got over my writers block now and am so excited to get back to writing for your guys, before we start i would just like to thank the beautiful @missbearforfun for helping me with this story, i honestly would not have been able to do this without them, so mwah!!

warnings - mentions of domestic abuse, hospitals, some mild swearing, corey, and nightmares. (if i’ve missed anything please don’t refrain from letting me know!!)

August 30th, 2022.

As you jogged around the local park, the rhythmic thud of your footsteps echoed against the pavement, accompanied by the familiar melodies of Fleetwood Mac streaming through your headphones. With your water bottle in hand, you embraced the solitude of the early morning, relishing in the peaceful ambiance of the park.

Lost in the music and the rhythm of your steps, you rounded a bend in the path and nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. Startled, you stumbled backward, the sudden interruption jolting you out of your reverie. As your headphones slipped slightly, the sound of the stranger's voice broke through the silence.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" The voice was accompanied by a concerned expression, and as you looked up, you found yourself gazing into the eyes of a man, who looked just that little bit older to you.

His concern was genuine, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put you at ease.

Brushing off the near collision with a sheepish grin, you assured him that you were fine. He lingered for a moment, his easy smile infectious, and before you knew it, you were engaged in conversation.

"Sorry about that, I should've been paying more attention," The man spoke with a chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"It's okay, no harm done," you replied, returning his smile.

"I'm Corey."

"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you replied, returning his smile.

As the conversation continued, Corey's easygoing charm put you at ease.

"So, do you come here often?" he asked, his tone playful.

"Yeah, I try to jog here a few times a week. It's a great way to clear my head," you explained, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Corey nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I totally get that. There's something about being outdoors that's really refreshing."

Before parting ways, Corey hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Hey, I know this is perhaps a bit forward, but would you be interested in going for a jog together sometime?"

A smile spread across your face at the invitation.

"I'd like that."

February 4th, 2024.

Standing behind the counter at the cafe where you work, you felt a dull ache resonate through your body with every breath you took in. Corey's words from a few days ago echoed in your mind, urging you to discharge yourself from the hospital, convinced that you were wasting the doctors' time.

Now, as you struggled through the pain, you couldn't help but wonder if he was right.

He usually was.

Your hair was tied up in a high ponytail, a practical choice to keep it out of the way as you worked. The familiar routine of wiping down the coffee machine provided a small distraction from the discomfort that gnawed at you.

Despite the bustling atmosphere of the cafe, you felt isolated in your pain. Corey's presence loomed large in your mind, his words echoing like a relentless refrain. The memory of what he had done last night weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over even the simplest of tasks.

"There’s no reason for you to be here," Corey insisted, his voice dripping with irritation. "The doctors have better things to do than waste their time on someone who doesn't need to be here."

You winced as his fingers dug into your shoulders, his nails leaving angry red marks that threatened to break the skin. The pain in your ribs intensified with each shallow breath, a relentless reminder of the trauma you endured.

But Corey's words cut deeper than any physical wound, adding a layer of guilt and self-doubt to your already overwhelming emotions.

"B-but I'm in pain," you protested weakly, your voice barely above a whisper, your stutter more pronounced in the face of his anger.

Corey's impatience only seemed to grow as he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. "You're fine. It's probably just a bruise or something. You don't need to be taking up a hospital bed for that."

As he spoke, you felt a familiar sense of unease settle over you. It wasn't the first time Corey had minimized your pain and dismissed your need for medical attention. With each passing moment, the weight of his words bore down on you, chipping away at your already fragile sense of self-worth.

Despite the doubts that gnawed at you, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if Corey was right. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were wasting the doctors' time. But deep down, beneath the layers of doubt and fear, you knew that your pain was real, and that you deserved to be heard.

"Please, Corey," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "I-I need to stay here. I-I need help."

But Corey's patience had worn thin, his frustration boiling over into anger.

"You're being ridiculous," he snapped, his grip on your shoulders tightening. "Get up and leave. Now."

As tears welled up in your eyes, you felt a sense of helplessness wash over you. Trapped between the pain in your body and the cruelty of Corey's words, you struggled to find the strength to stand up for yourself.

Just over a year ago, you were looking for a way to get some money into your bank account, and there was this little cafe on a road called Canal Street, that you had noticed was hiring.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you hesitated at the threshold, unsure if you had the courage to step inside. Pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, you took a deep breath and entered, the chime of the bell announcing your arrival.

Inside, you were greeted by the sight of a cozy interior, filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Your nerves danced beneath the surface as you approached the counter, where a kind, elderly couple stood, their faces etched with warmth and hospitality.

With hesitant steps, you inquired about the vacant position, your voice barely above a whisper. The woman behind the counter noticed your trembling hands and the uncertainty in your eyes. With a gentle smile, she ushered you to sit down at one of the empty tables, her soft touch calming the jitters that threatened to consume you.

As she reached across to still your shaking hands, her touch was like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

February 6th, 2024.

On this rare sunny day in Manchester, Dr. Styles, known as Harry to his family, strolled leisurely around the duck pond with his six-year-old nephew, Noah.

It was a tradition for Harry to spend Tuesday afternoonswith Noah, (he always picked him up after school and they always did something to tire the young boy out) his designated day off during the week, cherishing these moments of familial connection amidst his demanding schedule.

Thursdays marked his other day of respite, but it was Tuesdays that held a special place in their hearts.

As they ambled along the winding path, Harry watched with fondness as Noah skipped ahead, his youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the calm demeanor of his uncle. The vibrant hues of the surrounding greenery were accentuated by the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground below.

The tranquil atmosphere of the duck pond enveloped them, the rhythmic quacking of the ducks providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Noah's animated chatter filled the air as he regaled Harry with tales of his adventures at school, his innocent enthusiasm infectious.

Harry listened attentively, his heart swelling with pride at the boundless imagination and curiosity of his nephew. Despite the demands of his profession, moments like these served as a reminder of the simple joys in life, grounding him in the present and offering solace amidst the chaos of the world.

As they strolled around the duck pond, Noah's eyes sparkled with excitement as he spotted the ducks gliding gracefully across the water.

"Uncle H, can we feed the ducks?" he asked eagerly, his voice filled with anticipation.

Harry's heart sank as he realized he had forgotten to bring bread for the ducks. With a sigh, he crouched down to Noah's eye level and explained, "M’sorry, buddy, but I forgot to bring bread today. We can't feed the ducks without any bread."

Noah's face fell, disappointment evident in his expression.

"But I really wanted to feed the ducks," he lamented, his lower lip trembling slightly.

Just as Harry was about to offer consolation, Noah's gaze shifted to an elderly couple sitting on a nearby bench, feeding the ducks slices of bread from a small bag.

"Look, Uncle H, they have bread! Can we ask them for a slice?" Noah exclaimed, his excitement returning at the prospect of feeding the ducks.

Harry hesitated, his brow furrowing in uncertainty.

"Noah, buddy, we can't just ask people f’their bread," he began, but before he could finish, Noah was already darting towards the elderly couple, his enthusiasm undeterred.

"Excuse me, can we have some bread to feed the ducks, please? My uncle H forgot!" Noah asked earnestly, his eyes wide with hope as he approached the couple.

The elderly woman smiled kindly at Noah, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

"Of course, dear. Here, take a slice," she said, offering him a piece of bread from the bag.

And just like that Noah was running off towards the water, as Harry kept a watchful eye on the young boy he cared so deeply for.

As Noah happily fed the ducks with the bread he had received from the kind elderly couple, Harry approached them with a grateful smile.

"Thank y’so much f’letting him have some bread. M’sorry about him, he's not shy to ask for anything from anyone," Harry apologized, his tone apologetic yet amused.

The women smiled warmly at Harry's words.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. We're happy to share," she replied kindly, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watched Noah's delight.

The man who was accompanying her chuckled, his deep voice carrying a sense of camaraderie.

"That's the spirit. Kids have a way of reminding us to embrace life's simple pleasures," he remarked, nodding towards Noah.

Harry found himself drawn into conversation with the couple, their easygoing demeanor putting him at ease.

"M’name's Harry, by the way," he introduced himself, extending a hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Mary, and this is my husband, Barney," Mary replied, shaking Harry's hand with a firm grip. "We've been coming to this duck pond every Tuesday for as long as I can remember."

Barney nodded in agreement.

"It's become a bit of a tradition for us. We find it's the perfect way to spend our day off together," he explained, a fond smile playing on his lips.

As they chatted, Harry learned more about Mary and Barney's life together – their love of nature, their shared interests, and the joy they found in the simple pleasures of everyday life. He found himself opening up to them, sharing stories of his own experiences and adventures with Noah.

"There's something special about being out in nature, isn't there? It's good for the soul," Mary remarked, her gaze wandering across the tranquil expanse of the duck pond.

Harry nodded in agreement, a sense of peace settling over him.

"Absolutely. S’moments like these that make life truly meaningful," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Talking to the two of them seemed to stop time, and before he knew it, the sun was already starting to set in the background.

As Harry glanced down at the Apple Watch on his wrist, he realized the time had flown by faster than he had anticipated.

He clapped his hands together, a smile tugging at his lips, and said, "Well, I best get going. Noah's got to have his dinner soon."

Mary and Barney nodded understandingly, their faces reflecting the warmth of their earlier conversation.

Just as Harry began to turn away, Mary's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Before you go, young man, I wanted to mention something," Mary said, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Barney and I actually own a café on the corner of Canal Street called Timeless Brews. If you ever find yourself in the area, you're more than welcome to pop by. We'd love to see you."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Thank you, Mary. That's incredibly kind of you," he replied gratefully. "I'll definitely make sure to stop by sometime."

Barney chimed in with a hearty chuckle.

"Consider it an open invitation, Harry. We'd be delighted to have you as our guest," he said warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

As Harry bid farewell to Mary and Barney, a sense of gratitude filled his heart.

In just a short time, he had forged a connection with this kindhearted couple, and he couldn't help but feel touched by their generosity. With a final wave, he turned to Noah, who was already bounding ahead, eager to continue their adventure.

As they walked away from the duck pond, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and camaraderie that lingered in the air. He knew that he had made two new friends today, and he looked forward to the possibility of visiting Timeless Brews and sharing more conversations with Mary and Barney in the future.

From a young age, Harry's fascination with the world of medicine was sparked by a pivotal moment in his childhood. At the tender age of ten, he found himself in the confines of a hospital room, his ankle throbbing with pain after a clumsy fall. As he lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by the reassuring presence of doctors and nurses,

Harry knew with unwavering certainty that he wanted to dedicate his life to helping others in the same way they had helped him.

Driven by this newfound sense of purpose, Harry immersed himself in his studies, excelling academically and setting his sights on a future in medicine. At the age of eighteen, his hard work and dedication paid off when he received the news of his acceptance into Oxford University's prestigious Doctor of Medicine program.

With a heart full of ambition and determination, Harry embarked on this new chapter of his life with unwavering resolve.

Over the course of six intense years, Harry immersed himself in the rigors of medical education, delving deep into the intricacies of the human body and honing his skills as a healer.

With each passing year, he grew more confident in his abilities and more passionate about his chosen field, fueled by a relentless desire to make a difference in the lives of others.

Upon graduating from Oxford at the age of twenty-four, Harry's journey had only just begun. Armed with knowledge, experience, and an unyielding commitment to his calling, he eagerly embraced the opportunity to put his skills to the test in the real world.

Eight months later, he found himself walking the halls of The Manchester Royal Infirmary, a newly minted doctor ready to embark on the next phase of his career.

Now, at the age of twenty-six, Harry finds himself living his dream. He's found fulfillment and purpose in his work, relishing the challenges and rewards that come with each day in the hospital.

Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle of his professional life, there lingers a quiet longing for something more – the perfect partner to share his journey with.

And then, you walked into the hospital – an ethereal presence that captivated Harry from the moment he laid eyes on you. Though he knows he must maintain a professional demeanor, there's an undeniable pull, a spark of connection that ignites within him at the sight of you.

As he goes about his duties, his thoughts drift to you, everything about you, wondering if fate will bring them together once more.

10th February, 2024.

As Harry's shift at the hospital came to an end, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The late shift, starting at 10:45 pm and ending at 9 am, had been a challenging one.

He had encountered a variety of cases, from a patient with a shard of glass lodged near a femoral artery to a young man suffering from alcohol intoxication who had vomited uncontrollably.

Despite the intensity of these emergencies, Harry had remained calm and composed, providing expert care and ensuring the safety of his patients.

Now, as he made his way out of the hospital, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of exhaustion creeping in. The long hours had taken their toll, but he knew that his dedication to his profession was unwavering. He looked forward to the weekend ahead, eager to recharge and spend time with loved ones.

As he walked through the hospital corridors, Harry's thoughts turned to his aspirations for advancement within the medical field. He had been diligently working towards a promotion to become the Clinical Lead, a position currently held by Marcus, who was set to retire soon.

Harry knew that achieving this goal would require dedication and perseverance, but he was determined to rise to the challenge.

As Harry made his way towards the exit, he detoured towards the doctor's desk where his colleague Miranda was stationed.

"Hey, M," he greeted her with a tired but friendly smile. "Just wanted t’give y’a heads up about the patient in cubicle five. They're allergic to morphine, but it wasn't in their notes, so be sure to double-check before administering any medication. Oh, and they're booked in for a CT scan at eleven o'clock."

Miranda nodded, her expression attentive as she took note of Harry's instructions.

"Got it, thanks for letting me know, Haz. I'll make sure to handle it," she assured him, her voice calm and confident.

Just as Harry was about to head out, another colleague approached him. It was Mitch, with his signature man bun and glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

Mitch was most definitely one of his best friends, they shared a dorm at Oxford and were lucky enough to both get a job at the same hospital. Mitch was specialised in paediatrics so they hardly saw each other when working but when they did they always had a good time.

They sometimes ate together on there lunch breaks.

"Hey, bud," Mitch greeted him with a grin. "What shifts are you doing tomorrow?"

Harry glanced at his watch before replying,

"I'm on an early. I'll be in f’seven," he answered, his tone weary but determined.

Mitch nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic.

"Early shift, huh? Well, try to get some rest, mate. You've earned it," he said, patting Harry on the back in a gesture of camaraderie.

"Thanks, man. I'll do m’best," Harry replied with a grateful smile, appreciating the support from his colleague.

As Harry stepped out of the hospital's exit, the cool morning breeze greeted him, stirring a newfound hunger in his stomach. It had been nearly five hours since his last meal, and the thought of a hearty breakfast was tantalizing. Toast sounded particularly appealing at the moment, simple yet satisfying.

Recalling the conversation he had with the couple at the park the other day, Harry remembered their mention of a cafe they owned nearby. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered the possibility of finding a cozy spot to enjoy a meal. The idea of supporting a local business while indulging in some much-needed nourishment appealed to him greatly.

With determination in his stride, Harry made his way to his black Range Rover parked nearby. Slipping behind the wheel, he navigated the bustling streets of Canal Street, the anticipation of discovering a new culinary gem fueling his excitement. Despite the morning rush, he remained focused on his mission, determined to satisfy his hunger with a delicious meal.

After a brief ten-minute drive, Harry finally found a parking space outside the cafe. With a sense of satisfaction, he turned off the engine and stepped out of his car, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. With each step towards the entrance, Harry's anticipation grew, eager to experience what the cafe had to offer.

As Harry entered the cafe, a small bell above the door tinkled lightly, announcing his arrival. He scanned the cozy interior, his eyes immediately landing on an inviting empty table by the window. Making his way over, he settled into the chair, already relishing the prospect of a hot cup of coffee and some toast.

Before he could even glance at the menu, the elderly woman from the park approached his table with a warm smile.

"Well, look who it is! I'm so glad you decided to stop by," she greeted him cheerfully.

Harry returned her smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and warmth in her presence.

"I couldn't resist," he admitted.

The woman beamed with delight.

"Oh, I'm thrilled to hear that! Someone will be with you shortly to take your order. In the meantime, make yourself at home," she said warmly before bustling off to attend to another customer.

Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of comfort settle over him in the quaint surroundings of the cafe.

As you stand behind the counter, wiping down the coffee machine, Mary, approaches you with a gentle smile.

"Table nine needs to have his order taken," she informs you kindly.

You nod in acknowledgment, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in your ribs and your lower leg.

Retrieving your notepad and pen from under the counter, you attempt to conceal your limp as you make your way over to table nine.

Approaching the table, you and Harry seem to recognize each other simultaneously.

Both of your eyes widen.

Both your mouths go dry.

You blink a few times, getting yourself out of the daze you seem to be captured in as you muster up a fake smile and ask him what he'd like to order.

Before you can finish your question, Harry interrupts you, his voice filled with concern.

"I wondered what had happened t’you," he admits, his gaze searching yours.

You tilt your head to the side, feigning innocence, though you know exactly what he's referring to.

"Oh, it was nothing serious," you reply casually, hoping to brush off the topic.

But it was.

Harry sighs, his expression filled with sincerity.

"Y’discharged yourself before your X-ray," he points out, his tone gentle yet firm. "You wouldn't have done that. You know doctors are there to help people."

You let out a resigned sigh, knowing he's right but unwilling to admit it.

"I didn't want to waste the doctor's time," you murmur, avoiding his gaze as you fiddle with your pen.

Harry's brow furrows in concern.

"Every patient is important, Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

He remembers your name?

"Y’shouldn't have discharged yourself. What happened to you?"

You muster up a fake laugh, hoping to deflect his concern.

"Oh, it was nothing much," you reply nonchalantly, though the memories of the past week weigh heavily on your mind. "Just a few bumps and bruises. I'm fine now."

Harry sighs, his expression troubled.

"I was there to help you," he says earnestly, his eyes searching yours. "And I'll always be here to help you. Y’don’t have to go through these things alone.”

Harry's gaze remains fixed on you, his concern evident as he waits for your response.

You shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, the weight of his words weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you say, your voice tinged with reluctance. "But really, there's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

Harry's brow furrows further, his concern deepening.

"Y/N, I can see that you're in pain," he observes, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You bite your lip, torn between the urge to confide in him and the instinct to keep your struggles hidden.

"It's just... life, you know?" you reply evasively, hoping to deflect his questions. "Nothing I can't handle."

Harry's gaze softens, his empathy shining through as he reaches out a hand towards yours.

"You don't have to handle everything on y’own, Y/N," he says softly. "Sometimes s’okay to lean on others for support."

You pull away slightly, the walls around your heart growing stronger as you push him away.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you repeat, your voice firmer this time. "But I'm fine. Really."

Harry's expression falls, a flicker of hurt passing through his eyes before he nods in reluctant acceptance.

"Okay," he says quietly, though the disappointment lingers in his voice. "If y’ever need someone to talk to, m’here."

But where would you ever find him?

You shift your focus to the menu in front of you, grateful for the temporary distraction it provides.

"And what can I get for you today?" you ask, forcing a polite smile as you glance up at Harry.

His gaze flickers down to the menu briefly before returning to meet yours.

"Just a black coffee with a tuna panini, please," he replies, his voice calm and composed.

You nod, scribbling down his order on your notepad as you fight to maintain your composure.

"Sure thing," you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your ribs.

With a tight smile, you turn away, doing your best to conceal the slight limp in your step as you make your way back to the counter.

You walk over to the coffee machine, the familiar hum of its machinery offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil swirling within you. With practiced efficiency, you begin the process of brewing Harry's black coffee, the rich aroma filling the air as the dark liquid flows into the waiting cup.

As the coffee finishes brewing, you carefully pour it into a ceramic cup, the warmth seeping through the porcelain and into your hands. Despite the ache in your ribs and the lingering pain in your leg, you focus on the task at hand, determined to see it through with unwavering precision.

You carefully balance the tray in one hand, holding Harry's black coffee securely as you navigate your way back to his table.

Despite your best efforts to conceal it, the persistent ache in your ribs and the throbbing pain in your leg threaten to betray you with every step.

As you approach Harry's table, your foot catches on an uneven tile, sending you stumbling forward. Your heart races as you fight to regain your balance, but it's too late.

With a sharp crack, the glass mug slips from your grasp, shattering into pieces on the floor in front of you.

A gasp escapes your lips as you watch the coffee spill across the tiles, the warm liquid mingling with the shards of broken glass. Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment floods through you, your pulse pounding in your ears as you struggle to compose yourself.

Harry's concerned voice cuts through the chaos, his words a blur as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his brow furrowed with worry as he rushes to your side.

You freeze at the sound of his voice, your heart pounding in your chest as a surge of panic threatens to overwhelm you.

Memories of Corey's anger and violence flood your mind, leaving you trembling in fear.

Harry's hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, but you flinch away instinctively, your body tensing with apprehension.

"Easy, easy," he murmurs softly, his voice gentle as he takes a step closer. "I just want to make sure y’alright."

The sincerity in Harry's words sends a jolt of conflicting emotions coursing through you. Part of you longs to believe him, to surrender to the warmth of his concern and let him chase away the shadows that haunt you.

But another part, hardened by years of trauma, recoils from his touch, wary of the vulnerability that comes with trust.

Struggling to find your voice amidst the turmoil raging within you, you take a shaky step back, your gaze darting nervously around the room.

"I'm... I'm fine," you manage to choke out, though the words taste like ash on your tongue.

Harry's expression softens, his eyes filled with genuine concern as he takes in your trembling form.

"Y’don't look fine," he says gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let me help you."

The sincerity in Harry's voice is like a lifeline in the darkness, offering you a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. But the walls you've built around your heart remain steadfast, the fear of vulnerability too great to overcome.

With a heavy heart, Harry watches as you push yourself to your feet and bolt towards the back of the cafe, disappearing from sight before he can reach out to stop you.

Left standing amidst the wreckage, he can't help but feel a pang of regret, knowing that he's let you slip through his fingers once again. But deep down, he knows that he won't give up on you, not when there's still a chance to break through the walls that surround your wounded heart.

He flickers his eyes up, and catches the eyes of Barney, but the elderly man just casts his eyes back down to the floor.

As you reach the relative safety of the back room, you lean against the wall, gasping for breath as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

The sound of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears, a relentless reminder of the darkness that lurks within you, threatening to swallow you whole.

LATER THAT NIGHT….

Corey storms into the room, his footsteps heavy with anger.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you shrink back against the headboard, clutching your book tightly to your chest.

"Why isn't there any food on the table?" Corey's voice cuts through the silence like a knife, his tone sharp with frustration.

You stutter out a feeble excuse, explaining that you only just got home from work and haven't had time to cook anything.

"But... I was thinking... maybe we could order takeout?" you offer tentatively, your voice trembling with apprehension.

The suggestion only seems to fuel his rage further.

"You know I don't like eating fast food," he snaps, his voice laced with contempt as he strides towards you.

Without warning, he grabs your hair, wrenching your head back to meet his furious gaze.

Panic courses through you as you struggle to find your voice, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

"There's... there's not much food in the house," you stammer, your words barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

You hadn’t had time to go shopping today.

Corey's grip tightens, his fingers digging into your scalp as he leans in close, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're so useless," he sneers, his words dripping with venom.

"Fat, lazy, good-for-nothing..."

The room spins as Corey's tirade continues, his insults cutting deeper with each passing moment.

Desperate to escape, you try to push him away, but his grip only tightens, trapping you in a nightmare from which there seems to be no escape.

Suddenly, with a violent outburst, Corey grabs the lamp from the bedside table and hurls it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room.

Tears blur your vision as you shrink back against the bed, utterly petrified by the display of his rage.

As Corey advances towards you with a fiery rage burning in his eyes, you scramble to your feet, desperately trying to evade his grasp.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to slip past him, your heart pounding in your chest as you bolt towards the stairs.

But just as you reach the top step, Corey's hand snags your arm, wrenching you around with a brutal force that sends you reeling.

"How dare you run away from me?" he hisses, his breath hot against your face as flecks of spit land on your skin. "You should never turn your back on your boyfriend."

Terror courses through you as you try to reason with him, your voice trembling with fear.

"Corey, please... You're hurting me," you manage to stammer, but your words fall on deaf ears.

Corey's laughter cuts through the air like a knife, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic amusement.

"Hurting you?" he mocks, his voice dripping with disdain.

"This isn't hurting you, sweetheart. This is."

And with a sudden shove, he sends you tumbling down the stairs, your body crashing against the unforgiving steps with a sickening thud.

Agony radiates through every fiber of your being as you lie at the bottom of the staircase, your ribs screaming in protest with each labored breath.

Tears blur your vision as you curl into a ball, the weight of Corey's betrayal crushing down upon you like a suffocating weight.

With a gasp, you jolt awake from the nightmare, your heart pounding in your chest as if trying to escape the confines of your ribcage.

The events that caused you to head to the hospital in the first place continuously running through your head leading to sleepless night after sleepless night.

Beads of sweat cling to your forehead, your hair damp and tangled against your skin, as the remnants of the horrifying dream linger in your mind like a haunting specter.

As you turn to your left, the empty space beside you serves as a stark reminder of Corey's absence. The sinking realization settles in that he's likely out drinking again, his drunken antics and volatile behavior a constant source of fear and uncertainty in your life.

Gazing out of the window, you're met with the sight of a full moon casting an eerie glow over the world below. Its ethereal light illuminates the darkness, casting long shadows that seem to dance with malevolent intent.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you ponder the endless cycle of fear and despair that has become your reality.

How much longer will you have to endure this nightmare?

tag list: @fictionalmensblog @hermionelove @angel32112233 @moneybaby07 @hannah9921 @definegirlfriendsx

[orshii]

Will I Ever See You Again? CHAPTER 1: Last To Fall

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x reader

Warning: cursing, violence, blood

Word count: 4,6 k

Summary: You were left alone with your brother, Yunho, and his best friend Hongjoong, after your parents' death. Yunho had someone to grieve with, but you? You had no one as your brother and his best friend pushed you away, singing becoming your only savior. There was one rule that Yunho made inside his friend group: “Don’t touch my sister”. And for this reason, Hongjoong had always kept his distance. But one night, you find yourself in danger. And from then on, Hongjoong does not leave your side. He is suddenly overprotective of you, and your relationship shifts and becomes fraught with tension and unspoken feelings, with secrets lurking beneath the surface and a painful past haunting you. Will you find out the secrets your brother and best friend have been keeping away from you? Will you be able to finally free yourself from your cruel past?

Will you fall in love amidst the chaos around you?

A/N: Finallyy...the adventure starts everyone!! Yayy, I really hope you are going to like this whole rollercoaster, I really tried with this one. Please look forward to this story, as it has a really special place in my heart. Before reading, or while reading, please listen to WTF by Sasha Sloan, as it is included in the story. Okaay, enjoy!! hehet.

Taglist: @bvidzsoo @vixensss @deltamoon666 @scarfac3 <3 (taglist is still open if you are interested)

I stepped onto the stage, darkness tightly hugging around me as I became one with it. I stood by the microphone, waiting for my bandmates to settle down. They nodded once they were ready and the lights suddenly blinded me as everyone could see us now. I felt vulnerable for a second, but when Yeosang, my best friend, started playing the acoustic guitar as he gave me a reassuring look, I finally got the courage to start singing.

♪ Sometimes I got a hard time seeing the point to existing ♪

My vocals resounded around the enclosed space as Yeosang accompanied me with his guitar, representative of our real-life connection. He has always followed after me, guiding me, holding my hand if I needed a little extra support. 

♪ Sometimes I got a hard time

Seeing the good in the chaos ♪

And then Jongho joined in with the drums that sounded like thunder, followed by San, who was our bass guitarist. I looked over to him as I sang, our gazes connecting as he smiled at me, telling me everything was alright with his soft eyes. These boys gave me the strength I needed to step out in front of the world and sing about my feelings.

♪ Am I the only one losing my mind? 

What the fuck am I doing here? ♪

It was weird singing about my feelings right in front of so many strangers, who came to the pub either to get laid or just have some fun. The thing is, that I feel more comfortable singing in front of people who I don't know, because I know they won't judge me. They are only here to enjoy themselves, listen to my singing, which is more like background music to them after a certain amount of alcohol has made it inside their systems, however, sometimes they would sympathize with the lyrics, I could easily see it in their eyes.

♪ Stuck in a one-man circus

Trying to find some purpose

But it’s unclear  ♪

Singing, was the only thing that kept me going after all the bad things that have happened in my life. I could escape my feelings like this, letting them out into the world. This was the only time when I allowed people to see the real me, my real feelings, because the second the music was over and people cheered, my mask was back on and my emotionless self was back again, showing no interest in anything at all. I was back to the state of not feeling, of being a robot who had to just simply survive. Days mushed into one, monotone and repetitive, there was no fun in being alive anymore. But still, something kept me going, something kept me alive, and I wasn't allowed to leave, yet. 

I had nobody except my brother, Yunho, whom I love the most, and my only purpose in life is to make his easier, so he doesn't have to suffer like me. We went through tough times together, and we had to stick to each other in order to survive. I have always tried my best, and I still do everything I can to support him. 

Speaking of him, I have to be at his boxing match in ten minutes. I quickly hurried backstage, where my bandmates were and hugged them tightly. I was happy to see them, and grateful that they were doing this with me. We have created our band just for fun, no serious intentions were put into it, however, we got an opportunity to perform some nights at a pub called, MIST. We asked the owner a few times to let us play, and in the end he allowed it. I guess it was an escape for all of us. An escape from a cruel world in which we couldn’t truly be ourselves. 

I ran towards my car with Yeosang trying to keep up so that we wouldn't be late to the match. 

"Are you okay?" Yeosang asked me as I drove off fast once we were seated inside the car. I really didn't want to be late.

"Yeah, of course." I briefly glanced at him. He saw how tired I was, so he was worried. I haven't slept well at least in the past three years, so my face kinda always looked like. Some people may think I was a living zombie, so I get it.

"You sang beautifully tonight." He smiled at me proudly.

I felt the urge to smile back at him, "Thank you, for being there for me too." I didn’t look at him, but I knew he was still smiling.

"I had no choice, I was the one playing the guitar." Yeosang teased with a chuckle.

"Mhm, so I am forcing you to play now?" I gave him a quick side glance.

"No, no." He put his hand on mine as it was on the gearstick, "I'm glad I can play alongside you, it's an honor, Milady." He grabbed my hand and gently pecked my knuckles. 

I chuckled as after running a few traffic lights and avoiding traffic as best as I could, we finally arrived to the Boxing Club. A few people were still outside, smoking a cigarette or waiting for someone, so this meant that the match hadn't started yet. We went inside the building and there were already a lot of people sitting in the grandstands. The air was a bit cold in the big hall. Some people stood around the boxing ring while behind them there were seats available, our reserved ones being among them. We went over to find them as I could feel excitement overcoming my whole body. The atmosphere was full with anticipation as everyone was here to see some fist fighting between bulky and angry men. I had no idea what the rules of these boxing matches were, but when my brother was in there, I felt like if anyone tried to harm him, I was going to get inside that ring and punch the motherfucker until he’s passed out. But to my luck, Yunho was one of the best boxers here. He was tall and well-built, and he didn't have enemies in this little town that would come to challenge him. Everyone feared him.

And he rarely lost too. One of the few occasions when he did lose, was against his best friend, Kim Hongjoong. He was shorter than Yunho, but he was strong still, and since he was smaller, he had the advantage of being quicker as well, so, he outplayed Yunho. Even though Hongjoong lost one of his teeth that one time, he was still smiling proudly over his win. I had a feeling that Yunho maybe let him win.

Yunho and Hongjoong have been best friends since forever. Hongjoong was kind of part of our family at this point as he had lost his own family in a car accident, and my father was there for him, together with Yunho, trying to breathe life into Hongjoong again. After a while, my dad started taking care of Hongjoong as if he were his own son, and one day I woke up to him suddenly living with us. Yunho and Hongjoong were like brothers and I was so envious of their relationship, because Yunho never told me anything, he never told me what he was feeling, he pushed me away, only letting Hongjoong in. I hated it, I hated that I was left alone, alone with my thoughts, with my feelings, after our father died. It was tough for everyone; the three of us were left without a parental figure for good now. Everything just seemed so suspicious to me, I didn’t know anything about how my father died, about what happened to him. Yunho and I were alone now, but he had another sibling to grieve with and I had to stay strong, alone. It was the three of us, yet they pushed me away like I was some stray cat, unworthy of their time and attention anymore.

I looked over at Yeosang, and I smiled as he sat next to me, looking around with big puppy eyes, taking in the atmosphere. Suddenly, I felt the urge to hug him. He was by my side from the second we met last year, when we bumped into each other as both of us were trying to find our next class, realizing in the process that we both were music majors. From then on, we did everything together. He kind of brought me back to life, he was a real sunshine in my life as his blonde hair lightened his beautiful face with a glow always to it, his birthmark under his left eye making him look even more ethereal. I have always admired him, and felt lucky that I had bumped into him. So, I hugged him, hiding my face in his neck, his scent enveloping me, offering me peace. He smelled like orchids, that's why my favorite flowers were orchids. 

He chuckled, "Okay, you’re acting strange, Y/N. Are you sick?" He pressed his palm against my forehead, checking if I had a fever. 

I smiled, "No, I’m not. I just wanted to hug my best friend, is that such a bad thing now?" I moved closer to him, not wanting to let go just yet.

"You never hug me, sorry, but it is strange." He looked down at me, smiling.

"I know…that's why I'm doing it now, because I'm glad you’re here, with me." It was rare that I expressed how I felt, I wasn’t the type to vocalize my thoughts so easily. 

"Yeah, me too." He hugged me tight and warmly. I felt safe in his arms, never wanting to let go of him.

After we killed the time by goofing around, finally the match started and we were waiting for my brother to appear in the ring, so that we could cheer for him. Kim Hongjoong was the first to compete against a big guy, so buffed up that I was kind of worried he would break Hongjoong into pieces. Both participants prepared for the fight, and when it started, Hongjoong looked like a little bunny next to the big man. However, Hongjoong never failed to surprise me with his strength as he attacked his big opponent with two perfectly timed strikes. The guy had no choice at all, Hongjoong didn’t even give him time to try and attack him. The man just blinked, and then he was on the floor. The crowd cheered for Hongjoong as he fist bumped the air as he celebrated his quick win with the crowd. 

After Hongjoong, more men fought inside the ring and it was becoming boring. They were playing the cat and mouse game, but finally one of them punched the other one and he was knocked out so hard that the ambulance had to be called. Nothing too unusual. 

Finally, Yunho appeared inside the ring with a confident smile, his opponent being Song Mingi, his other best friend. They had a very interesting dynamic, always glued together, they acted like I imagine soulmates would. I have always adored their friendship; it was unbreakable and full of respect. I really wouldn’t be surprised if one day they announced they were in love, really, I wasn’t blind, I could see the tension between them. I could see the way Yunho looked at Mingi, his eyes having a particular glint in them as if Mingi was his whole world, Yunho always only saw him. Yunho not only had Hongjoong by his side, but Song Mingi as well.

It was shitty when you had to compete against your best friend, but, may the better man win. They were standing in front of each other, both tall, but their bodies shaped differently. Mingi was always quick to dodge the strikes, but Yunho was merciless, and he never stopped. The crowd went silent as the thick tension between them made everyone shut up and follow their match on the edge of their seats. I knew Yunho well, and I was sure he did not care about the fact that he was going to kick his best friend’s ass in no time, because he only wanted to win. He was addicted to the rush he felt when winning. May you be lucky enough to never encounter Yunho after a match he lost, his rage scary and dangerous. I saw how Yunho and Mingi murmured to each other, something only they could. Mingi seemed a little off today, like he wanted to be anywhere, but here. Yunho, on the other hand, continued smiling confidently and quite smugly, not even noticing the expression on Mingi’s face, which seemed to be screaming that he didn’t want to fight against his best friend. 

Yunho was the first to attempt strike against Mingi, and he hit him straight in his ribs. After a few more tricks and moves, all we could see was Mingi trying to hit Yunho, but my brother dodged all of his poor attempts. Mingi seemed to have loosened up a bit as a smile appeared on his face. Suddenly, they smiled at each other, it seemed like a friendly match between the two, until it wasn’t anymore, until Yunho suddenly managed to strike some counter kicks and hits at Mingi and he was on the floor, his mouth bleeding. Mingi looked mad, disappointment showing on his face. But he suddenly got up and hit Yunho straight in the face. Yunho was taken aback, so he couldn’t fight back for a moment, and Mingi managed to hit him once or twice. But Yunho was the type to never give up, even if he had only one unbroken bone. The crowd around us suddenly roared with such loudness I wanted to cover my ears, especially when they cheered because my brother got hit, I didn’t like that. But Yunho suddenly got the strength to hit back, and that was Mingi’s last chance. He was on the floor after getting showed against the iron bars aggressively and roughly, now barely able to move from the pain. I felt sorry for Mingi. Yunho was so blinded by the rush of adrenaline he got, that he didn’t even realize that his best friend was on the ground, bleeding, because of him. This side of Yunho had always scared me, I didn’t recognize him when he was like this. And I was sure Mingi was fighting his inner demons as well, trying to understand Yunho somehow. In the end, the referee raised Yunho’s arm into the air, announcing he had won against his best friend, who had stormed off angrily towards the changing room. 

A few more matches passed, and then in the next one Hongjoong lost against a guy who seemed to know every calculated move of his. The guy easily dodged Hongjoong’s attempts, and quickly gave a few strikes back, straight into Hongjoong’s face and ribs. Hongjoong was breathing quickly, and my heart started to race. I was a bit worried for him as the guy tried to hit him again, but he dodged it, and punched the guy’s solar plexus. The guy fell to the ground, but it seemed he was a tough guy, and he got angry as I watched Hongjoong tell him something. That was when the guy moved forward quickly and stroke Hongjoong in the ribs with force, immediately making Hongjoong pass out. The crowd stood up at once, myself included, as Yeosang followed with a gasp, all of us shocked as we couldn’t believe the fucker knocked Hongjoong out.. The referee announced the guy as the winner, and finally, Hongjoong slowly opened his eyes, barely moving as someone helped him out of the ring. So, Hongjoong was out of the competition. After that, Yunho had a few more fights, Mingi as well, but in the end, Yunho was announced as the number one winner of the night. 

When the matches were finally over and the crowd started to slowly disperse, I waited for Yunho so I could congratulate him. Yeosang had already left as he needed to go home for some unknown reason to me. I was near the ring, but nobody was in the room as I read briefly over the history of boxing displayed on the walls. There were a pair of old boxing gloves on a shelf and I took it into my hands, wanting a closer look.

"Wanna learn?" A sudden voice from behind made me jump a little.

I turned around and saw Hongjoong coming my way, freshly showered, wearing a black tank top that tightened around his upper body perfectly, paired with black sweatpants. He had some fresh bleeding cuts on his eyebrows and lips, his two-colored, black and blonde hair was still wet, falling into his eyes. The colors of his hair kind of represented his personality. I knew he had a bright side that he only allowed Yunho to see, and whom he felt close with. And he had a dark side, which I have known from the beginning as he was always unnecessarily protective and mean with everyone. He had a really bad reputation, and he was a bad influence on Yunho. That’s why I hated him as he made Yunho become part of some dangerous gang, the two doing some illegal shit together. These things never ended well…

"Not really." I shrugged, and placed the old gloves back in their spot. 

"Come, I'll teach you some tricks. It may come in handy, and who knows, you may have to knock out some bastards." He said, motioning with his hands to follow him as he jumped up into the ring.

"When is Yunho coming?" I asked, looking up at him.

"In a few minutes. He is currently yelling at Mingi, so until they finally figure their shit out, come." He reached his hand out towards me, so that he could pull me up beside himself.

I sighed, and with a frown grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull me up. I suddenly felt worried about Yunho, I didn’t want him to fuck up whatever had been lately happening between him and Mingi. On the other hand, I didn't understand why Hongjoong was suddenly acting like this. We were never really on good terms, but we also weren't on bad terms. It was always as if the other wasn’t there, like we grazed past the other. Most of times, it was Hongjoong doing this, so, after a while, I started doing the same. And yes, I started hating him as well, because I felt jealous of him stealing my brother away from me.

I put the gloves on Hongjoong handed me. It was a weird feeling, but if I’m being honest, I would gladly punch him in the face with these gloves on or off. Preferably off, would feel more real.

"Can I punch you?" I blurted out without thinking much. 

"No? Why would you?” He looked at me with a frown, “Wasn't it enough when that other guy just knocked me out like I was nothing but a feather?"

"No, it wasn't. I want to be the one to knock you out." I tried to scare him as I hit the air in front of his face.

"Okay, okay, chill out, sugar." He grabbed my wrists, "You'll have another chance to take me out, but it’s not now." He said with a smirk, and I scoffed at the realization of how he meant it. Hell, no. I wanted to punch that smirk off of his face.

He started explaining how to hit someone in the solar plexus so that you knock them out immediately. I could practice as he held his palms up. I held my right hand in front of my face, because like he said, one hand must be there to protect your face. With my other hand, I punched his palm. Left-right, then right-right, and so on. After a few strikes he said that I could practice some more on his abs as he pulled his tank top up. I gulped seeing his toned abs, bruised with black and blue marks on his ribs.

“God, you are so bruised. I’m not merciless enough to hit you in this state, Hong.” I said, my eyes still on the cruel bruises. 

“Don’t worry, sugar. You only need to hit my lower stomach now. Try and find my solar plexus, but you can’t hit me strong enough to knock me out.” He smiled confidently and took his lifted-up top between his teeth, his hands held up behind his head, waiting for me to strike. 

Oh, so I couldn’t hit him strong enough? At first, I softly punched his stomach as he was watching me with eyes that made me feel like I was his prey and he’d pounce on me any minute now.

“C’mon, sugar. You can do better.” He said, taking the top out of his mouth just so he could talk to me.

“Fuck you.” I snapped, getting angrier. Suddenly, I struck him with all the strength I could muster up, aiming at his solar plexus only. It felt good. I started cackling loudly when I successfully hit him hard enough that he hunched over, trying to catch his stolen breath.

"Okay, okay, I think you've got this now." He raised his hands in the air in surrender, "But next time, you have to get it right away. It hurts, but it has to be the perfect timing if you want to knock the other one out." 

He stepped closer, reaching his hands out, one settling on my lower back and the other on my lower stomach, "You have to hit right here, without missing." He said it in a low voice, whispering it into my ear, his warm breathing sent shivers down my body as it tickled my skin.

“Your strikes are good, but if I wasn’t an unmoving target, I could’ve knocked you out in seconds, your left-hand needs to be here.” He raised my left hand slowly to hold it in front my face, “You need to protect that pretty face of yours.” His face was emotionless, I couldn’t read his features.

“You couldn't protect your dumb face, from that guy who knocked you out.” I said, getting angrier.

He chuckled, “Okay, sugar, fair enough.” He stepped even closer, watching me with an unnerving hunger in his eyes.

“One last thing.” Slowly, he let his hands travel down to my inner thighs, close to my knees, and made me stand in a wider stance, “You need to stand balanced so that you can put all your power into your fists.”  

Fuck this, I didn’t sign up for this. He really just touched me without asking for permission first, acting like he could do anything to me without it there being repercussions to his actions.

“Can you like, not touch me every time you try to explain something?” I snapped with a glare as I got more furious because of his actions.

Hongjoong looked at me with a surprised look on his face. I guess he didn’t even realize he made me feel uncomfortable. I was seconds away from recoiling and hitting him hard, showing him just how easily I could knock him out if I really wanted to, but suddenly Yunho was shouting at us.

"Hands off my sister, Joong!" Yunho approached the ring just as Hongjoong quickly jumped back, putting a great distance between our bodies.

"I just wanted to teach her some techniques she can use in the future." He raised his hands again in the air, genuineness showing on his face as he slowly walked near Yunho. Now he was acting like he was the hero and I was some damsel in distress needing his help, how funny.

"Let's hope she won’t have to use them, then." Yunho looked at Hongjoong with deadly eyes. This always happened when I was the subject of their conversation, they acted like I wasn’t even there, they talked about me like I was an object. 

There was a stupid rule that Yunho had come up with, “My sister is off limits, if you try to touch her, I'll just simply kill you.” And this rule did work because no one really dared to even as much as look at me. I hated it because I never had the chance to have fun. Yunho was always there in the shadows, letting others know that, “If you touch her—well you know what happens.” 

I have always felt like I was a princess held in a big tower, wanting to desperately escape...

"Let's drink something at MIST." Yunho said, sounding a bit angry and tired. He reached his hands out towards me, helping me off the platform.

"I thought you were coming home, that's why I waited for you." I jumped off the ring, accepting my brother’s help. It was alarming how cold I felt without Hongjoong by my side.

"I want to celebrate, come drink with us." Yunho looked at me through his dark eyelashes, his black hair still wet from the shower. 

"Nah, I'm tired, I'll just go home." I said, rubbing my face as I fought against a yawn.

"Do you need a lift? Hong can take you home, I came by bike." He pointed at Hongjoong, who finally jumped off from the ring, ready to take me home.

"I came by my car, so I don't need a lift.” I said, looking at Hongjoong with a sharp glare, “Alright then, see you at home, don't get shitfaced." I turned around and walked towards the exit.

"Drive safely, and send me a message when you have arrived!" Yunho shouted after me.

I just lifted my thumb up in as a silent way of telling him okay, and left the building. The weather was a bit chilly this evening as I was headed towards my car, trying to find my keys in my backpack full of notebooks and torn out pages. As I was walking towards my car under the moonlight, my mind was whirling around with thoughts accompanied by an unfamiliar melody, that I have noticed I started making up lately very randomly. The words that came to me had the potential to be even some lyrics, but it wasn’t anything I have heard before. It was my own song.

≫ The feeling of being drowned in your thoughts,

Trying to find someone who’ll jump to save you. ≪

I have never wrote music before, I thought I wasn’t talented enough for that, but this melody that lately had been playing in my head made me want to write these random lyrics down, so that maybe I could create something special too one day..

I finally found the keys to my car, and I sat inside my black Honda Civic, igniting the engine to life. I suddenly felt hungry, so I decided to stop at a restaurant, called Granny's, on my way home to order some takeout. It was a fifteen-minute drive from where the boxing matches were held, and after I arrived, I went inside the restaurant and ordered some chicken wings with french fries. I patiently waited around a bit for my order to be finished, then I paid and said my goodbyes.

I was currently headed to my car, grabbing the keys from my pocket, food in my other hand, when suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. I had no time to think as I suddenly found myself on the dirty ground. I hadn't even reached my car, it was blocked by two tall figures dressed in all black, and as I looked behind myself, I saw two other men staring at me like they were going to kill me right then and there.

A/N: Ty for reading, just one thing, if that Yungi fight scene caught your eyes (wink), my best friend @bvidzsoo, wrote a behind story for them on AO3, I recommend it is very good, I died.

「Series masterlist」 <Next part>

[lilylovestowrite]

Could I request Neuvillette getting a big surprise from his partner and the Melusines? The surprise? They wrote a song about him and decided to sing it to him.

Neuvillette gets so touched it almost rains

HYDRO DRAGON, HYDRO DRAGON, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ୨♡୧

PAIRING ୨♡୧ Neuvillette x Gn! Reader

WARNINGS ୨♡୧ Slight angst

SYNOPSIS ୨♡୧ You give Neuvillette a little surprise

WORD COUNT ୨♡୧ 700

A/N ୨♡୧ Thank you for the request! I CAN’T STOP WRITING ANGST I CAN’T HELP IT -

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Sigewinne plops herself on a chair, spreading refreshment drinks all around the table of yours and Neuvillette’s shared garden. Under the lovely gazebo, many of the melusines gather, pretty eyes all wide with excitement. As a musician, you pride yourself on leading the top opera performances in Fontaine, and as easily as you could ask some of the best singers to perform for your husband, you decide to take the melusines who volunteered to perform under your wing and teach them to perform some of Neuvillette’s favourite songs for his birthday. 

To be honest, you’re not sure why anyone hasn’t thought of hiring them to sing before. As water creatures, their voices range around a high-soprano key, the cadence of their voices lovely and controlled like the rolling tides of the summer seas. Sigewinne herself has such an adorable singing voice, you have to stop fawning over her as if she were an infant, and focus on the rest of the choir. Around fifteen melusines eagerly agreed to volunteer, and they organise themselves in rows, dressed in lovely organza silks with light blue flowers clasped in their tiny hands. 

“I can’t believe I’ve heard this non-stop in Monsieur Neuvillette’s office, and now I’m here singing it.” One of them shakes her head, and the lovely soprano melusine lightly whacks her upside the head. 

“You volunteered, dummy.” 

“I know, but I can’t bear hearing it again. I’m investing in earplugs.” She snaps, and you and a few other melusines giggle in reply. 

“Alright, ladies! Let’s go over the plan again: Neuvillette is arriving any moment now, and we’ll start after I tap the baton on the music stand. Lady Furina, thank you for playing the piano.” You nod at her in acknowledgement. 

“Enough with the theatrics, darling. You’ve worked with me for years. I would do it for Neuvillette anytime.” She waves her gloved hand dismissively, short bobbed hair dancing as she shakes her head dramatically. “Now hush, he’ll be here at any second.” 

Sure enough, the clack of heels is heard, the sound of keys jingling rings out and everyone quickly stands up straighter. One of the melusines nearly whacks her elbow into the table next to her and covers her mouth to block her pained yelp. The melusine next to her covers her mouth too, to conceal her laughter. The silence permeates for about all of thirty seconds, in which Neuvillette finally looks outside the window of the dining room to see the gazebo decorated in blue ribbon, fifteen melusines, Lady Furina, and the love of his life standing there in the garden. He smiles softly, shedding his coat and making his way to the garden. Just as he opens the gate, you tap your baton three times, and the melusines’ melody begins to soar in tandem with Furina’s lovely piano accompaniment. 

Neuvillette stands, stunned. In all of his years, he has isolated himself from the society of Fontaine to hide his true identity, to mourn the loss of those who have departed before him and those to come, the weight of their sins shattering his back from punishment he wasn't sure were entirely fair. But now, with the death of Focalors, it’s been the first time since he’s let loose and allowed himself to really indulge in society’s little rituals. Like birthdays, although unfamiliar with them, he finds it so… bizarre. The melusine’s singing is beautiful, and though he can’t see them properly because of a weird haze that possesses his purple eyes. It’s so peculiar, celebrating a birth he can’t quite remember. His existence, quiet yet loud and theatrical in the Court of Law, is it really so important to you that you wish to celebrate it with so many other people?

For some strange reason, a few drops of rain wet the stepping stone in front of him. It isn’t until the song ends with a crescendo that Furina shrieks and tries to pull fabric over her piano that Neuvillette takes notice of the tears burning the corner of his eyes. You walk up to him and embrace him, his hand rakes through your hair. You wipe away a stray tear from his cheek, flushed and unaged from years of loneliness, but the childlike glimmer in his eyes he had thought would never return ignites in his sea of lavender once more. 

“Don’t cry, Neuvi. Happy birthday.”

[soobnny]

summer strike — hwang hyunjin.

trope. strangers to lovers. found family. comfort fic. heavily inspired by the kdrama

synopsis. having had enough of your life in the big city, you head to a small town where you meet a local librarian who feels a lot like love

word count. 23k words

warnings. drinking alcohol, curse words, mentions of loneliness

note. it’s out it’s out! this kdrama might be my favorite and means a lot to me so i just had to write something inspired by it. it’s basically the written form but condensed with a few changes so credits to the kdrama. i’d rly appreciate any feedback :)

one.

It happened without warning.

As you stand behind the glass doors of the building you work at, rain splits before your eyes. Drip by drip, and then a downpour. You suppose you should’ve checked the Weathers app before deciding to work overtime tonight.

You ponder over waiting it out, but there is no place to go but the train station before it takes its last trip. It’s urgent to get back to your empty apartment where it isn’t rainy and it isn’t windy and the world isn’t ending. So, you run towards the only direction you know in this city, even as rain pours over the streets.

Your soles feel heavy by the time you arrive, but you don’t allow yourself the moment to rest as you swerve through the crowds of people to get to the train doors before it closes. You wish to see a time when silence ghosts the usually busy station, but you don’t have the time. You never do. Always rushing. Always tired.

The watch on your wrist reads 8:21, and it’ll only be a few minutes before a wave of office workers litter the narrow space of the train. When they finally do, the first thing you discern is their terrible body odor—dried up sweat with a tinge of alcohol. It no longer surprises you, so used to the fuckery that is your life.

Instead, you plug in your earphones to drown out their voices, listening to the kind of music that drags you back to a childhood memory. It sounds like popsicles, like wind blowing through your hair as you’re being pushed from the swing, like running on concrete barefooted, like the laughter of someone you love.

Now, you live in a city of strangers.

On the next stop, an old woman walks in. No one makes a move to give up their seat—too tired, too selfish, looking anywhere but the old woman. You think of how small humanity really is as you get up and gesture for her to take your seat instead. She has gone through too many years of her life to stand stuck between the terrible stench of office workers.

She holds a sweet smile as she thanks you. You don’t remember the last time someone smiled at you like that. Silver linings.

When you finally make it home, it’s nearly 9pm. This is what working 9-6 is like in the city. You live off your co-workers taking advantage of your work ethic, your boss’s bad breath yelling into your ear, and never coming home on time.

This has happened yesterday. It will happen again tomorrow.

It’s always the same. The same routine, over and over without progress. You feel like you’ve messed up somewhere. You used to have ambitions, but now you’re just a fragment of the person you used to be. The city was supposed to lead somewhere. It was supposed to be promising. But, the same tired eyes walk down the same path everyday in a dead end.

You don’t know where you went wrong.

You lay in your bed, still soaking wet, with a painful cry waiting to erupt from your throat. You hate that there’s no longer time to create happiness. It’s too late, and minutes from now, you will be asleep.

You stare at the ceiling, as you do every night before you fall asleep, and the only sounds that accompany you are the loud honks of the cars outside and your stomach grumbling. No one calls you to dinner. No one holds you to keep you warm.

It’s so lonely here.

The feeling of a hug is something you don’t see yourself remembering so you press your back further against your bed to mimic the feeling of an embrace. It doesn’t feel right, but it’s the closest thing you can get after the mistake you made of thinking you were made for the city.

Though, as you keep staring at the ceiling, you start to feel sick. You don’t think you can handle this rotting anymore. You refuse to believe this fate is by design, not when you feel like this. With tears you didn’t even notice dried up on your cheeks, you make a decision. There is nothing else you can do here, and this will be your last night in the city. So, you do something you have not done in years, you pull your backpack that’s been collecting dust and throw in as much clothes as you can.

You feel you’ve been cruel to yourself for allowing this to happen for years. The next day, you don’t wake up at the usual time. You spend the night in, and you quit your job once they call. They don’t deserve you there.

As for your belongings, you decided to only keep what could fit in your backpack. Cleaning up the house, you realized that you bought a lot of things; mugs you bought on a whim just because they were pretty, dishes that you only used once to host a house welcoming party, clothes you forgot even existed. The selection process was much more difficult than any job interview. Useless items got sold as soon as you posted them online.

You let go of your apartment and jump on the first train out, leaving behind the bustles and the buildings of the city. Seoul is too much for an unemployed person like you.

The sound of the train pollutes your ears as you step in, the voice of the intercom telling passengers to let people out first before walking into the train. And as the train moves away, you watch the city grow smaller and smaller. You don’t bother looking back.

The little town you're heading to is unfamiliar, but the path before is even more so.

There’s a heartbeat.

two.

Nobody ever visits.

In the city, you learned early on that it was a dog eat dog world. Your kindness can only go so far until it becomes the perfect tool to take advantage of you. They liked to call it survival of the fittest, the Darwinian evolutionary theory. It’s something that’s taught early in high school, often forgotten the year after, yet it’s a theory you continue to use long after everyone else has moved on to other things in life. You’d always found it interesting how it flawlessly captured Seoul’s mechanism of natural selection—the one most adaptable to change is the one that survives.

Nobody knocks on your door to greet you there. Nobody wishes you well. For as long as you can remember, you’d always had to fight, always aboard a ship on rough waters that you’d almost forgotten how a quiet shore sounds like.

You suppose this is why there was no warning when a knock sounds on your door. You hadn’t expected anyone at your door.

The morning was spent carving out a new life for yourself in Angok, running away from the sounds of the city and exploring the place you’d soon call home. There aren’t many establishments here, most of them run by families who have been here far longer than you ever have. You take note of the small convenience store just where you live in case you were feeling too lazy to run to the farmer’s market just by the town center. Small things first, afraid to hear the bustle of buildings follow their way to where you are.

By 2 in the afternoon, you had retreated back to the small apartment you’d rented out. Outside, the wind was getting stronger, making the waves collide harshly with the shore. You think you’d have stayed out longer if the gust of wind hadn’t flapped your clothes around violently. Two in the afternoon, with nothing left to do, when the door knocks.

Knock, knock.

Your heart rate speeds up at the sound. Could the city have followed you all the way here?

With heavy feet, you fight against the voice in your head to greet whoever is at your door. By best case, they’d probably mistaken your quaint apartment for someone else’s.

You twist the doorknob carefully, door creaking when it opens and you’re met with the sight of someone with the most peaceful face and the most perfect set of teeth. His eyes are welcoming as he waves at you in greeting, hair messily swept back with a few strands falling on his forehead almost as if they were designed to be.

“Hi!” You squeak out, eyes nervously wandering back and forth between the man and what you could only assume was his parked truck just by the front of your apartment. “I think you have the wrong apartment.”

“Oh! My apologies. Is this not where (Name) lives?” Your heartbeat picks up its pace again, and your hand around the doorknob starts to feel a little clammy for the fear of his intentions.

“It is actually. Um, how do you know my name?” You try to mask the fear in your tone, but the man easily picks up on it. And if it wasn’t for the situation, you think you would’ve laughed when he comically takes long strides to back up a little bit. He looks silly with his widened eyes and parted lips.

“I’m sorry, that must’ve sounded really creepy. I’m Chan! I live just around here, and my mom just rented you this house? The previous owner ran away with all the furniture, so I brought some so it doesn’t feel so empty.”

Chan flashes you a bright smile, angling himself a little so his truck is in full view.

It solicits a sigh of relief out of you, gripping hand on the doorknob dropping as you feel a little safer. You’d been ready to shut the door. Almost defensive. Almost letting his words fall into mumbles.

“I apologize again. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His tone is soft, genuine even as he scratches the back of his head and bows a little. It’s a strange sight the man with the kind smile. Strange that it only occurs to you now how long you’d gone without seeing a smile so soft in a long time. After all your years in the city, you had almost forgotten the sight of genuineness being directed at you.

“It’s alright. I’m just… a little…” The words fall on your mouth. Frankly speaking, you don’t know how to explain your own behavior. Nervous? Afraid? Defensive? You don’t really know. You feel like a stranger in your own body.

Chan is quick to dismiss it when it seems that you don’t have the intention to finish your sentence. There is no pressure to come up with an excuse here. “Come in. The wind must’ve been harsh on you.”

Pulling the door back a little wider, you invite Chan into your empty apartment, and after asking you twice if it was okay, he finally obliges. As he makes his way inside, he takes the furniture he had brought with him—back and forth, and back and forth from the truck until everything was inside.

He doesn’t even let you lift a finger.

“Sit anywhere.” You make your way to your kitchen to grab him a glass of water, emptying the bottle you had just bought down to its last few drops. You try to take as long as you can in the kitchen in nerve of the small talk that was bound to happen when meeting strangers. Though, your walls start to look at you reproachfully, and you realize you’d been gone far too long to be called disrespectful.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You hand him the glass, sitting adjacent to him. He simply shakes his head, thanking you instead as he takes the glass from you with both his hands, careful not to touch you in case it makes you uncomfortable.

“I hope this is enough.” Chan motions over towards the pieces of furniture he had brought with him—a couch, a few chairs, and a table for now. “I have some more, but it didn’t really fit in my truck.”

You allow yourself to smile at him, though your eyes fail to meet his for more than five seconds. You don’t know what to say, and something akin to an itch starts to eat at your brain the way a caterpillar does with leaves, one bite then another, pressuring you to say something to satiate the silence.

Chan saves your brain from being chewed away.

“I hope you don’t have a hard time settling in.” He finishes the water you’d offered him before he continues, “I live just 2 apartments away if you need anything. I’ll see you around?”

You nod your head, following him out of the door, and you can only hope you hadn’t scared him away already. You manage to meet his eyes one last time as you move to shut the door, polite smile on your face as he turns back one last time.

“Ah, before I forget… I noticed you had a lot of books with you. There’s a library just a few blocks away in case you were interested.”

“Oh. Thank you. I’ll be sure to check it out.” With one last bow, you gingerly close the door behind you as he finally drives off.

Chan. He feels comfortable despite only knowing him for a few minutes, almost like a caring older brother you never had. You hope to know him more.

As you turn back around, you look at your apartment a little more closely this time, inspecting how the pieces of furniture look, decorating what once was an empty space. It looks more like a home now. You should’ve thanked the man more, you fear you didn’t say it enough.

You brush the thought off and spend the rest of the day cleaning.

three.

It takes you almost a week to go to the library Chan had suggested.

You had promised yourself to finish the book you brought with you first, before committing to new stories and new horizons. Though, it proved difficult as you have always been the type to take more than you can bargain for—purchasing books after books only to leave them behind on a dusty shelf.

But, new places call for new habits, and you vowed to leave that inclination behind.

When you step outside, a wispy curtain of clouds cover the skies. It’s a lovely weather to be outside in, with the summer breeze floating about. Not too cold. Not too sticky.

The air in the city has always been tangled with some form of pollution. Dirty and suffocating. It’s nice to have a change in pace. Being kind to nature, you find, has you reaping the benefits of basking in its beauty. They don’t litter her land with buildings here.

On the way to the public library, you pass by the market where a multitude of people line up, selling more than you can name—fruits and vegetables, homegrown plants, fish, textiles of clothing, brooms, almost everything.

The old and young gather alike, children running around to help their parents, office workers taking a break from their job to buy street food from the vendors. It’s colorful and vibrant, almost fiesta-like that only the people of Angok can radiate.

“(Name)?” A familiar voice has you ripping your eyes from an array of freshly baked cookies, turning towards the origin of the sound to find Chan waving at you.

“Chan, hi!” You reply shyly, yet a little less reserved than when you had first met him.

He looks the way he did a few days ago when he showed up on your door, though more sweaty as he puts down the final box of fruits they had loaded up on his truck. He’s dressed in a loose tank top, you assume to be more efficient in his job, and the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead are more visible the closer he gets to where you’re standing.

Chan definitely stands out with his height, and the way he smiles so easily.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, hands wiping at the side of the shorts he’s wearing.

“I’m actually going to the library… the one you talked about. Though, I’m not quite sure I’m headed the right way?” You try to mask your embarrassment with a short laugh, and his eyes brighten at the way you had taken his suggestion.

His stature lights up in the same manner, clasping both his hands together and replying, “Ah, if you can wait a minute, I can walk you there. I have to deliver a box of oranges there, anyway.”

“Really? I’d really appreciate that actually. Thank you.” You smile politely, and he gestures for you to follow him back to his truck where a man is waiting for him.

The stranger is carrying way more than he should be, about to jokingly boast about his strength to Chan when he takes an abrupt step. An earthquake rumbles in the way a box falls from his shoulders, hitting the pavement and bursting open—almost in slow motion as apples and oranges roll out.

“Shit!” He exclaims with his whole chest, and he immediately bows in apology at the elders around him who look disapprovingly at his choice of language.

“Ah, Jisung.” Chan mumbles, jogging forward to grab the fallen fruits that are still rolling on the pavement. A few onlookers help, much to the embarrassed boy’s dismay, and you quickly bend down to grab at the ones nearest to you.

“Sorry.” His tone is abashed, loading fruits back in the box and setting it aside. Chan simply pats him on the back in fondness.

“Wait, who’s this?” It’s only now he notices you, standing behind Chan with a few fruits in your arms which you hand to him. “Wait, wait, wait. I know, wait give a second.” He continues.

You can hear a faint chuckle from Chan.

“You’re (Name)! Right? You recently moved here?” The sheepish grin on his face is quickly replaced with a look of interest tangled with excitement, forgetting about his ordeal with the fruits in favor of greeting you.

You wonder if news travels as fast as his expression changes in this little town.

“Woah, easy Ji. You’re gonna scare her.” Jisung takes a step back, suddenly aware of how much personal space he’s taking away from you.

“I’m Jisung, Chan’s super handsome and cool friend.” His enthusiasm makes up for his clumsiness, waving at you before suddenly grabbing a plastic container from a big blue cellophane sitting by the side of the box he had dropped. “Here, my mom’s taking up an interest in baking lately. She’s not very good, but please have it as a welcoming gift from me.”

You take the container from his hands, bowing in thanks before meeting his crinkled eyes. Does this boy ever stop smiling?

“Thank you, really. I’d introduce myself but, it seems… you already know my name.”

His unwavering kindness takes you by surprise, just like everyone else in this village. And you’re about to thank him again when he excuses himself to help who you assume to be his mother, who is grumpily carrying a new batch of her baked concoctions.

“So, the library?” And then it’s Chan’s smile again. This time, he has with him a small box of the oranges he told you he’d deliver. You snap out of your far-away look to follow him through the streets.

It’s a short walk, brisker than you thought, and Chan sets the box down on a wooden table just outside of the public library where a young man waits for him—impatience clear on his face.

“Finally. Took you long enough, old man.” The boy opens the box, grabbing an orange from the pile and inspecting it before letting out a satisfied hum when it seems to have met his criterion.

“What do you even need all these oranges for, anyway?” Chan inquires, looking down at the crouched figure of the boy.

“Oranges have vitamin C, which plays a major role in preventing age-related mental decline.” He states matter-of-factly, standing up from his previous position. “Something you can’t relate to, obviously.”

The older boy doesn’t take anything to heart. Instead, you find the same fondness on his face, the one he wore when Jisung had dropped that box earlier.

“Well, I’ll get going then. Will you be okay here?” Chan looks back at you, a huge question mark of an expression decorating his features to ask if it was alright for him to get back now and leave you there.

The younger boy is long gone now, having retreated back into the library with his oranges.

“Oh, yes, yes, of course, sorry. Thank you again.” You smile, and he continues to wave goodbye until he’s no more than a distant figure.

The building is three stories tall, and you have to walk a flight of stairs to get to the library on the second floor. But it’s quiet, and you liked the change of pace from the vibrancy outside to the sudden tranquility inside.

It provides a safe barrier for when you want to be alone with your thoughts, something you never had in the city.

The inside of the library is cold, but the sun reflects through the panels of the windows just right so that it isn��t freezing. It’s as inviting as it is outside, and you’d go as far as saying the friendliness of the library was similar to that of Chan’s warm welcome for you. It isn’t the biggest room, and its run-down nature was particularly striking, but it isn’t something you mind. The cheap furniture and the slight discoloration of wood gave the place a character of its own—like this library has stood for generations and has protected centuries worth of knowledge from the books it holds.

It reminds you of a scene from Avatar the Last Airbender, when they find a lost library with all the knowledge in the world. And the boy with the obsession for oranges can be Wan Shi Tong, the giant owl spirit who’s tasked with collecting information and protecting the Spirit Library.

The door sounds and the floor beneath you creaks as you walk through the room. Though, it isn’t loud enough to catch the attention of the boy you had seen earlier, or as you liked to call him, Wan Shi Tong. He simply calls out an obligatory “welcome”, before going back to the book he’s reading.

The closer you got to the shelves, the more it smelt of books. It’s a nice addition to the ambiance, the scent of pages roaming around and escaping past the ventilation.

You go through the bookshelves, hand moving along their spines. So many books and every single one you wanted to read, even those in foreign languages.

You like this place, you decide. It’s filled with a quiet that allows breathing space, not simply an absence of noise, but a comforting stillness that isn’t easy to replicate. You might come here more often, make it part of a new routine you’re crafting for yourself.

Back in Seoul, you woke up at 6am like clockwork. You shower, eat when you can, go to work, overtime, and go home. Repeat. It’s to the point of exhaustion that the first time you slept in felt like your body was catching up on all the rest it’s been denied, and now it’s being given a space to breathe.

Reaching the end of the shelves, you’re subjected to the sight of broad shoulders and long black hair, standing still as the figure moves to return some books into their slots. They must work here. Should you inquire about how to make a library card? They already seem way friendlier than Wan Shi Tong.

“Excuse me miss?” They give no sign of having heard you. “Miss?”

When he turns around, you’re thinking of all possible ways to move out at this very instant. The boy, whom you had mistaken for a woman, looks at you with slightly widened eyes as if not having expected you to have spoken to him. While that isn’t reason enough to warrant your sudden thoughts of running away, his beauty surely is.

He’s hypnotizing, a beauty that Aphrodite must’ve blessed upon him, the kind that leaves a lasting impression. You’ll meet him once and never forget about him. His hair falls perfectly just above his shoulders, and a mole sits on his face like it was always designed to be there.

You’re embarrassed—if calling him miss wasn’t enough, you’re unsure if the staring did anything to help. Without another glance, you bow and mutter a quick apology before turning to walk away from where he’s stood.

“I’m sorry.” You say, for extra measure even when your back’s already turned from him.

Wan Shi Tong it is.

“Hello.” You speak quietly, and the boy once again looks up from his book. He looks like he’s studying for something.

“How can I help you?” He doesn’t have that false customer service voice, the one that’s overused and far from genuine. Instead, he speaks to you with a sort of passive tone—but it’s not too much that it sounds condescending.

“How do I make a library card here?”

He puts down his pen. “You need an address in Angok for that.”

“Ah, I do have one.” You smile, a little shy, yet relieved that your sudden intrusion of their village hasn’t spread to the entirety of the population yet.

“Did you move here?” He inquires, to which you nod your head in response. “Hm, alright. Hyunjin will help you make one. I’m Seungmin, by the way.”

“(Name).” You introduce yourself back, thanking him for his help as you turn around to only be greeted by Aphrodite’s son, though, you suppose you now know him as Hyunjin.

You can do this.

Hyunjin quickly makes his way behind the desk on the seat next to Seungmin’s so he can hand you a piece of paper you assume you have to fill out for the library card. Though, he still doesn’t say a word. He only points at the parts you need to fill in before going back to another one of his tasks behind the computer screen.

It’s hard not to look at him, and you’d lie if you said you didn’t feel anything when he looked back at you. Though, the feeling is overpowered by the embarrassment of possibly causing him any form of discomfort. You don’t want it to eat away at you until you’re avoiding the library.

You don’t want to avoid the library.

“By the way…” You start suddenly, keeping your voice down. “I’m sorry again for… earlier.”

Silence greets you, as he panics to grab the tiny camera for your library card. “And thank you for helping me right now.”

You seem to only be digging deeper and deeper into your own grave when he still doesn’t respond to you, simply stares as he bows his head slightly to acknowledge you. And it seems that awkwardness spreads like a virus when Seungmin’s head peeks from his book to witness the funny exchange before him. He looks like he’s trying his best to not laugh at whatever the hell is happening.

Then a shutter sounds as you’re filling up your paperwork, unaware he’d already taken your picture. You can only let out a nervous laugh to try and mask the silence that suddenly feels a little suffocating under the prying eyes of Seungmin.

“Here you go.” You hand over the piece of paper, and Hyunjin gives you a printed out library card in return. “Thank you.”

You suppose you can come back the next day to actually start reading. Meeting four new people and embarrassing yourself on top of everything is a little taxing, and you know the weather outside and the pretty cherry blossom trees will help put your mind away enough that you’ll feel better by tomorrow.

The bell rings as you leave, just as it did when you entered and you find yourself smiling at the breeze and the possibility of new friendships.

You told yourself to live a life you won’t regret.

You can do it.

There is excitement when you think of what will happen from now on. Time is all you have now.

As you walk outside, you map out where Chan had led you earlier to make it back to your rented home. If you were gonna come to the library on most days, you might as well have the path memorized until you can guide yourself there blindfolded.

You feel something fluffy just by your legs before you see it, eyes too focused ahead to only now realize you’re being followed by a long-haired Chihuahua. A chuckle escapes your mouth as you bend down to greet the dog. “Hello there, who are you?”

A bark follows, but not a threatening one.

“Come here.” He follows, little paws jumping up to rest on your bent knees with a wagging tail. Almost immediately, you coo at the sight, supplying him with all the head rubs he could possibly ask for.

“Where did you come from, hm? Why are you all alone?” The pitch of your voice is definitely higher, speaking to the dog with a tone similar to one you’d use when talking to a baby. “So cute.”

“I’ll get going now, okay? Go back home too!”

Four padded steps continue to follow you, and the culprit is exactly who you think it is.

“You can’t follow me around. You have to stay here!” Phony scolding, to try and get the dog to stop following you. You don’t want their owner to worry.

“Hey, stop following!” You laugh, starting to jog away from the chihuahua, but he refuses to listen. Instead, he starts running to keep up with you. “Stop it!”

Turns out, it’s hard to convince a dog to stop following you. Especially when he’s made his way into your own home, walking with you for the entirety of your path. The little dog doesn’t have a tag, no owner to contact, and it’s nearing night that you don’t feel safe letting him sleep outside in the inky dark. So, you invite the dog inside who walks around like he owns the place.

You sigh, though never one of indignation, as you sit down on the couch Chan had lended you, and the chihuahua quickly follows to lay himself on your lap. Curled up. Safe.

“What should I call you? Hm? You’re pretty stubborn.” You look down at the dog who’s looking back at you as if having understood anything that you’re saying. “Berry? No?”

It takes you a couple more tries before deciding on Kkami—when the chihuahua’s tail starts wagging aggressively and he attempts to lick your face at the mention.

“Okay, Kkami then. You like that? Hm?”

Your night routine doesn’t change much, there’s just an addition of a curled up Kkami sleeping beside you on your bed. But, you find that you don’t mind it one bit. It’s less lonely like this, and it’s nice to have some company.

four.

You return to the library’s stillness the next day after finishing up some chores—the laundry, the cleaning, everything. Washing your clothes was something unfamiliar to you, as you’d always just sent them to the laundry services near the place you stayed at. There was never time to do them yourself.

It’s a totally new experience when all you have is time now. You keep burning the food you make, but eat it the same. And hanging up your wet clothes outside took forever, but you manage. You just have to remind yourself there’s a book waiting for you in the public library.

The walk to the library is easier now, but the commotion you’d caused yesterday still echoes in your head. It engraves itself even as you make it to the door, hand hovering over the handle. But, there’s no point in delaying. You’ll be here most days so it’s best not to avoid anyone. So, without another thought, you open the door and step into the quiet of the library.

The bell rings as it always does.

“Welcome,” is what Seungmin says, just as he did yesterday. You greet him back, smiling politely as you make your way to the shelves. The room is almost empty. There’s only one other person in the library, a book with black hair on his own table, and he seems to be in his own world.

Hyunjin is also seated at a table, books and paper plastered on the wooden surface as he repairs torn pages. An uninterrupted routine he’s probably grown accustomed to.

“Hello.” You decide to greet the boy as you pass by the table he’s occupying. His hair is swept back today, and it looked like it smelt good.

His eyes light up when he sees you.

“You’re hello again.” He tilts his body so he can look at you, bowing a little. Though, his words come out croaked, and you’re unsure if you heard him right.

“Sorry?” Hyunjin doesn’t repeat himself. Instead, his face grimaces at how he had failed to utter the phrase he had practiced—hello, you’re here again.

But it isn’t his choice of words that surprises you, it’s that he spoke to you at all. His tone is soft, and completely unexpected after the silence you had received the day before. It’s the first words he ever tells you, and you find yourself smiling at the small progress.

A voice in your head tells you that you want to know him more.

So, after a few days of fleeting eye contact and small smiles from afar, you decide to come back to the library.

The afternoon air outside is beautiful, as it always has been when you walk outside, and there’s a mental checklist you go through in your head. Forgetting is so easy, so you try not to.

Buying Kkami dog food was first on the list of things you have to do on your way home from the library. The little chihuahua doesn’t seem to mind being left behind. In fact, Kkami loved his little space on the couch. Though, you still promise to be back as soon as possible, wanting to walk him outside while the sun is still up.

Hyunjin is seated at the same table as he did when he first talked to you, books and pages neatly plastered again when you walk into the library.

Today, you’ll try your second attempt at talking to him.

“Do you… repair all the books yourself?” You ask, looking down at the multitude of pages he’s tending to and the stack of books waiting to be repaired in a trolley parked at the side of his table.

“Yes.” He smiles upon answering, and it’s one that radiates pride in the work he does.

Your lips quaver slightly, trying to find words to say to him. You wonder if it’d be okay with him if you wanted to help out. The work looks interesting, and a little soothing. Would that make him uncomfortable?

Fiddling with the ends of your shirt, you stab your hesitance straight in the chest. “Can I try too?”

His mouth falls agape, and then he’s nodding his head, gesturing for you to take the seat adjacent to him. Hyunjin grabs an extra spatula, passing it to you before smiling shyly down at the books and pages.

“You take the spatula, and spread the glue evenly.” Hyunjin looks up at you before grabbing a page and his own spatula so you can mimic his gestures. “Then, you place the page at its original location.”

He closes up the book he’s working on, patting down at the spine so the glue sticks well. “That’s it.”

“Oh.” You look at his work with fascination, smiling as he sets the book aside. “You’re kind of like a doctor. It’s like you’re applying medicine to the books.”

He grins at your words, eyes averting from your eye contact as he shyly grins. You know he has pure love for what he does, and it warms your heart. It’s a sentiment you wish you had for your job back then.

“I think…” You fix your gaze to your hands that are propped on the table, intertwining your fingers together. “I’m in love.”

Hyunjin’s inability to look you in the eyes seems to falter the moment you speak. His mouth falls back into an ‘o’, and the tip of his ears are awfully red.

“Wait, sorry. What I mean is… I think I’m in love with the process of fixing up old things.” With slightly widened eyes, you gesture at the book he had just fixed cartoonishly, chewing on your lips a little embarrassedly.

The boy in front of you nods, fingers pausing over his task; you turn to look at him, and you’re relieved to see his smile returning.

“I see.” He chuckles, grabbing onto the pages that still need to be glued and grouping them together, tapping them lightly on the table so they align.

“Let me help you.” You reach out to the remaining pages, and Hyunjin looks at you with an expression you don’t quite recognize, but you know has no ill-intent. He always looks this way. Always natural, never forced.

As you quietly work on the task, Hyunjin can’t stop himself from looking at you from time to time. He thinks it’s to monitor your work, but does that excuse the way he stares at the small smile tugging on your lips?

“Has anyone told you how you resemble Aphrodite?”

“Me?” He asks, eyes darting you and the book he’s working on. You grin at him, nodding your head.

“Yes. Goddess of Beauty in Greek Mythology. You know her, right?”

“I do.” He smiles back easily, willing the blush that’s obviously creeping on his cheeks away.

“When I first met you, that character came to mind.” You mumble as you stare at the page in your hands, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to match it to its proper book. You pause, catching yourself before you can misplace the page, and Hyunjin looks up at the sudden silence.

“Which one was this again?” Sheepish. You think you’ve embarrassed yourself more times than not in this library.

You don’t notice Hyunjin leaving his seat, sauntering over to where you’re seated so he can peer at the page and at the books in front of you. “May I?”

His tone is kind, and it didn’t seem as if he were upset that you didn’t know where to put the page. On the contrary, he made you feel as if it was okay that you didn’t know. Quick to reassure.

“I don’t memorize all of these either. I only remember the names and places in the books, and I like drawing to keep an image of them in my head too.” He’s arranging the pages now, putting the corresponding paper atop the book they belong to. “Why don’t you try this one?” The way he says it is so full of expectation, leaning down to hand you a page and you can only smile up at him.

“I’ll give it a try.” You sputter out for words to say, taking the page from him gratefully.

Seungmin watches from a distance, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity as he observes his usually quiet friend speak more words than usual. Though, the observation makes his heartstrings contract.

It goes on like this for a while, silence engulfing the pair of you as you work to repair the books together. Hyunjin showed no signs of you being a bother to him, even reaching out to help most of the time—appreciative of your time. No sound follows, just the beating of your hearts and the rustling of paper.

Until a loud bang rumbles in the sky, interrupting the four of you in the room (even the freckled boy at the corner table who is at the library again today).

Your reaction is instantaneous, jumping back in surprise at the sudden interruption of silence, but a smile replaces the initial shock when you see the gentle pitter patter of rain from the windows.

Hyunjin slips himself out of his seat, rushing to close them so the books don’t get wet as Seungmin goes to help, all while you stare at the drizzle.

You’re reminded of the last day you stepped foot in the city.

“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim when the sound of the rain increases in volume. The burst of rain as the sky splits open reminds you of your laundry and how the initial heat they absorbed must’ve been washed off by the rain.

“I have to go.” You quickly excuse yourself from the boy who has just returned from closing the windows, smiling for the last time before rushing down the stairs to start heading home. Though, you falter in your step. You don’t have an umbrella with you. Should you just make a run for it? You think the jacket you’re wearing can help at least a little bit.

You sigh, about to step into the rain when a hand reaches for your shoulder. Warm and gentle, almost feather-like even. You spin around, only to be met with Hyunjin’s goddess-like features.

“Hyunjin?”

He clears his throat, pulling out his umbrella before handing it to you. “Use this. You’ll get sick.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I can just use my jacket!” Hyunjin doesn’t seem to budge at your rejection, simply smiling as he places the umbrella in your grasp.

“I think an umbrella will do a better job than your jacket.” You laugh a little, not knowing he was capable of teasing. It was cute. He was cute.

“Thank you! I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.” You don’t know why your heart is thumping so fast at the small gesture, but you reason it’s because you’re worried about your laundry. Though, a voice in your head is telling you that’s not quite the answer.

He disappears back into the library, and you shield yourself with his umbrella as you sprint back home to tend to your now wet clothes. The rain smelt acidic as you put away your clothes, setting them aside as the sun seems still so far away in the distance. You’ll hang them back outside when the heat returns.

“Did the thunder scare you?” You pick up Kkami in your arms, cradling him as you try to shield him away from the sudden loudness of thunder and lightning. “I’m sorry I couldn’t walk you out in the sun today.”

The rain is louder in your house, and it’s only when your own stomach grumbles do you remember you were supposed to buy Kkami dog food on your way back home.

Forgetting is so easy.

“I’ll go buy you some food, okay? You must be starving.” You rub the back of his ears, setting him down on the couch before grabbing the umbrella Hyunjin had lent you once again. Though, thankfully, the downpour stops just as quickly as it had started. You’re already inside the family-run convenience store near you when the sky clears out and the sun starts to peek behind the clouds again.

“What can I get you?” You turn to find a shorter man emerge from the back of the store, warm smile etched on his face as he pads his way to where you’re standing.

“I hope the rain wasn’t too hard on you.” He continues. His tone is kind as he waits for you to reply.

“Ah, it was okay.” Though initially caught off guard at the sudden presence, you return the smile gently. “I was wondering if you had any dog food?”

“We do!” He heads to a corner, and the way he grabs the bag of dog food punctuates his arms that you can only now see how big they are. His jawline is sharp too, noticing it the moment he turns that his side profile is visible to you.

He leans down to scoop up the bag in his arms, before heading back to you. “You’re the one who recently moved here, right?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” You hand him your payment before taking the bag in your arms, hugging it so the weight isn’t as heavy.

“Chan mentioned. I’m Changbin.” Changbin takes your payment, returning to you the change. “I hope we can be good friends.”

“(Name). It’s nice to meet you. I’ll… get going now!” You motion at the dog food in your hands, to tell him you still had a pup to feed at home before waving goodbye as you hurry back to your house.

There’s almost no rain now, the only sign that it had even drizzled was the acidic smell, the puddles that had formed on the concrete overtime, and the gentle trickle of water from one leaf onto the next.

Kkami is waiting for you at home. No one used to wait for you before.

five.

You come back to the library the next day, just like you said you would. This time, Kkami walks with you to make up for not being able to take him out under the sun yesterday. Though, you don’t expect the handwritten “temporarily closed” sign to be the first thing that greets you as you head for the door.

You place Hyunjin’s umbrella just by the handle, almost in an awkward manner as you continue to peer at the piece of paper taped on the door.

“They both went to Seoul for Seungmin’s test.” A voice behind you averts your attention to the same freckled boy from yesterday.

“Ohh…” You respond, nodding your head in understanding as you walk over to where he’s seated just outside the public library. “I was just gonna return Hyunjin’s umbrella.”

Felix seems surprised, but it only triggers his smile to grow wider than it already is.

“I’m Felix.” You blink slowly, shaking his hand when he stretches it out for you to take. When your hand meets his, he pulls you down to sit next to him. “And who’s this little boy?”

“This is Kkami.”

Felix is a nice guy, pulling Kkami up to cradle him in his arms. The first thing that catches your attention is his freckles—like constellations in the night, littering his face like stars do the sky. You love the stars, though, you don’t see much of them in the city because of the polluted air and the abundance of lights from the buildings that line up.

The boy resembles the very comfort you find in the cluster of stars, a calming quality in him as he smiles down at your dog.

But, just as much as he resembles the stars, he smiles like the sun. Perhaps it's the way his eyes form crescents and the way his lips curve that trigger the sight of the sun. But he’s blinding in the most calming way possible.

“Do you have somewhere else you need to be?” He asks, shots of espresso in the way he speaks. Deep and reverberating. How fitting the way his voice wakes you up like the sun.

“I think I’m just gonna walk Kkami around.”

“Do you mind if I walk with you a bit?” Felix puts your dog down, tilting his head to look at you that radiates so much friendliness. “I don’t really know what to do with the library closed.”

He offers like he’s already your friend.

You knew it was an exaggeration to call him a friend right away, but for you it was just that. Especially when he walks by your side, laughing and talking to you as if he’d known you forever.

“You know, it’s nice to hear Hyunjin talk more.” His lips curl into a lovely smile as he continues to accompany you and Kkami in your walk.

“What do you mean?” You ask, eyes trailing down to Kkami who’s padding ahead of the two of you.

“He doesn’t do too well with strangers, doesn’t even talk a lot with me. I think he’s only ever truly warmed up to Seungmin, so it’s nice to just hear him more.”

You blink in surprise at his words before lifting your hand to where it was staring at Kkami in favor of looking at Felix instead.

“Oh.” You don’t know what to say or how to respond to the sudden revelation he’s laying down on you, and he throws his head back in laughter at your speechlessness.

“Don’t worry, I just felt the need to tell you. You don’t have to say anything.”

It goes on like this more—Felix initiating conversation and talking about almost everything until he has to go home. You end your walk with an exchange of numbers and a promise of ice cream the next time you come to the library together.

When you get home, it’s already 6pm. Kkami falls asleep almost right away, and you’re left to do the little chores you have left for the day. You wonder what you’ll have for dinner.

You’re in the middle of preparing a meal when your phone buzzes where you left it.

Ring, ring.

Your brother never calls anymore. So when you receive a call, you weren’t expecting to find his caller ID on the screen. You thought it was gonna be Felix who forgot to tell you something.

“Hello?” You’re the one who speaks first.

You're a ball of nerves wondering why he’s calling you right now.

“Hey (Name). Are you doing okay?”

“Hey, is something wrong?”

“Hm? Can’t an older brother call his sister to check on her?” There’s a scuffle in the background of his end.

“You never call.” You say quietly, picking at the ends of your shirt as you stare at nothing in particular.

“Oh, hah. Well, the thing is… can you lend us some money? You can sell the ring mom gave you. Itt’s just… our son, all his friends are studying abroad every vacation, but he never went.”

Your brother sounds shameless in his request, as if your mother hadn’t given him everything when she passed. All you have left of her are pictures in your head and the ring she had gifted you. You’ve never worn it, but you kept her going-away present. It’s the only thing you have left of her, and it hurts that your brother even thought of selling it just so his son could go on a trip abroad.

This ring meant something to you. Something more than a trip to him.

“Is this your wife’s idea? Does she want me to sell the ring mom gave me?”

“That’s not it.” He sighs exasperatedly, and you know he’s running a hand down his face at how this conversation is going. “Don’t you feel bad that your nephew is losing confidence because he’s never been abroad before?”

“Hey…” A lump forms in your throat, the familiar hands of pain wrapping around your neck to strangle you into tears. “Do you even… know how I’m living right now?”

Your voice cracks, choking on your own words to know that your brother only calls when he needs something. He doesn’t care. He never has. A sob is brewing in your throat.

“I do! But…” He’s getting defensive now, voice raising so he can try to get his non-existent point across. “My family is short on money right now.”

Family. The word is unfamiliar. It left you the moment your mother passed, replacing itself with loneliness. With emptiness. The unfamiliarity makes your face scrunch in the way it does before a hideous sob leaves your mouth, but you will yourself to get yourself together. Just for another minute, while you’re still on the call with him.

“Am I not family?” You mumble almost incoherently.

You don’t think you can handle talking to him any longer, not when he treats you like a bank account he can solicit money from anytime. Not when the first call you receive from him in years is that of asking you to sell your mother’s ring, not even to ask if you were alright, how you were doing.

The strangers in Angok treat you far better than your own brother.

You hang up before he can say anything else.

He has already caused you unbearable pain, and the reminder of how alone you’ve been. You want the pain to go away, you’ve worked too hard only to let it come back in full force. And there is only one way you know that can take it all away, even just temporarily.

It’s how you find yourself at Minho’s small restaurant, two bottles of Soju empty, and a disoriented haze of the place around you.

Minho doesn’t make it a habit to stick his nose in anyone’s business, but when your wobbly legs attempt to grab a third bottle of Soju, he’s hurrying by your table to stop you. “I’ve just made up a non-existent rule that you can only have two bottles.”

He takes it away from you, and you immediately pout when he does, a whine brewing in your throat. You try to imitate the way Puss in Boots looks, when he widens his eyes to get what he wants, but to Minho—you just look absolutely ridiculous.

“I’ve never heard of that rule before.” You mumble dejectedly, staring at the Soju bottle that Minho’s whisking away and putting back.

“It exists now because you’re piss drunk, and I don’t know how you’ll be getting home.” He says, tone softer than it was when you had first walked in ordering your first bottle, as if not wanting to startle you.

“I’m not drunk!” You blink rapidly, abruptly getting up to which Minho sits you back down so you don’t topple over your own clumsy feet. He mumbles something about getting you water.

“Everything just looks funny right now.” Your words come out in a slur as you look at your surroundings with a curious eye. “But I’m not drunk.”

When he returns, you have your head rested on the table, cheek mushed against the surface as your eyes droop a little in sleepiness. Though, there’s an addition of someone new in his shop. Hyunjin looks at you confused, before he fixes his gaze on Minho as if asking him why you were moping around at one of his tables.

“Don’t look at me. I don’t even know who this is.” Minho says in mock surrender, though, it doesn’t take long before his features mimic that of a Cheshire Cat. “You’ll take her home safely, right?”

Minho quickly ushers the pair of you out, waking you up and pushing you in the direction of Hyunjin who holds out his arms in case your feet decide not to cooperate with you. He needs to close his shop.

“Are you okay?” His arms are still hovering around you, not quite touching you, but prepared to if you ever fall forward.

“Hyunjin? How did you come to find me from so far away?” Your eyebrows furrow together as you stare at the boy beside you, as if there was no way he was real and with you right now.

“I’ll walk you home, okay?”

“I’m a bit drunk. I’m a little bit drunk right now.” You mumble, head still hazy as your eyes blink blearily, feeling the need to inform him. Your legs feel extra wobbly.

“Right. Are you okay?” He pulls you back to his side when you stumble a little too far away, soft tone never changing. He looks at your puffy eyes in curiosity, frowning as he thinks of all the possibilities as to why you had been crying.

“Goodness.” You exclaim in your half-conscious state when you almost trip on something, immediately reaching to what’s nearest to you—Hyunjin’s arm.

“Hyunjinnieee…” You start to sway where you’re walking, clearing your throat as Hyunjin is left predicting what your next move is going to be (on top of wondering why your eyes are red and stingy).

Though, he most definitely doesn’t expect you to start singing.

“Why do you appear before my eyes whenever I’m drunk?” It’s loud, uncharacteristic of the you he’s met, and your arms are flailing around as if to act like a conductor in your own orchestra of sounds.

“You’re going home now, okay?” Your smile is loopy as you nod at his words, continuing to sing the same one line over and over again while skipping in your step.

Hyunjin is attentive to where you’re walking, scooping up a potted plant and setting it aside when you’re about to walk into it. “Careful.”

You tell him all sorts of stories as you head home—how you fell in love with the library, how you never thought you’d own a dog, how you’re glad you’re far away from the city.

He listens. To every single one of your stories, all while making sure you get home safely. He looks both sides before crossing the street, hand outstretched to an incoming car to slow it down as you carelessly walk across without so much as a glance.

“Hyunjin.” You suddenly stop in your tracks.

“Hm?” Hyunjin ushers you to keep moving, hand hovering on the small of your back as you start giggling in your dazed state.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”

“Okay.”

“Is it okay if I ask right now?”

“Sure.” He replies, arms dropping back to his sides.

“Do you think you can like me? I don’t think anyone likes me.”

A silence settles between the two of you right after you get the question out. Hyunjin pauses in his actions, staring at you as you keep marching forward to where you live.

He allows himself to ponder over your sudden question. He couldn’t quite explain how he felt about you, but he knows it’s good. He has surprised himself time and time again for willingly continuing conversation with a stranger, but Seungmin has stressed it was good for him.

You emit a type of radiance, one of comfort. Maybe it was the way you smile at him, so softly when people look at him strangely for not being able to speak to them right away. He has only spoken to you once, but he knows he wants to talk to you more.

He wants to get to know you more.

He gives you a fond smile as he catches up with you once more. Hyunjin doesn’t know the connotation behind your question, and he doesn’t know what premise his answer falls under either.

Still, he says, “I already do.”

“Oh, we’re here!” You yell out and immediately quiet down when you realize everyone around you must be asleep right now. “Sorry.” Now in a whisper as you look around sheepishly.

“Can you get in safely?” He questions, worry still eminent in the way he speaks, even as you nod your head to answer his question.

“Don’t worry about me. Bye bye!” When you slip into your home, you immediately fall face first on your mattress and fall asleep. Drinking can be so draining when the world around you spins.

You don’t think about the splitting headache waiting for you the next day.

six.

You're fucked.

This much is clear as you finally finish vomiting in your toilet, images from the night before flashing in your mind— the giggling, the stumbling, and poor Hyunjin. You can still hear his voice in your head, telling you to get in safely. You can still feel the way his hand hovered over your back to make sure you don’t fall over.

Well, shit. This is way beyond anything you’ve ever done, moving up to the number one spot of the list you liked to label ‘embarrassment’. Calling Hyunjin miss and forgetting which pages go to which book moves down a spot at the sudden entry of your drunk ass.

“Kkami, what do I do?” You groan, head falling back against the wall of your bathroom as you stare at the ceiling. Will a letter of apology suffice for the way he had to take you home last night despite his exhaustion of driving to the city?

“This is so embarrassing.” Kkami consoles you by curling up by your side, paw resting on your thigh before his whole head drops to lay atop your leg.

Hyunjin is so pretty too. He’s enchanting in the way he speaks, and the way his eyes sparkle naturally when he does the things he loves. He’s unstinting with his kindness too, never losing patience even as you took a long time to repair the books you had offered to help with. You don’t even know if you helped much, but he never made a move to stop you even as time passed and you were making little progress.

It’s easy to fall into your embarrassment, which is how you find yourself with a notebook in hand, thinking of how the hell you were going to apologize to him. You don’t think you have it in you to go up to him face-to-face and have to recall the events of the night.

You might as well write something.

“About what happened last night…” You look at your notebook with critical eyes, immediately scratching it out to think of a better way to start your note.

“I’m sorry, Hyunjin. I don’t know how to say this.”

The second candidate is just as bad as the first one.

With your chin on the palm of your hands, you rack your brain for every possible way to say sorry. It’s not like apologizing was anything new to you, it’s even become a habit in your work life for the past few years. Always doing something wrong. Always apologizing. Even if it was never your fault to begin with. Though, this time, you want it to be genuine. You don’t want to imitate the phony way you’ve said sorry before.

Your eyes are glazed as you stare at the piece of paper.

Hyunjin has a routine fixed, so you make it a point to reach the library at noon when he’s busy pushing a trolley full of books to return them to where they belong on the bookshelves. He only hears the bell ring when you walk into the library, like you always do.

Peering over the shelves, he finds himself smiling to himself when you wander inside the library. He peels his gaze away for a few seconds to return a few books to their spots, though, apparently that’s also the time it takes for him to hear the bell ringing again, to indicate that you had left just as quickly as you had walked in.

Tilting his head, Hyunjin backs away from his work to check his desk where a small note sits.

“I’m sorry…” with a small drawing underneath.

It looks like the work of a child, but Hyunjin could tell instantly that it was a portrait of you and him from the night before. It prompts a smile on his face, eyes flicking from the note to the door. He keeps the piece of paper in his drawer to think about later.

Hyunjin has never had the courage to strike while the iron was hot, but he finds himself walking out the public library in hopes of catching you before you’ve left.

He finds you seated on the bench outside, eyes trained on the screen of your phone with your legs outstretched.

“Excuse me.”

You almost drop your phone when you hear him, immediately standing up to greet him. He looks good, as he always does. His complexion shines even prettier under the sun. The natural lighting highlights his hair in that it looks more dark brown than black. And his smile. It’s a little less shy now, and more open.

“Thank you for the note… and the drawing.”

He sounds like an angel too. You’ve always found his voice pretty, in a different way from Felix’s deep ocean voice. His was gentle, soft, and way nicer than you remember it being.

You try to think of the right words to say, sputtering over whether you should bring back what had happened last night or simply accept his thanks.

Taking a deep breath, you nod your head. “You’re welcome.”

Hyunjin has his hands clasped together in front of him as you speak, rocking himself back and forth on the heel and soles of his feet.

“You must’ve come in safely, then.” You laugh a little at what he says, and it only makes his smile brighter.

“Yeah. I’m sorry again.” It makes you cringe when you think of your behavior, but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind at all when he puts his hand up as a motion for you to stop apologizing.

“Not at all. I’m just glad to know you’re okay.”

The statement has your cheeks warming up, staring at him and the bag of ice cream you had initially brought for you and Felix. He had texted you earlier saying he couldn’t make it, and promised that he’d be the one to buy the ice cream next time.

Ice cream can be a good peace offering.

Grabbing the bag, you lift it up and smile coyly at the boy. “Do you want some ice cream?”

Hyunjin’s eyes form into crescents at your offer, lips curling up into an easy smile as he makes his way to sit adjacent to you. It feels nice like this, sitting outside in the breeze with only the two of you as you hand him the ice cream flavor of his liking, the tree just behind you doing a great job at shielding you enough that the sun’s heat isn’t too hot, but is still there.

“You know, I prefer cone ice creams over popsicles.” You mention suddenly, looking down at your cone and peering at the popsicle he had chosen for himself. He hums at the information, eyes softening when you ask him the same thing, like his opinions matter to you. Like you want to get to know him too. “What about you?”

“I’m not a big…” He catches himself before he can continue. Hyunjin isn’t the biggest fan of ice cream, but he finds himself unable to reject your offer. It’s an opportunity to sit in this moment with you.

He’d eat ice cream over and over again if it meant being able to stay in this moment.

“Well, ice cream does taste good, but the apple flavor…” He finds that he has a hard time answering your question, pausing to ponder over his words. It has you giggling. He looks cute thinking his options over.

“You don’t have to answer me.”

“But this one is good.” He lifts the popsicle in his hand, taking a bite out of it to show that he was being truthful with his words.

You laugh this time.

“You know, I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing when I first got here. But, I found myself falling in love with the library.” Hyunjin looks at you when you speak, unlike his previous inability to maintain eye contact with you.

“You’ve actually told me that already.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “I have? When?”

“Back then.” He’s gesturing something with his hands, and you continue to stare at him to try and decipher what he was acting out. Though, it’s pretty quick to figure out once he pretends to drink out of a shot glass, and your eyes widen at the realization of when he was referring to.

“Back then?” You repeat, and he chuckles at the way you roll your head back in embarrassment.

He hums in confirmation.

“What else did I say? When I… you know…” You trail off, looking at him for answers, but not quite wanting to repeat the words. He takes the hint well.

He laughs, before shaking his head. “It wasn’t so much talking, but rather singing.”

“I sang?” You stare at him dumbfounded as you try and recall what exactly happened. “I actually sang?” You laugh out loud this time, and you fail to notice the way his entire face lights up at the sound.

“What did I sing?” You look shocked and confused, yet there’s a smile of amusement on your features when Hyunjin actually starts singing the melody you had the night before.

“Why…” He clears his throat. “Why do you appear before my eyes whenever I’m drunk?”

“Wait, stop! Oh my god. Please stop.” You reach forward, resting a hand on the table and leaning forward to get him to stop singing.

“Can you please forget about that entire night?” You bring your hands together almost begging, and he can only laugh in amusement at the way you’re reacting.

“I don’t really think about it that often—“

“You even sang the song!” You interrupt.

“That’s because you asked.” He lifts a hand to scratch at the nape of his neck, bashfully smiling.

“This is so embarrassing.” You hang your head, a wince of an apology soliciting itself from your throat as you swing your feet back and forth to physically cringe at yourself.

Seungmin arrives at that very moment, his own complaints spilling out and drowning yours out. He pauses when he finds Hyunjin outside with you, squinting his eyes suspiciously before letting it go in favor of complaining once again.

“They’re so annoying! They think they’re so high and mighty.” He drops at the seat next to Hyunjin, and you offer him the only ice cream you have left in your bag. You have no idea what he’s talking about, but it seems Hyunjin knows all about it.

“They won’t do it?” Hyunjin asks, and Seungmin all but sighs as he starts peeling the wrapper off the ice cream.

“I mean, I guess it’s not easy to come down here to listen to old people talk.” Seungmin takes an annoyed bite, throwing his head back. “They might make me write the article, too. And I have to do it tomorrow. Can’t someone else do it?”

An idea forms in his head.

Hyunjin looks at you gingerly, and Seungmin visibly perks up when he follows the boy’s line of sight. You clear your throat, suddenly breaking eye contact and looking anywhere but the two boys.

“Will you please do it?” He grins wickedly, whole body tilted to face you as he reaches out to grab your attention.

“Well, you see…” You mumble. “I only proofread when I was working at a publishing company.” You point out sheepishly between each bite at your ice cream, doing your best to not look at Seungmin.

“The fact that you proofread means you’re familiar with writing.”

"Still…” You trail off with your words, not knowing how to defend yourself any further when Seungmin is clasping his hands and begging you to help them do the work. “I’m just not very confident.”

“(Name).” Hyunjin calls, and you look at him in hopes that he has a plan in mind to save you from Seungmin’s request.

“Why do you appear before my eyes…”

Your mouth drops at his words.

“What did you say?” Seungmin questions, and you look back at the boy to subtly shake your head, as if trying to get him to stop. Instead, he smiles a little mischievously.

“Whenever I’m…” You wince, immediately putting a hand up to stop him. Fortunately for Hyunjin, you’ve been begging him to forget about the night before, so you feel as though you owe him something.

With your head hung lightly and a look of defeat on your face, you finally agree to Seungmin’s request.

seven.

When you arrive, Hyunjin is already waiting for you with a camera slung around his neck. He looks so pretty with his hair falling messily over his shoulder. He’s wearing a white shirt and some jeans, though, what catches your eye the most is the huge knitted sweater he’s wearing.

“Hello, good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon.”

You fail to notice his own reaction, too busy admiring his beauty to realize he’s doing the same. Opposite you, Hyunjin’s jaw-dropping reaction to what you’re wearing is staring at your face with a small smile playing on his lips. He’s fiddling with his camera now, eyes traveling from the clip you’re wearing on your hair to the cherry lip balm you’d applied just before leaving.

What colors was he using painting you in his head? Pastel hues with a tinge of vibrancy.

“Shall we go then?” Suddenly, he can’t look at you, eyes trained just behind you as he asks.

“Okay.”

It doesn’t feel like a far walk with Hyunjin next to you. In fact, it barely takes 15 minutes before you reach the house of the person you’re supposed to be interviewing.

The outside of her home is beautiful, and an older woman you don’t recognize greets you and helps you both inside. Her home is surrounded by a wide expanse of grass, the view of the sea beautiful from a distance. The house itself is built with wood, and the row of vegetable plants lining up behind the low-standing table outside provides a breath of fresh air.

“Good afternoon. We’re here for an interview.” You inform politely, and she nods her head as if finally remembering why she’s letting two strangers into her home.

“Sit down, sit down.” Her tone is welcoming as she urges you to sit down, allowing Hyunjin to set up the camera on the camera stand he brought with him. Never imposing as she asks if you need anything else.

“You’re dressed so nicely.” You smile, the full view of her garden behind her accentuating her features. You’re sure she was quite the heartbreaker when she was younger.

“Just relax, and imagine you’re having a chat with your daughter.”

The interview goes smoothly. You ask her of things big and small—her age, her family, her history with Angok, anything you can think of. Seungmin didn’t give you any specifics to ask, just that you would write about her life. In this way, you’d be getting to know her.

She speaks of her children and grandchildren with so much love, that it almost makes you envious that you don’t have a grandmother figure to lean on. You’re all you really have left.

When you look over at Hyunjin, he gives you a toothless grin, as if to assure you you’re doing a great job. It lasts around an hour, and you’re just about ready to go home when she stops you and Hyunjin from fixing up.

“Oh, goodness.” She doesn’t need to ask for Hyunjin to hurry his way to her, grabbing the huge platter of food she grabbed from inside her house, settling it where you had sat earlier.

“I had no idea it was time for food. You guys must be hungry. Come on, let’s eat.”

“Thank you for the food.” You both say, and she only smiles as she admires the young couple in front of her.

The food is cooked with care, having just the right amount of seasoning. There’s a variety of vegetables which you assume to have been freshly picked from the garden she has. Hyunjin seems to mirror your thoughts, immediately praising her for the food.

“The food is delicious.”

“Really?” She finds pleasure in the way you’re enjoying your food. Perhaps, she was trying to catch a glimpse of her children in the two of you.

“Are you two married?” You and Hyunjin pause from eating, staring at each other before looking back at the older woman.

“No, we’re not.” You answer for him, laughing a little at the accusation she had just made. “We’re not married.”

“Oh, too bad. You guys would make a great couple if you were to marry.” She says light-heartedly, staring directly at the boy who’s refusing to make any eye contact at the sudden topic change. Hyunjin nearly chokes on the lettuce he’s eating, coughing a little as he mutters a string of apologies. She only smiles knowingly, offering up some water to the poor boy.

He swallows down his food, putting on a cordial smile directed at the old woman.

The rest of the time plays out without any more questions as to what the relationship is between the two of you, which Hyunjin is more than grateful for. He’s afraid of tripping over his own feet when you’re mentioned as his girlfriend one more time, as if choking on his food wasn’t enough already.

At some point, while you’d been talking, the sun had started to set which prompts the older woman to send in a flurry of farewells as she ushers the pair of you to get home safely.

Looking at you now, while the orange hues of the sun falls on your face, Hyunjin concludes that he feels something for you, evident in the way his heart starts beating a little faster and his palms start to sweat when you’re around. The awkward atmosphere between the two of you is long gone, and he finds himself hearing the gentle undertone of your voice in his head before he falls asleep.

He’s even more floored after today, after having seen first hand how you treat people with so much kindness—even Seungmin, who’s the number one enemy on everyone’s list in this small village. He admires the way you smile at strangers, and your eloquence in conversations even with the little words you say.

It’s only been a while of knowing you, yet he finds himself thinking about you all the time. From the first day you met that muggy afternoon, to how you helped him with repairing the books, even that drunken night where you had sang for him, and the morning after when you shared ice cream with him. He finds himself repeating these moments with you over and over in his head, like sifted sand, until they’re properly engraved in his mind.

“You know… all I really did today was listen to her stories, but my heart feels at ease because of it.”

Hyunjin looks at you as you walk side by side each other, the sunset’s glow falling on everything around you.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

When the wind blows, leaves from the trees lined up near you float around you. From time to time, you’d hear the crunch of crushed leaves as you step on them. All the while, Hyunjin is walking close to you, watching you and listening to you.

“Thank you for working with me on this.” Hyunjin suddenly says, words softer than expected as he locks eyes with you. He wants you to know he’s genuine in his gratitude.

“I hope you’ll like my writing once you get to read it.” You smile nervously, keeping eye contact with him, and you don’t know how pivotal this moment is for the boy. How your kindness is pulling him deeper and deeper into you, everything about you—your sweet smile and your bright eyes.

“I will.”

Talking to you feels easy and natural.

“You will?” A small smile creeps onto your face at his response, and he nods his head in confirmation.

Silence passes.

“I hope we can keep working on this together.” Hyunjin surprises himself with how straightforward he can be with you, with how easy it is to tell you he wants to keep spending time with you.

“If you buy me dinner tomorrow, I’ll think about it.”

The whole world stops in this pocket of time. While everyone goes about their evening, Hyunjin is stuck on your words. Your eyes glisten with a certain type of glow no one can replicate, and he thinks he’ll always remember your face right now, smiling fondly at him, lit by the setting sun.

“Okay. Dinner tomorrow.”

Heat continuously rises to his face the more you look at him, but Hyunjin supposes he can blame it on the sun for now.

eight.

It is exactly 6:36 in the evening when you meet Hyunjin at the library to grab dinner with him.

When the bell rings, he can’t help the smile on his face when he realizes it’s you that’s walking into the library. He never used to smile this much before. But it can’t be helped, not when it’s you.

“Hello.” He’s the one who speaks first.

“Hi.” You reply, mimicking the smile on his face. His eyes are glossy when you meet them.

“Shall we go to dinner?” He lets out a small breath, hovering just in front of you.

Hyunjin looks like a bundle of nerves. You don’t know that, in his head, this feels akin to a first date. One he hasn’t gone on in a long time. So, on the outside, he’s perfectly composed, eyes dropping on the wooden ground. On the inside, however, he’s sweating and twisting and turning and screaming that he’s about to have dinner with you.

“What? Are you buying dinner?” Seungmin’s nosy ears perks up at the mention of dinner, immediately moving from his place behind the desk to join the two of you. “I was just starting to get hungry. Come on, let’s go.”

While Hyunjin wants to be upset at the sudden third wheeling of Kim Seungmin, he finds that he isn’t.

As funny as it sounds, he’s kind of grateful for the sudden interruption. He’s too afraid that if you were to have dinner together, alone, and his fried brain was convincing him it was a first date—his feelings would become too real. He knows he likes you, but he doesn’t want to act on it too soon. He doesn’t want to scare you off, doesn’t want to scare himself off.

Hyunjin has way too much of a feeble heart, that even walking beside you right now, with your hands slightly brushing against the other, he can already hear his heart beating in his ears.

He has always thought of himself as patient, so he doesn’t understand why there’s a growing irritation at the back of his head for the inability to hold your hand in his. It’s even more confusing as he knows he’s never been the type to crave for skinship, never eager for physical touch. So, what’s changed?

“Yah, Lee Minho!” Seungmin’s voice is loud as he walks into the restaurant, though, a much younger boy greets him.

“Innie, where’s Minho?” Jeongin gestures at the kitchen, immediately setting off to find the older boy at the request of Seungmin.

You hide behind Hyunjin the moment Minho appears from the kitchen. You’re sure the memories from that night are still fresh in his mind, and he’d been the first to witness your drunken, hazy state. When he sees you, his lips tug into a lazy smirk, but he chooses not to say anything.

“We went to interview that old lady yesterday.” Hyunjin feels the need to inform Seungmin who’s smiling, pleased with his ability to coerce you into helping them out.

Everyone finally settles down into their seats, Hyunjin cooking the meat silently as conversation starts. Jeongin joins you not long after, asking if it was alright. Your food sizzles behind the chatter around your table.

“What interview?” Jeongin asks.

“A writer didn’t show up, so (Name) did the interview instead.” Seungmin informs the table, and Jeongin nods in pretense of understanding the situation.

“How did you know how to do that? Where did you work in Seoul?” Minho’s the one to ask this time as he refills your meat, setting down a plate of raw pork just by Hyunjin’s arm.

“She worked at a publishing company.” Seungmin says with a mouth full of food.

“I see. Then you must’ve had a lot of boyfriends.”

You tilt your head at Jeongin’s sudden proposition, like he’s trying to fit two completely different puzzle pieces. There’s absolutely no correlation between working at a publishing company and having multiple boyfriends. It seems Seungmin is wondering the same thing, cogs turning in his brain at Jeongin’s stupid question.

“How are those two related?” He deadpans.

“I’ve always found well-read girls charming and attractive.” Jeongin simply shrugs, shoving down another piece of cut-up meat in his mouth before chewing. “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

You fail to notice the way Hyunjin suddenly leans closer to the table, suddenly finding interest in the topic when he had been absent for most of the conversation.

“Oh, I used to have one. But we broke up.” You laugh a little nervously, quietly thanking Hyunjin who sets a few cooked pieces of pork on your plate so you don’t run out while eating.

“Why? How long did it last?”

Jeongin and Seungmin seem to have a lot of questions, and you can see Hyunjin sending them a side eye from your peripheral vision at their rather invasive question.

“Quite a long—“

Hyunjin concludes he doesn’t need to know anything about your ex-boyfriend. He smoothly interrupts the conversation by stuffing food in Seungmin’s mouth. “This is about to burn, you should eat it.”

He glares at the boy viciously, but even the scowl on Seungmin’s face couldn't crack Hyunjin’s persistence in cutting the conversation short. He doesn’t know if it's jealousy, never having felt it before, but he knows he doesn’t want the image of you kissing another boy imprinted in his mind.

Thankfully, Jeongin moves on to another topic, speaking about how he’s in the last year of college and how much he hates it. All the while, you and Hyunjin share small smiles from across the table.

You both let Jeongin and Seungmin carry the conversation. You were never good at keeping the flow of one going anyways. So, instead, you play the listening role. The one you’ve always been good at.

Throughout dinner, Hyunjin does little things for you. He refills your empty glass of water, he puts meat on your plate so you don’t run out, and he constantly checks up on you—to see whether you were overwhelmed with the loudness of the two boys.

He does so by looking at you with an endearing smile, light dimples on his cheeks as he chuckles when you smile back at him. It’s a quiet conversation between the two of you, even if it’s just communication between smiles. Hyunjin is like a breath of fresh air from the crackling volume surrounding you.

He offers to walk you home after the four of you finish up with dinner, telling you that he couldn’t allow himself to simply let you walk alone in the dark. You respond with the crinkling of your eyes and a soft ‘thank you’.

Being with Hyunjin, alone, is quite possibly the purest form of comfort you will ever know. He’s tender and gentle and attentive, like he knows what it’s like to have the peace you value being breached constantly. Though, lately, you find that the quiet you crave for isn’t necessarily complete silence. It’s the comfortable and uninterrupted calm you feel when you’re with Hyunjin—whether at the library or walking home together from dinner. When he’s with you, warmth always makes an appearance.

There is no demand to make conversation.

You let your gaze veer off to the sea and how the waves crash along the shore. There's a breeze softly wafting through your hair, and you smile at just being able to view the ocean anytime you want. A pleasure you’ve always been denied off back in the city.

As your simple house comes into view, your shoulders fall at knowing he would have to leave now. You stop in your tracks, biting at your lips, and Hyunjin waits for you to say something. Never demanding. Always patient.

“Do you wanna meet my dog?”

His mouth opens in response, before a toothless smile forms in his features. “I’d like that.”

Kkami’s wiggling body with his wagging tail is the first to greet you when you open the door. You crouch down, arms open so he can jump onto you just the way he likes. “I’m back. I’m sorry to keep you waiting all this time.”

“Come in, come in.” You urge Hyunjin to get in, resuming your standing position so you can close the door behind him. “You can keep your shoes on if you’d like.”

He refuses, immediately taking them off before crouching down to greet the long-haired Chihuahua. They get along right away, Kkami constantly tapping his paw on Hyunjin’s knees to get his attention.

“I’ll get you something to drink.” You disappear into the kitchen, grabbing him a glass of water before hurriedly returning.

His hand brushes against yours when he reaches to take the glass from you, and you hate how fumbly the simple gesture gets you. It makes you feel like you’re back in high school, helplessly crushing on the boy who’s way out of your league.

“I think he likes you more than me now.” You crouch back down, looking at the way Kkami nudges his head on the side of Hyunjin’s thigh.

“I think he’s just a friendly dog.” He reassures you, though, he can’t help but feel a little pride that your dog immediately warms up to him. He’s always wanted a dog too.

When Kkami starts to give his attention back to you, Hyunjin calls him back. “Come here. There’s food here, can’t you see?”

His false bribery has you laughing.

“Now you’re just lying to my dog.”

He’s unfazed, continuing to lie to your poor dog about the invisible food he has in hand. “I have food for you, come here.”

“Wow, my dog left me and chose you because of your fake food.” You pout when Kkami successfully sits himself on Hyunjin’s lap, barking in glee when the boy rubs the back of his ears.

He sets the empty glass on a table nearby, careful not to drop it with Kkami still on him, gaze falling on the ring around your finger when you take it so it’s safe in your kitchen sink.

“Your ring is really pretty.” His compliment is genuine, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the metal band your mother had given you, the one you started wearing since your brother called.

“My mom gave it to me. It has the number 220 engraved on it, apparently for bravery.”

“Suits you very well then.”

“I was really afraid when I first moved here, you know. I had no idea what I was doing. I thought I’d fallen into defeat.”

You recall your uncertainty when you had left everything you’d ever known in the city, following the heartbeat in the town of Angok.

“Men are not created with defeat in mind. We may fall at times, but we’re never defeated.”

“That’s a good line.”

“I stole it from a book.” He says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Wanna know something cool?”

You nodded your head, sitting with your legs crossed on the floor in front of him.

“Your ring has the number 220, right? Well, back in college, I used to play sports. My jersey number was 284.” You don’t know where he’s going with this, but you listen anyway.

“They’re both amicable numbers. The sum of factors of 220 is 284, and the sum of the facts of 284 is 220.” He says with a smile, hands smoothing down your chihuahua’s fur. “These numbers are linked together by some fate, like your ring and my jersey.”

Hyunjin is a quiet surprise, sputtering about amicable numbers and mathematics to you. It’s almost endearing, how he had found something between the two of you and connected it to something he knows.

Your ring and his jersey. Amicable numbers.

There is so much to Hyunjin, so much you still don’t know and want to learn.

“That is pretty cool.” You think back about it in your head, how rare these numbers are, and how they found themselves to the both of you. Maybe knowing Hyunjin has always been written in the stars, and maybe you’ll know him in every lifetime after this one.

At the same time, Hyunjin is grinning to himself. He’d always thought love was far off, but it looks like it’s been in front of him this whole time, smiling back at him. He knows what he’s feeling, this overwhelming warmth, and he knows it’s real now more than ever.

In this moment, there is nothing else but you, him and Kkami and the knowledge that he’s falling in love with you. Right here, right now, all he sees are your eyes and your smile and the way your hands are brushing as you lean down to scratch Kkami’s ears.

Hyunjin feels like his heart is about to burst, and he has to clear his throat and put Kkami down in some poor excuse of needing to get home. He has to before he does something he might regret. The tides of the waves are pulling at him to make a move on you, and he’s afraid he might never make it to shore at the sheer overwhelmingness of his feelings for you. Could it be possible that you made a move instead?

“I think I have to get going now.” He whispers, and you nod your head, moving to stand up when he does. “Thanks for coming to meet Kkami. You should say goodbye to Hyunjin. Say thank you for visiting! Goodbye!”

You move Kkami’s paw to imitate waving.

“Goodbye!” His smile is wide as he bends down to wave back at your dog, taking small steps backwards until he’s by your door.

“I’ll write up a story about the lady we interviewed and send it to you.” You mention, fumbling with the knob to open it for him.

“Sure.” When you don’t make a move to say anything else, he turns his back to start walking away.

“By the way…” Hyunjin immediately turns back around, both hopeful and hesitant at what you have to say to him. His eyes hold yours, waiting for you to continue. “Are you free—“

“Good evening!” Chan’s booming voice interrupts what you were able to say. “Sorry it took me so long. I’m here to help you with the water leakage?”

You’d almost forgotten. You had called Chan earlier this morning to ask if he could help you fix up the issue with your sink.

“No, it’s okay. Hi, good evening.”

“Weren’t you about to say something?” He asks, and you suddenly feel too shy to ask if he wanted to hangout with you soon. The Little Mermaid live action was coming out soon, and you’d been excited to check it out. You thought, maybe it would be fun to watch it with him.

“Ah, it’s nothing.” An unidentifiable emotion flickers in Hyunjin’s features when you suddenly double back on what you were supposed to say—of dejection? You can’t say for sure, especially when a small smile returns to his face and he’s waving goodbye at you one last time.

“Chan, come in.” In your head, you’re still bruising yourself over cowardly backing down from asking Hyunjin to eat dinner with you tomorrow, hopefully with just you two this time.

Your water leakage problem doesn’t take too many steps, but it does need a few tools that only Chan has. When he finishes, you tell him to sit down a little, finding something to offer him for fixing up what had been broken under your sink.

“What’s going on between you and Hyunjin?” It catches you off guard, the unfiltered way he suddenly asks the question with obvious teasing dripping down his tone.

“Nothing.” You say too quickly, shaking your head.

“I was kidding. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Aren’t you gonna pry?” You’re not used to anyone not prying. Back in the city, you barely could keep anything a secret. Always forced. Always fidgety with the way they ask you questions, only to use that information against you later.

“No. As long as you’re happy, and both of you don’t get yourself hurt.”

His considerateness is breathtaking, and it almost has you tearing up the way he treats you better than your own brother. Chan doesn’t need to hug you for you to feel safe, he just has to smile and look at you with his eyes round of warmth.

He feels familiar, like… family. You think this is what family should feel like.

“Thank you, Chan.” You breathe, and he breathes with you. He reminds you he’s only one call away, and your heart feels like it’s being stripped until it’s bare.

This is family. Chan is family.

And Hyunjin quite possibly is love.

nine.

The epiphany you had posed to yourself the night before proved to be almost as difficult as the one you had when you had left the city. Inevitable, but that doesn’t mean it scared you less. Uncertainties often make you feel vulnerable, and what is love but a thread of uncertainties waiting to be untangled?

You can’t focus in your little rented space, the four corners tend to look smaller and smaller when you’ve trapped yourself long enough in your head. It’s terrifying, to feel the walls closing in on you. So, you might as well take Kkami out on a walk where you aren’t encased in liminal space.

The breeze outside is the kind that takes all the weight off your chest, leaving you to start anew in your train of thoughts. When you try to find the beginning of when you had started to see Hyunjin differently, you lose the thread and find yourself empty-handed. No one has told you how difficult it is to tend to the knotted spool of love.

Was it in his kindness which he showed in the smallest ways, barely noticeable but there when you look close enough? He doesn’t smile in large amplified ways, but the way he looks at you with intention leaves such an impact.

Everything he does—on purpose and by choice and intentionally. From the way he constantly checks on you, and the umbrella he had offered, and the patience that never seems to run thin. He smiles and talks to you by choice, and he gets to know your dog intentionally. You’re enamored with the entirety of Hyunjin, with the way he’s passionate about his job, and the gentle way in which he helps those around him whether that’s driving Seungmin to Seoul or treating Jeongin to dinner. He’s beautiful as he listens, as he shows that he will always listen.

It’s a lot to handle, and it’s a huge epiphany to admit to yourself, so you walk without destination. Nature and the beauties of Angok, you find, can take your mind off of anything. Just like that day you had escaped the city.

There are birds singing from the trees, accompanying the wind with their tunes as they whistle. The breeze carries it everywhere, the sound of their whistling, the crashing of the waves bathing the seashore. Had you really existed in a time before you’d known the salt of the ocean breeze and the sun shining the entire village with a glow?

Everything is beautiful here. There’s nothing that isn’t with the flurry of color bursting in the town of Angok, with the gentle chatter of generations of people who live there, with Hyunjin’s back walking a little ahead of you.

“Hyunjin?”

Maybe you don’t really care about the multitude of ways you can unravel the knotted spool. Maybe the only thing that matters is this moment with him, and every other moment with him.

He turns around immediately at the recognition of your voice, lifting a hand up to wave at you before greeting Kkami. You shoot him a smile, speeding up a little to catch up with him as he stands planted on his spot. Kkami runs faster than you do, already barking by Hyunjin’s feet and jumping up to get the boy’s attention.

There is no overthinking in the way he smiles back at you so easily. No thread to think about.

“Hi.” His gaze never falters from yours, even as noises stir around from a distance.

“Hello. I was just walking Kkami.”

“If we’re going the same way, why don’t we walk together?” He offers.

“Okay.”

A heartbeat passes.

“By the way, what are you doing out here? You know… instead of being in the library.” You ask inquisitively, not used to seeing him outside so early in the day.

“Seungmin’s been a bit anxious over the next part of his exams, so I went to buy him some food. It always calms him down.”

It’s only then you realize the bag of food he’s holding, and the sight only melts your heart further.

“You’re a really good friend.”

“I just do good upon others as I wish the same for myself.” How lovely, how he wants to make the world so painfully beautiful that people want to live in it.

“Well, the world isn't as cold and gloomy because of you.” You smile, and Hyunjin can’t help the way his words jumble up in his mouth at the kindness you utter. He’s wordless, all tangled in longing and flustered-ness.

You make him feel like he can hold sunlight in his hands.

“I’ll be going this way now.” A point in the opposite, and Hyunjin can only frown in disappointment of your time cut short.

“Take care.” He says, standing his ground as he watches you and Kkami start to walk away from him.

Static is zipping through the air, louder than ever. Hyunjin’s fiddling with the straps of his pants, contemplating and contemplating and contemplating—

“(Name)!” The sound of your name on Hyunjin’s lips makes your head instantly turn back.

“Yes?”

Hyunjin’s fumbling with everything he’s ever known, eyes falling to his own hands before back to yours.

“By any chance, are you going to have dinner—“ Hyunjin pauses. No, that doesn’t sound right. “I mean, are you busy tonight?”

“I’m not.”

A knowing smile on both your faces.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

The thread is long gone.

ten.

Hyunjin has a profound ability of surprising you every time. He’s almost unpredictable in his kindness—showing up when you’re drunk, refilling your plate with meat, and now handing you a bag of dog toys for Kkami.

“I thought he might like this.”

“Oh, thank you.” You take the bag gratefully, smiling at the selection of chew toys inside before looking back up at the boy. “I haven’t gotten him anything nice, so thank you, really.”

“I also have this for you.” He brings out more shyly this time—a necklace beaded in shells. You look down at it, the necklace. No one’s given you anything in a long time. “You always have this look on your face when you look at the beach. So, it just… reminded me of you.”

You lift it up carefully, almost feather-like as you stare at the simple necklace.

“Hyunjin.” The way he’s looking at you is so powerful, yet so vulnerable at the same time, eyes tinging in hope that you’d like the little present he had gotten you. It’s a look you can feel inside. “Thank you.”

He helps you wear it when you attempt to wrap it around your neck yourself. Wordless, you don’t have to say anything as he gently closes it to encase it around your neck.

“Do you like it?” There it is again. That vulnerability.

“I love it.” You smile, hand lifting to fiddle with the necklace. “I’m never taking it off.”

Hyunjin’s eyes soften, features glowing under the streetlights as you finally resume your walk to where you’ll be eating dinner together.

He had called himself out multiple times as he was pondering over whether to buy it for you or not the moment he sees it, telling himself he was too obvious with the way he feels for you, and yet the thought of the sincerity in your face when you receive it overpowers the voice in his head. He finds himself getting it for you. He was always gonna get it for you the moment he saw the necklace.

“Then, do you want some chicken and beer?” Hyunjin asks as you reach a crossroad, multiple intersections splitting the road into separate parts of the village.

“Chicken and beer?”

“Mhm. Last night, I was actually gonna ask if you wanted chicken and beef before Seungmin tagged along.”

“Oh?” You smile at the thought. “That sounds good actually. Wait, let me search a place up.”

You barely even unlock your phone when Hyunjin starts speaking again.

“Well, if we go that way,” he motions to the first intersection. “There’s a really old place that sells amazing fried chicken. And there’s a place down that way where the interior is nice and spacious, but the chicken doesn’t taste as good.”

“And down that way,” he continues, pointing towards the other intersection. “There’s a place with outdoor tables known for its refreshing beer.”

“You’ve really done your research.” You grin, fiddling with the phone in your hands as you look at Hyunjin who has his shyly behind his back after he has finished speaking.

“Yeah.” He exhales, smile still on his face. “Just in case.

Just in case he got enough courage to ask you out is the continuation of his sentence, though he chooses to omit it for now.

“I…” You ponder, recounting the options in your head before forming a number 3 with your fingers. “Choose number three. Beer tends to vary more in taste than chicken.”

“I see.” He nods his head, taking your words in as he thinks about the numerous times fried chicken had tasted the same to him. “Well then, let’s go that way?”

A silver of the moon shines on the two of you as you settle down the table, arriving 10 minutes after you had pondered over your choices at the intersection. The night breeze is pleasant, blowing in between the two of you until your stomachs are full from the food.

“This is so refreshing.” You praise after having taken a chug out of your beer, leaning your head back to savor the taste longer. “Whoever thought of eating chicken and beer together is a genius.”

He listens, hanging on to every single word you say as he takes a bite out of his own piece. The sight has him wondering if you were free tomorrow too.

Similarly, you’re thinking if you should try to invite him to watch Little Mermaid with you again.

“Are you also busy tomorrow?” His sudden question has your cheeks heating up despite the cold of the breeze and the beer.

“Why? Do you wanna see a movie?” It comes out fast, blurted, speeding from your mouth.

“A movie?”

Oh, shit. You didn’t even realize how you’d suddenly sprung up the topic on him without so much as an introduction.

“What I meant was… there’s just this movie I really wanted to see, and I think it’s out in theaters already.” You laugh a little at your own slip up, hoping to have clarified it better.

The sound makes Hyunjin’s smile widen.

“I see.” He takes a sip out of his own beer.

It’s silent for a while. A second blending into a minute, until you decide you can’t take it any longer.”

“Do you want to come with—“

“Should we watch—“

You make eye contact the moment you speak over one another, and it’s enough to trigger the laughter that’s bubbling in your throats at the sheer coincidence of asking each other out at the same time.

“Only if it’s okay with you.” He says once the pair of you stop giggling, tone significantly softer..

Always putting your comfort at the top priority.

“I’d actually really like that.”

It’s all smiles as you pay for your meal, and you don’t quite notice the slow pace in which the two of you are walking home, as if never wanting the moment to end. As if the great sense of contentment is too much to let go of right away.

Your footsteps fall in with Hyunjin’s, and your smiles never leave your faces on the rest of your way home.

eleven.

Hyunjin spends two days in Seoul to accompany Seungmin as he finishes up the final stages of his Civil Licensure exam.

The first day away from the library is spent just at home, cleaning and finishing up on chores you’ve been meaning to do—putting away your clothes after doing laundry, feeding Kkami, sweeping the floors, and even dusting some shelves because of the abundance of free time. It’s therapeutic, the way you’re able to hold your own time and decide what you want to do for the day. In the afternoon, you walk your chihuahua outside, exploring more of Angok than you could’ve dreamed. It’s a beautiful village, and you find you don’t mind the lengthy walk. If it means you get to be with nature leisurely, you don’t have anything to complain about.

There’s so much time for happiness here, unlike the dark of your room in the city.

When you pass by the library the next day to continue mapping out Angok, you’re surprised to see the hunched over figure of Felix by the benches. You wonder what he’s doing here.

“Felix?” You speak cautiously, tentative even as you walk to his side.

The closer you get, the more you hear his sniffles. An alarm sounds in your head, and you immediately reach a hand over to rub his back as gently as possible. “What’s wrong?”

The words he mumbles are unclear, incoherent as they come out jumbled and stuttered. When he finally lifts his head up, the sight physically hurts you. Who could dare hurt the sun?

You move some of his hair out of his face, sitting down next to him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Instead of answering, he lunges forward, jumping in your arms to seek comfort in your hug. It catches you by surprise, not because you’re uncomfortable, but because it’s only now you realize how long you’ve gone without a hug. You didn’t grow up from an affectionate family, and your time in the city knew of no comfort. This feels far better than pressing your back against your bed.

Snapping from the initial shock, you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer which only seems to let him release a louder sob. It seems he really needed this.

“I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.” His words are deep and choked, head still buried on your shoulder as he soaks up the shirt you’re wearing.

“You could never disappoint anyone.” You run a hand through his hair, the other hand running smooth circles on his back.

You don’t know how long you hold him like this, but after a while, his tears finally subside and he moves to pull away from the embrace. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Reaching out, you swipe away the tears on his wet cheeks, smiling softly. You’re relieved when you see him return the gesture. It seems he doesn’t want to talk about what happened, but you find that it’s okay. He likes that you just listen without demanding him to tell you everything.

“Wanna go eat something at Minho’s? My treat.” You whisper, afraid to startle the poor boy, and his eyes seem to brighten at the suggestion.

“Would that really be okay?”

“Of course. Come on.” You walk with him to Minho’s little restaurant, making small conversation about anything he wants to talk about. If it means he’ll forget about whatever hurt him, you appease any topic that spills from his mouth.

“Ah, good afternoon (Name), Felix.” Minho waves when you enter his space, and you wave back at the boy.

He finally knows your name.

The ten minutes it takes to wait for the food is apparently the same time it takes for Jisung and Chan to stumble into the restaurant and greet the two of you loudly. They drop at where you’re seated, adjacent from you and Felix as they ask you questions of how you’re doing and what you two were up to.

You’re keen to stay as Felix’s emotional support, looking at him first before answering the two boys. It seems he feels way better now, in the presence of people he considers home.

“Look what I have.” Jisung brings out another tupperware from his bag, opening it up to reveal some cupcakes his mom had probably baked again. He excitedly takes one for each of you, babbling about how he can’t finish it all himself or else he’ll suffer from high blood pressure. “I’m glad I bumped into you guys. My mom’s been going crazy with the baking.”

“Felix likes baking too, right?” You turn to the boy next to you, and he nods his head as he recalls the conversation you had earlier on the way here.

“I’ve been trying to make some brownies.” He’s proud as he speaks, hands moving animatedly as he explains to them the process. The three of you listen carefully, immediately demanding him to bake some for you guys to which Felix says he will in his free time.

“Jeongin’s on his way.” Chan nudges Jisung who suddenly stands from his seat. He grabs a cupcake from the container, and you think he’s about to give it to the younger boy when suddenly, the icing crashes on the unsuspecting Jeongin’s nose.

“Are you nuts, Jisung?!” He exclaims, peeling the cupcake away from his icing-stained face.

“That’s what you get for rejecting my kisses.” Jisung smirks mischievously, though it’s quickly wiped off when Jeongin swiftly grabs a chunk of the icing and slaps it on the older boy’s cheek.

Minho’s voice is booming as he says, “Hey, don’t get the floors dirty!”, though there seems to be a hint of fondness on his features as he watches everything unfold before him.

“Oh my god.” With a hand covering your mouth, you can’t help the giggles from spewing it as Felix snorts from beside you.

“Come here, let’s wipe it off.” You get up from your seat, guiding Jeongin to the seat next to yours as you grab a pack of tissues from your bag, moving to wipe the smeared icing from his nose, cheeks, and eyes.

“What about me?” Jisung pouts, and Chan all but laughs as he pulls the boy down to start doing the same thing.

“Are you guys okay?” Felix’s voice is way steadier now, more than it was earlier, and it even holds laughter in it. Your heartbeat calms down at knowing he must feel better. At least this moment can take away what pained him, even for a few hours.

“You have a death wish, Han Jisung.”

“Not the government name.”

Though, Jisung only laughs at the threats spilling from Jeongin’s lips, proud of his work.

When Minho brings the food, Jisung successfully pulls him down to eat with all of you. It’s polarizing how you used to hate meal times, used to hate thinking about what to eat, or the fact that you’d be eating alone. Now, with laughter roaring from your table, you find yourself excited.

People are calling out for you to eat.

You spend hours there, listening to their stories. Before you know it, night dawns upon you, and Felix offers to walk you home.

“(Name)?”

“Hm?” You turn your head to look at Felix who’s already looking at you with a smile on his face.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything, though.” You laugh, and Felix shakes his head as he maintains unwavering eye contact.

“Thanks to you, I feel happier now.” There’s a toothless grin on his face, though, it’s threatening to grow even wider by the second.

He genuinely looks happy.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Felix’s words stay stuck in your mind even as you lay down to sleep. For a brief moment, you were able to make him happier. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more accomplished than this very moment. There are no words to describe how beautiful the feeling is of being the cause of someone’s smile.

The rest of the night is spent thinking, and it’s only when your phone buzzes is it interrupted.

hyunjin (10:48pm): hi, are you asleep? i hope i’m not bothering you

yn (10:49pm): hello! not asleep yet :) you’re not bothering me at all

hyunjin (10:51pm): seungmin’s exams ran longer than i thought

yn (10:51pm): tell him i said hi !!

hyunjin (10:52pm): is texting a bother? do your wrists hurt when you type?

yn (10:52pm): just a little

He calls you suddenly, and it’s enough for your heart to jump straight out of your chest. Pressing the phone to your ear, you finally speak. “Hello?”

“I hope your wrists don’t hurt anymore.” You can hear the mumble of cars honking in the background, but his words tune them out.

“I guess this will do.”

Hyunjin pauses for a moment, allowing himself the moment to soak up the warmth of your voice and how two days is far too long to be away from your sweet voice.

“It’s nice to hear your voice.”

You swallow hard, shutting your eyes as you bring the phone away a little to let out a suppressed scream. You feel like a schoolgirl, kicking your feet and giggling over his words.

Calming yourself down, you reply, “But, don’t you have to sleep now?”

“Hmm, not yet.“

“Well, what do you wanna talk about?”

“Everything. I wanna know everything about you.” He breathes from his end of the line, running a hand through his hair.

You can hear the sincerity from his voice even if you can’t see him.

“Oh.” You murmur. There’s a blush playing on your cheeks. How is he able to make you feel everything all at once?

The conversation lasts almost 2 hours, until he has to let you go so you can sleep before the clock strikes one in the morning. He feels slightly terrible for keeping you up, but he’s selfish in that it doesn’t bother him that much. Hyunjin missed you, missed the lull of your voice, and he’s happy to have heard it before going to sleep.

“I’ll see you tomorrow? For the movie?”

“Okay. See you.”

You can almost see him, open-mouthed smiles as he speaks. It’s always so evident in his voice when he does.

“Goodnight.”

“Sleep well.”

Hyunjin drifts off to sleep, and it’s the best one he’s had since yesterday.

twelve.

You tug at the dress you’re wearing as you wait outside the theater building. It’s a simple sleeveless white dress that goes down just above your knees, yet you’re still a little nervous whether you’re underdressed or overdressed. Your hair is down as it always is, a little messed up from the wind, and you had worn lip gloss after Kkami had barked once when you’d asked him.

It’s a simple theater for a simple date. You’re not even sure if you could call it a date, yet you were both ecstatic to finally watch the movie and to watch it with Hyunjin.

Smoothening down the creases of your dress that aren’t even there, you finally catch sight of Hyunjin from afar. He looks so handsome with his white sweater and denim pants, hair tucked behind his ears as he wears a pretty-boy-but-is-unaware smile.

Aphrodite’s son.

He’s waving at you, cheeks flushed in a warmth you fail to see as you try to suppress your own grin.

His knee-jerking reaction to you is open-mouthed staring, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips to your hair to your dress all in the span of a second.

Hyunjin isn’t as relaxed as he thought he was. He had prepared himself to see you again after two days, prepared to watch a movie with you and possibly brush hands as you reach for the popcorn, though he wasn’t quite prepared for the white dress you’re wearing. His brain short circuits, and he’s malfunctioning.

“Shall we head inside?”

He’s not able to respond right away. You’re pretty, and he’s nervous, and you’re pretty, and his palms are sweating, and you’re pretty, and words are failing him, and you’re pretty, and you’re shifting your weight back and forth, and you’re so pretty.

“(Name).” Hyunjin’s finally able to say. “You look beautiful."

You look up at him and he looks away. You can only blush in response as you thank him, fiddling with the necklace you’re wearing.

“I’m wearing this by the way.” If Hyunjin thought he couldn’t smile even more, he was wrong, especially peering down at the necklace he had gifted you. The one you’re wearing.

It was nearly seven o'clock when you finished watching the movie. You’re still excited over seeing one of your favorite Disney princess’s on the big screen, but you’re starting to feel a little tired.

The crowded bus was too much for the both of you, so you decide to walk back together. Thirty minutes might sound like a long walk, but Hyunjin begs to differ if it meant being separated from you at the end of it.

Thirty minutes is way too short to walk with you.

“The movie was fun.” He breaks the silence, and you nod your head in agreement with a huge smile on your face. You can still picture Ariel in your head, yet what stuck out most to you was the panicked way Hyunjin had been when he first walked in before completely relaxing when he was seated next to you.

“Hyunjin.”

“Yes?”

“You seemed like you’ve never been to a theater before.”

“It is my first time.” He looks down at his feet, a small grin tugging on his lips at how he’ll forever be able to hold the memory of watching a movie for the first time in theaters.

Especially when it was with you.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s amazing.” It comes out as a whisper, genuinely shocked that Hyunjin hadn’t bothered coming into theaters at all. There’s so much to him, and you want to learn them all.

“Why don’t we kill some time by playing 21 questions?”

“Okay.” He replies a little too quickly for his liking. He can’t hide his eagerness at getting to know you and everything about you. Like that phone call last night.

“Okay.” You repeat, smiling while nodding your head as you think of a question to ask. “Hmm, what’s your favorite fruit?”

“Apples are my favorite.”

“Wow, you answered so quickly.” A quiet chuckle escapes his lips at the realization. Though, you should’ve made the connection when he had mentioned apples back when you had offered him some ice cream.

“Mine are strawberries!” You point excitedly at the black crochet bag you always carry with you, a big strawberry in the middle.

“Strawberries.” He keeps in mind, looking back at you as you keep talking, asking him one question after the other.

You are so lovely, Hyunjin thinks. The sort of person puts a smile on everyone’s face when you walk into the room. The way you quietly speak and the humble way in which you treat everyone has Hyunjin thinking that you must be unaware of how much of an impact you actually have on the people around you.

Seungmin is thankful for you, admiring your hard work. Hyunjin has caught him rereading the article you had written multiple times, praise leaving his lips when he thinks no one can hear.

Chan sees you as a little sister, so fond of you in such a short amount of time. He thinks he’d do anything to keep that smile on your face.

Felix thinks of flowers when he sees you.

“Oh, the moon looks so pretty tonight.” You suddenly mention, staring wondrously at the bright moon and the way the stars litter the sky.

“Do you wanna sit down for a moment?”

“Can we?” The excitement in your voice is hard to miss as Hyunjin guides you over to sit on a block situated at the side of the street. It’s the perfect spot, offering you a view of the sea and the pretty night sky.

You close your eyes to listen to the waves crashing clearer, to feel the breeze better, to smell the salty scent of the sea.

Your thoughts drift everywhere; to your escape from the city to the first time you met Hyunjin and the way he hadn’t spoken a single word to you. It’s always been at the back of your head, but you never so much as spared it any time to resurface. Though, now was probably the perfect time to ask him about it.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“Of course.”

“When we first met, why did you not talk to me?”

Hyunjin thinks back at the time, almost letting out a small laugh in embarrassment when he remembers the way he had greeted you with nothing but silence. It was only a matter of time before you’d ask him.

“Actually…” He looks down at his hands, carefully folded on his lap. “I have trouble talking to strangers.”

“Does that mean you feel comfortable around me now?” Oh, his stomach doesn’t feel so great at the way you’re looking at him right now. He has never felt such violent butterflies in his stomach.

“Yeah.” Blink and you miss it, the way his eyes flicker to your lips before frisking them away to stare at the moon instead.

You stretch your legs out, swaying them back and forth as you lull your head back to stare at the vastness of the sky. The waves and your subtle breathing are the only sounds that accompany the stillness with Hyunjin.

How long had that same peace transferred from the library to the boy seated beside you?

This moment feels nice, though, it seems to only be a catalyst at making you realize how real your feelings are. Hyunjin really is starting to feel like love.

He looks at you as you’re too busy staring at the little things nature had sent to keep you two company.

“When I’m with you, it’s nice that I don’t have to talk so much.” You say suddenly.

His eyes never once leave you as you speak, and it only has his heart beating faster when he realizes that the look in your eyes is something so similar to the way he looks at you. It’s the same one he gives you when you don’t notice him looking at you. The stripped back and bare softness he shows even when he doesn’t try to.

“It’s the opposite for me.” He speaks with a smile that he doesn’t even notice has grown brighter and brighter. “When I’m with you, I tend to talk more.”

Lovestruck is the only word to describe the way his words slip out of his mouth, and no level of words can possibly describe the softness in his eyes.

“Ever since I was young, talking to someone… always felt like a burden to me. It’s never felt that way with you.”

The way you’re looking at him only encourages him to speak more—your naturally dusted cheeks, gentleness swimming in your eyes, and the wind blowing through your hair. How can you sit there and be so unaware of how beautiful you are?

“This is a little selfish of me but…” Midway through his sentence, he breathes out a little. As if to help him in saying what’s burning on the tip of his tongue. “I hope you don’t leave.”

You lean forward to hear him better.

“When you first came to the library to make a membership card, when we spent the afternoon repairing books, when I took you home when you were completely wasted… when we had ice cream together on the library bench, when we went to interview the old lady together, and when you let me meet Kkami the night we had dinner together…”

What was happiness before he knew what your smile looked like and what your voice sounds like? Hyunjin’s voice gradually softens with each memory he recounts.

“I was happy. I’m truly happy that you came to Angok.”

There's a stifling silence on the other end, as you process his words.

You never stood a chance. You were gone the moment you had set eyes on him, when you had accidentally caused a small commotion in Angok’s public library. You had signed over your heart the second he had uttered his first words to you—“you’re hello again.”

His eyes flicker from yours down to your lips, and there’s a hitch in your breath as you breathe in. It feels as though your heart could explode at any moment.

Hyunjin reaches out to brush a hand against your cheek, tentative as he draws himself closer to you. His hand is warm against the night breeze, and you find yourself leaning against him unconsciously.

“So I really hope you don’t leave.” He whispers, and you breathe at the overwhelming sincerity.

His eyes drop back down to your lips, face hovering over yours. Almost hesitant. It’s like he’s waiting for you to make a move, waiting for you to show you won’t leave. You push your lips in his, and he’s still for a second, as if unable to believe you’re kissing him at this very moment.

When he’s finally able to recover, he keeps a hand cupped on your cheek while the other travels around your waist. He holds you against him tightly, but his lips couldn’t be any more gentle as they move against yours. It’s soft, unmoving even. Your heart flutters when his lips chase after yours after you pull away for a second to catch your breath, and you’re kissing again.

Again and again and again until all you can think about is him. You had always been afraid of seeing the city in his eyes and feeling it in his lips, but you never did.

His eyes struggle to stay open when you push your foreheads together, finally breaking away from the kiss. There’s a small smile on his mouth, the one he always wears with you, and the look of fondness in his eyes.

“I’m not gonna leave.”

A shooting star spears through the dark. You both wish to stay like this forever.

thirteen.

A few days after your silent confession, Seungmin passes the Civil Licensure exam.

The boy had apparently been trying to hide his success from Hyunjin, yet was unsuccessful when he forgot he had given Hyunjin the log-in credentials to the site when he thought he’d be too nervous to view it himself.

So, you and Hyunjin plan a surprise celebration.

If Seungmin hadn’t been so caught up in trying to hide the secret you had already known about, maybe he would’ve noticed the way Hyunjin disappears from the library sometimes only to reappear, and the way you’ve been on your phone way more often than you normally are.

Getting Seungmin to the rooftop of Chan’s home was easier than you had expected. For someone who asks a lot of questions, Seungmin had simply stared at Hyunjin suspiciously when he had suddenly expressed the urge to watch the night’s constellations at Chan’s roof. Yet, feeling like he owed the boy for driving and staying with him in Seoul, he complies.

The surprise had taken a while to plan, yet everyone was willing to help after hearing the news. Everyone sits on the roof to wait, antsy when they hear Seungmin’s blabbermouth complain about accompanying Seungmin as he gets on the stairs. You all see Hyunjin first, who’s subtly pointing at his back to signal that Seungmin was coming in hot.

When he finally emerges from the steps, all of you jump in a chorus of “Surprise!”

There’s a small tarpaulin with Seungmin’s name and a congratulations tied between two makeshift posts, and the boy hides his face in embarrassment when he spots a poorly photoshopped picture of him on the side of the printed paper.

“It’s nice to celebrate this good news with everyone.” Hyunjin says, and while Seungmin’s continuing to blabber about in mock irritation, all of you know he’s grateful by the way he looks at how the rooftop is decorated in awe. Fairy lights are hung around like additional stars, and everyone has bright smiles on their faces as they all go in to wish the boy their individual congratulations.

“Congratulations on making it to Seoul!” Chan’s voice is booming as he hugs the boy. While Seungmin naturally recoils from any form of skinship, he finds himself returning most of the hugs given to him.

“Make sure you eat a lot.” Minho smiles as he looks proudly at the food he had brought, all set on the table as he prepares to cook some beef to serve as all of you eat.

“Thank you for the food!”

“Is it good?” Minho’s grilling meat on the side, continuing to prepare food as everyone around him eats satisfyingly. Sometimes, Jeongin would get up from his seat to feed Minho a piece to make sure he was eating too.

“It’s so juicy.” Changbin exclaims in pure ecstasy, and Chan can only laugh at his exaggerated response. “Your beef always tastes good, Minho.”

Jeongin’s walking around with a platter of cooked beef to serve for everyone, like he does at Minho’s restaurant. Lovely chatter echoes from the roof, laughter prominent as Jisung is on fire with his jokes. All the while, Seungmin is roasting the poor boy.

“This is the good stuff. Look at the marbling on this meat.” Minho boasts as he sets down the final platter on the table, taking a seat next to Jisung as he finally starts digging in. “Jeongin, come and eat.”

“This is so good.” Your mouth drops after you swallow the piece of beef you had grabbed. Minho just laughs fondly at the praise as he keeps eating.

As your eyes travel around everyone on the table, you can’t help but think of something your mom used to tell you — a home isn't always the house we live in. it's also in the people we choose to surround ourselves with.

Home is the gleeful playing of instruments from Jisung and Changbin, it’s baked in an oven and served fresh as brownies from Felix, it’s grateful smiles from Seungmin, it’s Chan trampled with fondness, it’s the grilled beef Minho is cooking, it’s Kkami barking in happiness as Jeongin plays with him, it’s the hand holding yours and the gentle smile on Hyunjin’s lips as he urges you to eat more.

“Oh, before I forget. I have something for you.” Said boy brings you back to reality, and he pulls out a magazine in his hand, smiling widely as he looks down at it then at you expectantly.

“What is it?” You take it from him, flipping through the pages.

“Youth of Angok. It was released yesterday.”

“No way!” You look for the article you wrote, skimming through the pages before smiling at the photo of the old lady you had taken. “Wait, hold on. Don’t tell me you read it already.”

“No, I haven’t read it yet.” Hyunjin has a fair share of tells when he lies. One of them is in the way he can’t look at you, like the way he’s avoiding your eyes right now. “It was great by the way. You write so well.”

You laugh, giggles blending with Jisung’s music. “Thank you.”

Changbin’s booming voice interrupts all the ongoing conversations, abruptly getting up as he grabs a box he had hidden to the side. “I have a surprise now that we’re all full. Sponsored by Seo’s convenience store, you’re welcome.”

He hands each one of you with sparklers, and it’s absolutely beautiful when he lights them up and pushes everyone to get up and dance to Jisung’s guitar accompaniment as the fireworks glow from everyone’s hold. Like everyone is capable of holding fire in their hands.

Music from your childhood plays in your head, the same one you never thought you’d hear again as Hyunjin tugs on your hand to pull you to where everyone is dancing, a sparkler on the hand that isn’t intertwined together.

“This is so pretty!” Felix exclaims, waving it around as the lights spring out of the stick in his hand. Jeongin’s carrying Kkami now, dancing with him in his arms.

“I’ve never done this before.” Felix looks to you with so much happiness radiating off of him, dancing around as he stares at his sparkler fireworks.

“Me neither.” You reply with the same excitement, looking to see Hyunjin already looking at you with a smile on his face. Pure, unadulterated happiness.

You thought about what happiness is.

You’ve looked it up in a dictionary once—it is a state of being pleased, fulfilled, and content in life. You think that definition is too long.

Happiness. The state of being sufficient.

Happiness. This moment right now.

Hyunjin’s arm snakes around you, pulling you closer to him as the wind flows between all of you, whisking your hair and ruffling your clothes up as happy singing falls in your ears.

“Hi.” He whispers, caressing your waist. It makes goosebumps erupt, and you know what he’s about to do as he presses a short kiss on your lips.

Sometimes, there doesn’t have to be thunderstorms. There’s no need for the sticky swarm of office workers, or the silence of dinners. You don’t have to think of the city. Sometimes, love is tucked away in a little town you least expect to find it. Sometimes, there is time to make happiness. And sometimes, family can be regained.

Your life is sufficient.

You’ll live this life.

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Gwi-nam (4/4)

Word count; 4.3k

Gwi-nam’s entire body cracked and his mouth was agape. He once again swung himself into a seated position, head foggy and body numb. Slowly, he rose, and although his bones popped, there was no bodily shock to accompany it. He let out a groan as his arm regained its proper angle.

Gwi-nam walked over to a faucet and gulped greedily before he splashed it on his face. The water turned red and a cloud of red flakes accompanied it. But then he suddenly heard something from beyond the faucet — human breathing.

His head veered toward the noise, and he left the water spraying. Gwi-nam walked over to a crashed vehicle and leaned down. Underneath the car, trembling and frightened, was Son Myeong-hwan. The student jumped back, frightened by the sudden appearance of his classmate.

“You moron. You scared me,” he hissed. “Come in here. What are you waiting for? Move your ass! Hurry up!”

Gwi-nam, lost in thought, finally complied. In his head, it would be nice to gather some information if the asshole had any.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” Gwi-nam stuttered.

“Where were you?”

“Me?”

“Obviously you. What happened to your eye?”

Gwi-nam, his mind foggy, clasped at his eye. His hatred for Cheong-san came flooding back and a sense of despair that R kept finding a way to escape him.

“Stop spacing out, asshole!” Myeong-hwan whispered, slapping Gwi-nam’s head. He sent a glare, but Myeong-hwan didn’t notice. “Hey, listen carefully. Do you see that car? Run to it.”

Gwi-nam watched, unamused. “Why should I?”

“Just shut up and run if I say so.”

“You want me to lure the zombies?” Gwi-nam grumbled.

“Yes. You go that way and lure the zombies. I’ll go that way and scream. And then we can run to the snack shop while the zombies are confused. Got it?”

“I’ll be going away from the snack shop.”

“That’s why you should run like hell and circle around. Now, go. Get running.”

Gwi-nam scoffed. “I don’t want to. It’s a waste of time.”

“You chicken shit. Get out. Go.”

Myeong-hwan pushed, which was what finally set Gwi-nam off.

“I’m not a chicken anymore. I’m not your gopher anymore either.”

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

As Gwi-nam crawled out, a smirk grew on his face. He leaned back down, grabbing Myeong-hwan and forcing him out from under the truck. As Gwi-nam lifted him, he twisted his wrist painfully, forcing Myeong-hwan to cry out in pain.

Gwi-nam chuckled cruelly, shushing Myeong-hwan. “Quiet. The zombies will come.”

He covered his mouth with his hand, tears sliding down his cheek.

“Watch carefully. Look.” Myeong-hwan recognized that the zombies didn’t care about Gwi-nam, and it frightened him. “I’m above you now, got that?”

Myeong-hwan nodded instantly, eyes pleading desperately.

“You moron. You chicken shit. Tell me where R is and beg for your life.”

Zombies had crowded around but were interested only in Myeong-hwan. Gwi-nam pushed any nearby zombies away. Gwi-nam sighed, already impatient from Myeong-hwan’s silence.

“Go on.”

“S - save me. Please. I don’t know where R is — I can help —“

“You’re useless to me,” Gwi-nam snickered. “And I don’t want to.”

“Gwi-nam suddenly twisted the wrist completely with inhuman strength. Myeong-hwan shouted in pain as blood came spurting from the wound. His arm bone popped out from the skin and zombies devoured Myeong-hwan as he screamed in agony.

Gwi-nam left the man to rot, meandering over to the truck mirror. He looked at the damage Cheong-san had left, which exceeded far more than taking his eye. He felt R’s hair tie in his pocket, squeezing it between his fingers.

She had been right there for the taking. He hadn’t been thinking. He should have finished them both off before focusing on R. He thought back to the sweet taste of Nam-ra’s flesh in his mouth, regretting having spit it out.

He took a bite out of Myeong-hwan’s ankle before walking away, recalling the image of the whiteboard in his head. The roof, the music room, or the stairs. That was where he could find them all.

And, as predicted, as he strolled down the school hallways, he heard it: R’s voice, echoing in the hallways. It was melodic, even with how cracked and broken it was.

“Come here, you zombie bastards!”

Gwi-nam took off running. 

~~~

At the top of the rooftop steps. Cheoong-san was desperate to force his way through the door. The zombies had lost them for now, but because the door was locked, R knew it wouldn’t before long until zombies found them.

“It’s locked,” Cheong-san mewled.

Dae-su, shocked, moved Cheong-san aside and began ramming into the door desperately. It clattered and rumbled with the impact, and R’s heart began to race. Zombies were coming. Everyone paused what they were doing, panting.

“They’re here,” Nam-ra stated.

And then, as R watched from over the balcony, they arrived. Su-hyeok and Cheong-san were standing guard, but R knew that soon, more would arrive. R glanced around, recognizing a rolled-up, blue tarp.

“Girls! Help me with this!” R ordered, pulling the tarp.

The students grabbed, and as Su-hyeok and Cheong-san stumbled back, the tarp covered the monsters. Su-hyeok kicked at one figure before both men charged and pushed back at the tarp. The tar was held from the top, but R relinquished her hold and dashed down the steps. She grabbed it from the side desperately, pushing with her entire body weight against the hoard.

R was so focused on pushing back that she didn’t notice Gwi-nam walking up the steps calmly. The man paused, amused at how hard R was trying to hold the zombies back. Gwi-nam recognized the breathing of seven other people, and a grin grew on his face.

“Out of my way,” he grumbled, shoving and pushing at the manic monsters in irritation. 

He lifted one by the neck, somehow making the zombie seem like the victim in the situation. He glanced at the flapping blue tarp.

R screeched, being shoved back into the wall suddenly. The zombies had opened the curtain halfway, and a zombie almost grabbed her. However, Cheong-san used his camera stick to hit the zombie away, sending him back over the railing. 

R panted, frozen for a brief moment. Until she noticed a floating zombie had entered the scene.

R screamed instantly, recognizing Gwi-nam as the perpetrator. He was holding a squirming zombie by the neck, slowly stepping up past the tarp. Gwi-nam pushed more zombies back and out of the way. He fashioned a deadly glare at Cheong-san especially.

A sadistic grin spread on Gwi-nam’s face. He could hear the terror in Cheong-san’s breath. The pair maintained a steady eye contact.

Su-hyeok and Cheong-san pulled R back up the stairs further, just barely before a zombie charged at the spot she stood before. Gwi-nam dropped the zombie over the railing. His teeth were stained with blood.

“Shit!” Cheong-san bellowed, hitting Gwi-nam with a metal rod. Gwi-nam just stood there, not emoting the slightest. He stood just beyond the other rail. When Cheong-san went to hit him a second time, Gwi-nam grabbed the rod and pulled Cheong-san close.

“Give me your eye,” he seethed.

Gwi-nam put his thumb to Cheong-san’s eye, but then Nam-ra’s hand wrapped around Gwi-nam’s neck, holding him high. Gwi-nam scrambled to be free. R took the chance to pull Cheng-san away and hoard the rest of the students up to the top, grabbing the metal rail for herself. While Nam-ra held Gwi-nam, she slammed the rod against the side of his head, and Nam’ra let him fall.

“What the fuck!” Gwi-nam hissed.

“Why didn’t you die?” Nam-ra inquired calmly as Gwi-nam scrambled back to his feet.

She didn’t get an answer, as R motioned for everyone to get to the roof. Somehow, Dae-su tried the door and the roof opened painlessly. Nobody questioned it, filing out to escape the zombies. 

R was the last. She went for the handle, her vision blurring with adrenaline. She clasped it tightly, feeling hands on her shirt and pulling her to shut it. Just as the door was about to slam shut, two hands stuck into the doorway.

R shrieked as her wrist was grabbed, pulling her back into the hoard. When she saw it was Gwi-nam, she was more frightened than she would have been if it was a zombie. Tears streamed down her cheeks as a tug of war ensued. Gwi-nam pulled hard, but Nam-ra pulled just as hard.

“Fuck! Just give her to me!” Gwi-nam roared furiously. 

A box went flying at Gwi-nam’s head, and he stumbled back. R went flying back into Nam-ra’s chest as Cheong-san circled and pulled the doors shut, locking it. R’s legs were trembling, the germs from Gwi-nam seeming to pollute her skin. She let out a gargle and On-jo helped her plop on the ground. 

R cradled into a ball and sobbed, but she did not block out the warm hugs her students were giving her. She heard Gwi-nam’s crazed, consistent pounding at the door as Su-hyeok, Dae-su, and Cheong-san stood guard with weapons just in case.

The pounding went silent for a moment. Cheong-San approached, pressing his ear against the door. A sudden punch came once again, and R squealed. The doors kept squealing from the force. And as one final punch came, it was accompanied by a blood-curdling squelch.

“Fuck,” Gwi-nam mumbled, having left a deep indent in the door. As angry as he was, he knew another approach had to be taken. 

“You are all dead. Do you hear me? Dead!” he spat venomously before walking away.

“He’s gone,” Nam-ra finally muttered. 

Everyone was mentally recuperating from the eventful experience. Cheong-san went and sat next to R, who was sitting normally, although her head still hung. R felt dissociated, even when Cheong-san’s arm went around her shoulder.

“Hey, Ms. R, why does he want to kill you so badly?” Dae-su suddenly spoke up, only to be punched in the arm by Su-hyeok. Dae-su cursed but went silent. Somehow, despite the zombie girl in their midst, all of the attention was on R, hoping to receive an answer.

“He… Gwi-nam… doesn’t want to kill me,” R muttered, to which everyone except Cheong-san looked surprised.

“B - but you’re the reason he’s chasing after us in the first place!” Ji-min accused.

R buried her head in her hands, the words hitting harder from one of the students she was trying to be there for. A cacophony of insults was spewed Ji-min’s way, who retreated from the group. Once harmony was restored, it was Su-hyeok who spoke up.

“So then… what does he want with you?”

As Gwi-nam stood, wrist clicking back into place, he eyed the window. It had grown dark outside in the time it took for his body to return to tip-top shape — minus for the eye. He clicked his tongue and perused the hallways, contemplating how to get to the roof. Perhaps there was a ladder. Or —

He suddenly heard a door open from down the hall. Gwi-nam went in that direction and entered the music classroom, slamming the door behind him. A girl in a pink shirt stumbled away in terror.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Lee Na-yeon, who had only then plucked up the courage to try and escape, relaxed slightly. The man was somewhat familiar, but she still hardly trusted her blood-covered classmate.

“What are you doing here?” Na-yeon retorted, continuing to walk backward as Gwi-nam approached.

“Me? I have to get to the rooftop, but the door’s locked.” He paused a few feet away, motioning to the window. “So I’m going to go that way.”

“You’re not a zombie, right?”

“Zombie? Fuck that,” Gwi-nam span angrily. “Is that food? Are you hungry?”

Na-yeon nodded. A cruel smile grew on Gwi-nam’s face. He grabbed the girl and immediately bit into her neck. Na-yeon kicked and screamed silently, but it was to no avail. Gwi-nam consumed the flesh around her neck, leaving only the bare bone of the girl. Blood had pooled onto the floor, dousing the bag.

Gwi-nam tossed the girl away, staring at the bag. He hummed before grabbing and sliding it to his elbow. “R must be hungry,” he mumbled. Not even a moment later, he slid the window open and began to climb.

~~~

“I just want water,” Cheong-san proclaimed.

“Not things like that,” was the immediate reply. “Be completely honest.”

“Yes! Completely honest. Do you like someone?” Dae-su agreed.

All attention turned to him, and R even chuckled. Although she was only two or three years older than her students, there was something cathartic and nostalgic about high school gossip. It was something normal — not about Gwi-nam’s reign of terror, an escape plan, or mourning. Just a goofy topic about crushes.

It took a minute, but Cheong-san nodded.

“Really? You do?” On-jo replied excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Why are you stalling? Is it a crush?”

“Pretty much.”

“Pretty much? What does that mean? Who is she? Do I know her?”

“Yes.”

“Stop stalling,” Dae-su whined. “You’re just embarrassed to admit that it’s on Ms. R!”

“Eh?” R spoke up in surprise. “You moron, as if.”

“Yes.”

The admittance by Cheong-san halted all conversation, and R was utterly bewildered. She could hardly blame the kid, though. She’d already received many love-struck notes on her desk from abashed and unnamed students. She wondered if one of them had been from Cheong-san.

“It’s not like it matters! Half of the school does!” Cheong-san defended, a deep blush burned into his cheeks.

“So? It’s still embarrassing to admit!” Dae-su cackled. 

R Sighed, shaking her head. “Leave him be. It’s normal to have a crush on a teacher.”

“T - teacher’s assistant,” Cheong-san specified. “You’re almost the same age as us anyway. It’s not as weird as Ji-min’s crush on old man Joon.”

“Hey! That’s not important!” she defended furiously.

Cackles broke out. R was inhaling all of the smoke, so she stood up and went over to the rail. She watched out at the distant Hyosan fires and the soccer field flooded with zombie students. However, when one didn’t look down, the sky was beautiful. The moon was cascaded with clouds and it seemed as though it might rain. It would be a blessing if it did — to wash away all of the germs…

A bloody hand suddenly swung over the edge. R screamed, recognizing Gwi-nam instantly. His mouth was stained red. Gwi-nam sent a toothy grin at R, eyes wrinkling with glee. Not even a moment later, he jumped over and onto the roof with ease. A few items plopped out from a bag he was holding. Cans. 

R could hardly focus, gasping and pushing herself back against the wall. Her hands paled as Gwi-nam approached. He let the bag fall onto the ground. He grabbed R, eyeing her up and down.

“Ms. R!” Su-hyeok shouted. 

Gwi-nam’s attention went toward the group. Cheong-san was quick to his feet, running at the man. However, when their bodies collided, Cheong-san was pushed to the ground and Gwi-nam instantly began choking him, a finger hovering over his eye.

“Give me your eye, asshole.”

Cheong-san let out cries of pain, and R began running over to the scene. She grabbed onto Gwi-nam’s arm, tugging and squealing. Gwi-nam clicked his tongue, and with one shove, R was sent flying back onto the ground. It stalled enough for Su-hyeok to kick Gwi-nam off the poor boy.

A fight ensued between the pair. Gwi-nam sent crazed, uncalculated punches. But when Su-hyeok went to tackle, Gwi-nam was so firmly rooted he did not move. Instead, he hit Su-hyeok’s back and sent him to the ground. With one swift kick, Su-hyeok went flying across the roof, tumbling into a stack of metal chairs.

Gwi-nam hummed, sweeping his gaze over the crowd. 

R pleaded,“ Gwi-nam, please —“

With one quick snatch, Gwi-nam grabbed R and pulled her to him. His arms tightened around her suffocatingly, and as much as R squirmed, it did nothing to Gwi-nam. He rubbed his cheek against her tussled hair, leaving a prominent red streak. He placed a chaste kiss on the side of his head before lifting his gaze back to the others.

“Who are all of you?” Gwi-nam questioned.

“What about you?” Dae-su shot back. “Are you from the one-heart club?”

“It’s me. Me… How the hell don’t you all know me?”

“I do,” Cheong-san spoke up. “I’ll say it again and again. You were the bullies’ gopher and a stalker.”

Gwi-nam lashed out, veering his head forward and holding R so tightly she thought her ribs would crack.

“Call me that again, and you’re dead.”

“You were never a thug or a good student. And now you’re not a zombie or a human. Then, and now… You’re nothing.”

Gwi-nam nodded slowly. “You’ve been interfering far too long. I’ve been so forgiving with you, Cheong-san, and all of the troubles you’ve giving me. Time and time again, I have to hunt down R. So I’m not just going to kill you. I’ll gouge out both of your eyes and throw you to the zombies. And then I’ll kill the rest of you for helping him.”

Nobody moved. The atmosphere was tense. R had stopped wiggling. Gwi-nam’s breath hovered over her ear. “You sit tight and watch. I brought you snacks.”

R suddenly slammed her head back into his jaw. The movement caught him off guard and his grip loosened, enough for her to duck and run away. Gwi-nam’s bones cracked back into place, and he watched her crawl away. He turned his attention back toward Cheong-san. Cheong-san helped R up to her feet, hiding her behind him. R clung to Cheong-san’s arm, looking over his shoulder at Gwi-nam. Despite being shaken to their cores, Cheong-san and Dae-su stood guard, and R couldn’t have been more grateful. She felt filthy.

A sneer flashed across Gwi-nam’s expression. “How dare you touch her, you piece of shit. You’re all dead.”

Gwi-nam darted toward Cheong-san, who did the same in return. The other classmates helped Cheong-san the best they could, but with one full swing and kick, everyone was sent back, leaving only Cheong-san. Cheong-san was punched to the ground, and not even a moment later, Gwi-nam’s foot sent him flying back to the ground.

Su-hyeok came from behind with a wooden chair. It cracked against Gwi-nam’s back, causing him to stumble ever so slightly. When Su-hyeok swung a second time, Gwi-nam’s hand latched around his throat, choking him in the air. Su-hyeok kicked Gwi-nam’s stomach, but instead of tumbling back like a normal human, his feet rooted as his back cracked loudly. Gwi-nam twisted back into a standing position. Su-hyeok sent a punch in Gwi-nam’s direction.

Nam-ra suddenly burst into action, hitting Gwi-nam with flaming wood. And yet, Gwi-nam threw her to the ground. R was but a few feet away, paralyzed. “Gwi-nam, I’ll go with you. Please. Just stop —“

Gwi-nam paused in front of her. R squealed as her collar was grabbed. She was lifted from the ground, and her hands grasped the front of his jacket. Gwi-nam grinned, and R wondered if he finally had enough. She shut her eyes, anticipating a bite in the neck from the monster.

And yet, instead, chapped lips pressed against hers. It was surprisingly gentle. Her breath was struggling nonetheless, and her eyes shot open. She grabbed at his hand. Gwi-nam barely seemed to notice. She found the strength to suddenly kick his groin, and she plopped onto the ground. All of a sudden, Gwi-nam was grabbed and lifted. With a superhuman ability, Nam-ra tossed Gwi-nam off the side of the roof. Despite the aches and pains, R and the class went to the side of the roof and watched as Gwi-nam’s body silently tumbled over the edge.

R stumbled over to the bag. “Hey. He brought us food and drinks.”

~~~

Gwi-nam’s body twitched and he plopped onto his chest. “Damn it. I keep getting distracted.”

He pushed and began hopping along, although an arm and a leg were broken.

The next morning, it was agreed that they would slink out in the dead of night. The group raced out the front entrance. The rain poured as they filed behind the trees and bushes, straying from the path. R was grateful for the rain showers previously to clean herself off, but she had become cold due to anemia. The thunder roared. The group filed in line with R in the back behind Mi-jin. As they escaped from the shrubbery, they moved to a truck that had crashed into the cafeteria.

Dae-su jumped to the front, tapping Cheong-san’s back. “Hey, I’ll go first.”

As Dae-su went, Cheong-san seemed stunned. He rose to his feet, despite On-jo’s prodding. Cheong-san was stunned by his zombie mother. R had only met the woman once during a PTO meeting, but she was filled with deep sorrow for the boy.

Dae-su suddenly pulled out onto the other side, surprised by the zombie's appearance. He began beating the zombie, and R was quick to withhold Cheong-san and his fury. He was not in the right state of mind.

Chaos broke loose between trying to hold Cheong-san back, the shrieks of frightened students, and the zombies appearing on the horizon. Zombies were dashing up the hill toward us by the time Cheong-san got a hold of himself.

However, R recognized that everyone had to keep going. R was a straggler in the back, cursing her lack of youth and athletic abilities. But when she heard a girl tumble, crying out,” Ji-min — help me!” She was forced to skid to a halt. A zombie was running toward the fallen girl at full speed, and Ji-min was frozen in fear. R saddled up beside her, pulling the poor girl up. Ji-min took off on a diverted path, and R, seeing none of the others in sight, was forced to follow.

R let out a gurgled screech, rain pouring into her eyes. She couldn’t tell if she’d prefer a fate stuck with Gwi-nam or a quick yet deadly fate to the zombies, but her brain was so fried that all she could think about was running.

The zombie was suddenly upon them — R tumbled to the ground, leaving her student to the most gruesome of fates. Ji-min was far ahead, not even sparing a glance. R had no reason to judge her survival instincts but couldn’t help but scorn the girl for leaving two people behind. R clambered to her feet. Adrenaline is pumping through her veins.

However, Ji-min came to a screeching halt. Zombies were coming from the front, too. R  gasped as the girl tumbled into a puddle of mud, the zombies avoiding R if only to tumble in after her. R was seized with terror, grief washing over her. Ji-min was a goner, but she didn’t have to be. 

R turned, only to crash into a heavy chest. A scream escaped her lungs, and she lost her footing and tumbled into the mud pool. Mud filled her lungs, and she coughed and emerged. A hand grabbed her roughly just as another hand grasped at her leg. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, but as a zombie went to chomp into her, the hand grabbed it and lifted it up with ease. R was startled, but her brain connected the dots: Gwi-nam had shown up again as the horrifying hero.

Gwi-nam, eyes glaring into the zombie’s soul or lack thereof, grabbed its jaw and twisted its head to the side. R screeched and clambered out, but not in time for the other zombie to grab her ankle and tug. 

Gwi-nam tossed the zombie’s corpse away, roughly launching R off the ground and tossing her into a tree. R’s back made an unsatisfying crack, frozen in place as Gwi-nam finished off the other zombie. R’s hand twitched, and she pulled her legs to her chest. All she could concern herself with was the well-being of her other students. The direction they were going was toward the tennis court and construction site.

R finally stumbled to her feet just as Gwi-nam made an eerily slow turn toward her. R pressed herself against the tree as Gwi-nam stalked forward, clenching his fists. R shrieked as he grabbed her mud-soaked hair and tilted her head upwards. Tears pricked at her eyes. “G - Gwi-nam…”

The anger didn’t dissipate, although there was a sinister glint in his eyes. “Eh? What do you have to say for yourself? You could’ve made this so much easier —“

“I just want to go home. Please. I don’t care what you do with me, you monster. I’m hungry, thirsty, tired, and scared. I don’t care anymore…”

With that, the tears started streaming. Gwi-nam looked surprised, relinquishing his hold on her hair. His arms fell to his side as he suspiciously analyzed the sobbing girl. But he came to the same conclusion she did — that everything was hopeless and that she had given up.

Gwi-nam’s dead heart skipped a beat as he watched her cry. All he could think about was that she was finally all his. He grabbed her chin, causing her to choke. With one swift dip of his face, he pushed his lips against hers and pressed her against the tree. Gwi-nam could taste the blood — and it did nothing short of arousing him.

R had gone numb until she felt his… thing… against her. She was afraid. Afraid that, even in the zombie apocalypse, she was doomed to a rinse and repeat of her last ‘relationship.’ And just like that, she dissociated. She was taken back to him. The assault. The pregnancy. The escape. R was tired. So very tired.

Gwi-nam finally pulled away, almost bashfully. R stared at him blankly. He couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll take you home, I fucking guess. But only if you do something for me first.”

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox (2)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: bullying, mention of sexual abuse, trauma ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist. Songs used in this chapter: Turn Your Back on me & The Lion's Mouth by Kajagoogoo and Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night she slept very badly. Her parents asked why she had come back so early and if she had enjoyed herself. She burst out crying, unaccustomed to lying, and told them what had happened.

Her father was furious, stormed out of the house and made her show him which boy had nagged and touched her. She begged him to let it go, Cregan had been away from the party for a long time, they had gone somewhere with friends.

Her father said he wouldn't leave it like that and demanded to speak to Aemond. The next morning she appeared, accompanied by her father, at their house, embarrassed, her father explaining what had happened. Their mother was shocked by what she had heard.

She, her father, Alicent, Aegon, Aemond and Helaena sat down in the living room to talk about it.

"What? God, I swear, Mum, I didn't know Cregan would do something like that!" Mumbled Aegon, shocked at what had happened, Helaena was distraught and sat beside her, stroking her hand. Aemond looked at her, some kind of understanding in his eyes.

He felt that she had done the right thing telling her parents about it.

"Aemond, my daughter told me that you stopped him and stood up for her. I am very grateful to you and I want to ask you, if his parents insisted that it was word against word, will you be able to confirm what she said?" Her father asked, and he nodded without hesitation, tightening his lips.

"Yes. It was exactly as she said. I heard him tell his mates at school during break that he was planning to fuck her here at the party." He said in shame, lowering his gaze, his mother shaking her head in disbelief, slapping her hands on her thighs in a gesture of helplessness and rage.

"And you kept silent?" She asked with disappointment and pain. He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard, overwhelmed apparently by remorse.

She felt her stomach tighten at the thought that he really hadn't meant to stop then, that he could have done something much worse to her.

Aemond lifted a gaze full of pain and shame at her.

"I-I thought he was just bragging to his mates and... I don't know, that you're into each other. That maybe you want this too. That he's actually a good guy and wouldn't do anything to you against your will. But when I saw your face when he started touching your thigh on the couch, that look of discomfort, I…" He said in a slightly trembling voice and paused, looking her straight in the eye.

She swallowed hard, understanding what he wanted to say.

He didn't expect it from him either.

She nodded, feeling warm in her heart nonetheless at the thought that he had followed them out to see if anything would happen to her.

If he would hurt her.

She covered her face with her hand, her father put his arm around her and stroked her tenderly.

"It's good that you spoke about it, sweetheart. You can't leave it like that." Alicent said, nodding her head. Suddenly she clapped her hands as if she remembered something.

"The cameras! Our security company keeps footage for 48 hours. We also have one in the garden in case of a break-in, why don't I call them and ask them to send us the video from yesterday? We'll check if we can see anything on it." She suggested, her father said it was an excellent idea.

She lowered her head, terrified that her father and others would be able to see it, that perhaps on the video it wouldn't look like sexual assault at all.

After all, she had hugged him herself.

They waited impatiently by Alicent's laptop, sitting down and glancing at her inbox, the security company employee who was in charge of her equipment said he would try to send her the footage within fifteen minutes.

They all flinched and moved closer as a new message appeared with a video file. She swallowed loudly, terrified, ashamed, feeling a tightening in her stomach and throat, afraid that it didn't look at all like she said it did, that everyone would think she was lying, that they would never believe her again.

She felt herself shaking, her knee moving up and down in an involuntary tic. She shuddered when she heard someone put a chair next to her, Aemond sat down touching her with his knees and shoulders, placing his elbows on the table, leaning over the monitor.

"It was about ten o'clock at night, Mum. I remember because by the time I left the clock was striking the hour in the living room." He said lowly, and Alicent quickly ran the cursor to that hour and turned on the accelerator a few times.

"Oh okay, mum, it's them, I can see Cregan!" Said Aegon, leaning between them, turning off the acceleration. Alicent pressed the spacebar, stopping the video.

"Do you want everyone to watch this?" She asked her quietly. She looked around and thought, in essence, that she recognised that these were people she trusted, who she hoped cared about her.

She nodded, swallowing hard.

Alicent pressed play.

The camera was up high and part of the bench was obscured by the canopy, their faces not visible. She saw them sit down, saw his arm around her, stroking her hand for a moment. She felt a cold sweat on her back as she saw his fingers lift higher and higher, heard Aegon and his mother draw in a loud breath as his hand slid under her dress.

Her father covered his mouth, heartbroken when he saw her hand immediately clamp down on his wrist in a clear gesture of defence, her whole body tense, it was obvious she was trying to pull away, to push back, to escape, and instead of letting her go he pressed her tighter against him.

She felt tears under her eyelids and lowered her head, not knowing where to look, she felt Aemond press his body closer to hers, felt his breath on the top of her head, felt him looking at her.

"− Jesus −" Muttered Aegon in disbelief, running a hand over his face. "− fucking piece of shit −"

Then they could already see Cregan and Aemond struggling with each other, her sitting down on the grass and crying, Aemond crouching down beside her and putting his arms around her, saying something to her.

The footage had no sound, but what could be seen on it was enough to clearly understand what had happened.

Her father got up and said he needed to get some air for a while and smoke a cigarette. Alicent followed him out, apparently wanting to work out what they were going to do, whether to report it to the police or not.

She felt Helaena's warm embrace, felt her lay her head on her shoulder and hugged her immediately, Aegon and Aemond looked at them in silence.

"− I'm sorry − fuck − if I had known, I would never have invited him! − I saw you two cuddling on the couch in the living room, but God, I thought you two were just in love − that, I don't know, you're together, just unofficially yet −" He mumbled, and she swallowed loudly, rubbing her eyes, trying to pull herself together.

"− please, Aegon − it's not your fault − you didn't do anything wrong − don't worry, I won't tell anyone about the alcohol −" She said quietly, tiredly, and he sighed heavily, scratching his head, clearly distraught that something like this had happened at his own party.

Aemond said nothing, fiddling with his mug of already half-cold coffee, it seemed to her that he hadn't slept well that night either.

Her father had decided that they would drive with this recording to his parents.

She was horrified.

"I will go with you." Aemond said, and her father nodded.

They drove there together in their car with Alicent's laptop. They sat side by side in the back seat, she saw that he was pulling at the cuticles around his fingernails again, she noticed with pain that he had actual wounds around them.

When he saw in the reflection in the window that she was looking at him he stopped immediately and swallowed loudly, lowering his gaze.

He was stressed too.

When they arrived a surprised Mrs Stark opened the door for them, asking who they were and what had happened.

"I would like to talk to you about your son."

She, Aemond and her father sat on the couch on one side and Cregan and his parents on the other as her father played them the video. Cregan was pale, sitting with his arms folded, feigning indifference, his knee shaking restlessly, he was biting his lower lip, his eyes red.

He was terrified.

His mother made big eyes when she saw the moment he slipped his hand under her dress and looked at him with disbelief mixed with pain. His father snorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"And what, are you going to go to the police? Destroy a young boy's life because he made a mistake, because his hormones are raging?" He asked as if it was a trivial matter, a complete nothing. She felt the rage surge in her father.

"Because of your son's hormones, he can act like a mindless monkey and grope girls who don't want him to?" He hissed, his father raising his eyebrows, pointing at her with his hand.

"Please, forgive me, but from what I can see in this video your daughter was pushing herself into his arms, after all he could have misunderstood her…"

"Mark." Said his wife, clearly not believing what she was hearing, pale.

Her father stood up, pointing his finger at her.

"My child came home crying because someone molested her. He only stopped because her classmate went out into the garden. And what would your son do if no one helped her, hm? How long would he hold her while she tried to break free?" He thundered furiously on the verge of tears, she had never seen him like this before.

She just sat on the couch, looking at her shoes, shaking all over, feeling that her biggest nightmare had just taken place in front of her eyes.

Please, forgive me, but from what I can see in this video your daughter was pushing herself into his arms.

Mr Stark raised his hands in a defensive gesture as if to show that his aim was not to argue or escalate the conflict.

"I admit, my son acted unwisely. He misread the girl's signals and behaved badly. We will be watching him more closely in this area. Is that all?" He asked, and her father closed the laptop with a loud slam and growled to them that they were leaving.

She stood up and cast one last look in Cregan's direction, he was looking at her with a hatred she had never seen in her life before.

She burst into sobs as soon as they got into the car, her father comforting her loudly telling her not to cry, that they were driving to the police station.

"No, no, please, no!" She whimpered, leaning forward, grabbing his arm, her father looked at her in the mirror.

"What?"

"I can't do it, I can't do it anymore. I… stop, I think I'm going to throw up." She mumbled, her father stopped with a squeal of tyres. She got out and immediately vomited on the grass, coughing and crying, feeling her stomach convulse in pain.

She heard them both get out of the car, her father put his arms around her saying that everything would be fine, Aemond stood beside them not knowing what to do with himself, not knowing how to behave.

The next few days at school were extremely difficult for her. Some of her friends and acquaintances were shocked and horrified, giving her their complete support and understanding, saying they were disappointed by Cregan's behaviour.

However, others thought that she was simply lying.

"Attention whore." One of his friends growled, hitting her on the shoulder with his arm as he walked past her.

She saw that someone had scratched the word 'liar' on her locker standing in the corridor. She looked at it indifferently, then opened it as if nothing had happened and exchanged the books she needed with the ones she could put away.

This time he was the one looking at her.

She felt his gaze on her back in the classroom, in the corridor, as she sat at the bus stop looking at her shoes.

For some reason, even though she was alive and everything was going on, she felt dead.

She couldn't erase his touch from her mind.

She sat on the bus in total reverie, occupying the seat at the back by the window, sitting in her earphones, listening recently to nothing but Kajagoogoo songs, 'Too shy', 'Turn Your Back On Me', 'Ooh to Be Ah', 'The Lion's Mouth' looped on her player.

Their electronic sound and the wonderful bass guitar in the background energised her when she had no strength and couldn't rouse herself.

She had just listened to 'Turn Your Back On Me' for the second time since the morning when she felt someone sit down next to her.

She glanced to the side and spotted a black sweatshirt, familiar hands clicking something on his phone, apparently pausing the song he had just listened to on his player, she saw that it was 'Welcome to the Jungle' by Guns N' Roses. She pulled down one earpiece, looking at him in surprise.

"What are you listening to?" He asked, pulling on the cord of his black earphones, which dropped gently onto his lap with a quiet click.

She handed him her earphone, which he took from her, placing it in his left ear, moving a little closer to her so that there was enough cable for both of them. He mused, listening.

"Interesting." He muttered lowly, glancing at her player.

"Kajagoogoo." She said quietly, going into the track list so he could see what their songs were called.

"Nice bass." He admitted, as if surprised by this discovery himself. She nodded and closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, just sinking into the sound of the music.

He listened to the songs of her favourite band with her until they reached the school.

When the bus stopped he handed her back her earpiece, their hands touched. They looked at each other, for the first time so closely. He picked up his backpack and rose, trying not to hit his head on the low ceiling and walked out in front of her, no longer paying attention to her.

She walked through the corridor of her school listening to "The Lion's Mouth", trying not to pay attention to whether anyone was looking at her or not, focusing on the words of the song, staring blankly ahead.

Hey fool watch out! (Watch out) You'll get mauled by the lion's mouth -

Hey fool watch out! (Watch out) You'll get mauled by the lion's mouth (I don't think so) -

Hey fool watch out! (Watch out) You'll get mauled by the lion's mouth -

The music suddenly stopped when someone tripped her up. She wobbled and fell over, collapsing on the floor, her earphones falling out of her ears. She lifted herself up on her arms and turned over her shoulder, noticing Cregan's hateful stare.

A moment later, several things happened at the same time. Aemond who threw him to the floor, pounding his face with his fist, holding his sweatshirt, growling that he was a fucking piece of shit, a mere abuser, a nobody, a zero.

His colleagues and teachers had to separate them, Cregan spat blood on the floor.

She felt someone grab her shoulders, Helaena stood over her, looking at her in horror.

"Are you all right?"

She sat in her classroom terrified, glancing anxiously over her shoulder at the empty seat in the bench he sat in, knowing that he and Cregan had ended up at the headmaster's office.

That he was in trouble because of her, that he could be suspended because of her.

She shuddered when she heard the sound of the door opening and saw him step inside, the teacher paused his reasoning for a moment and grunted, returning to the subject of the lesson.

Aemond walked over to his bench without a word, not looking at her, and sat down in his chair, pulling off his backpack, taking out his textbooks and notebook, giving her one calm look.

She pulled her phone quickly from her sweatshirt pocket, reminding herself that she had his phone number, and quickly texted him.

She heard his phone vibrate on his bench. She sat looking ahead, feeling her heart pounding hard.

After a moment, the display of her phone lying on her thighs lit up and she saw that she had received a new message. She opened it quickly, feeling a tightness in her throat.

She turned towards him over her shoulder, his lips curving into a grin. She smiled gratefully at him and breathed quietly, turning ahead, trying to finally focus on what her teacher was talking about.

Boarding the bus after class, she dared to sit next to him. They looked at each other, he watched as she untangled her earphones and plugged them into her phone. She saw him pull his own off and pause his player.

"Are you going to listen to that band with weird name again?" He asked lowly and she nodded, smiling at him.

He held out his hand to her and she handed him her earpiece, this time with her left hand, turning on 'The Lion's Mouth'.

"This is my favourite." She admitted with a smile, feeling calm for some reason, her stomach filled with warmth.

"Mmm." He hummed, their elbows resting against each other lying on their armrest, however neither of them seemed to mind.

She understood then.

The Little Prince took a step towards the Fox of his free will.

She smiled under her breath.

He wanted her to tame him.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

[siampie]

Risk and Reward||Chapter 9: Like Real People Do

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Just fluffy moments between you and Matt.

Warnings/tags: lots of fluff and a hint of angst.

A/N: Sorry for the late update, life had been hectic lately. And also been dealing with some face pain due to a wisdom tooth. Commentaries and reblogs are greatly appreciated.     

Previous Chapter || Chapter List || Next chapter

Masterlist || join my taglist

Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie; @sunflowersandsapphires; @abbyhaslongshorts; @schneeflocky; @danzer8705;

@ebathory997; @sarraa-26; @cheshirecat484; @rebeccapineapple; @msjb2002

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

I had a thought, dear, however scary

About that night, the bugs and the dirt

Why were you digging? What did you bury

Before those hands pulled me from the earth?

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask and neither should you

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

The soft music filled your apartment while you hummed, swaying lightly, to the song. Enjoying one of those rare moments where you felt in the mood to cook a full meal for yourself. The pan singing as the freshly cut vegetables were frying in the hot oil. You added the broccoli to the stir-fry you were cooking, your eyes caught sight of the numerous drawings on your fridge. They had been made with love by your nieces and nephews. Your goddaughter, now 6, were also learning how to write now. So, of course, some of drawings were now accompanied with love notes.

“Je t’aime, Marraine.” (I love you, Godmother.)

The words were misspelled, and she still needed to get a grasp on grammar. But every time you read the words; you felt your heart swell with love. And the few times she came to visit you, she was proud to see her pictures on your fridge. And she and her siblings, and her cousin, drew more of those stick figure, knowing their arts would find room on your fridge and walls.

The shrill sound of your ringtone pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Ah, you’ve reached the procrastination hotline. Please hold…indefinitely.” You answered the call.

“How many of those do you have?” Your sister’s voice came from the other end of the line.

“As many as I need.” You shot back. “So, what’s up?”

“I need to vent,” she declared.

“About?”

“Our brother; Henry.” She dramatically sighed.  

“I’m listening,” you puffed out a long breath.

“So, you know how he decided to let mom have access to his kids,” she started. You hummed, “well, now, his in-laws are getting involved and asking me, why don’t I want mom anywhere near my boy?”

“How is that any of their concerns? It’s your kid, you get to decide who’s in his life or not. Why are they getting involved?” You asked quite angrily, you never liked your brother’s in-laws. They were quite nosy people, always wondering when you were going to have kids, while your own father just let you live your life at your own pace.

“Oh, that’s not even the best part,” Ann continued. “They think it would be beneficial for my son to meet his maternal grandmother. Can you believe that?”

“I can believe they haven’t been hit enough in their lives, that I can believe.” You replied, your sister chuckled. “No one cares what they think. Axel is your son, and you are his mother. If you don’t want our mother to meet him, it is your decision. And frankly, bad parents don’t get to be grandparents. So, I’d say don’t let her meet your little boy.”

“Thank you,” she exclaimed. “I thought I was going crazy over here.”

“You’re not, don’t worry,” you reassured her. “And I’m fairly certain, Dee would agree with me.” You killed the fire under the pan, “what did Henry say to that?”

“Nothing. As usual.” Ann scoffed, “Didn’t defend my decision or even tried to explain to them why I wouldn’t want that.”

“It doesn’t need explaining, they know our story. It’s quite understandable why you wouldn’t,” you leaned your elbows on your counter. “Do you want me to give him call?”

“No, it won’t be necessary,” she told you. “I just needed to know I wasn’t alone in this.”

“You’re not,” you assured her. “Just to let you know, if you do decide to let her see little Axel, I won’t be mad. I’ll support you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I know,” she sighed. “Would you?” she questioned you, “would you let her in?”

“No,” your answer was firm. “Never again. Do you want to let her in?”

“No,” Ann was a firm as you in her answer. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “Don’t let them get into your head. They’re not your in-laws, so, their opinions don’t really matter.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “So, whatcha doin’?”

“Cooking some stir-fry, and then some netflix and chill—or maybe some video games, haven’t decided yet.”

“Oh, come on!” Ann groaned, “It’s Friday night, you’re single. You should be out there having fun, meeting new people. Do this for me, let me live vicariously through you. Please!”

You huffed out a laugh. She had yet to know about Matthew. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share him with your family, you did. You wanted them to know about the new man in your life. You wanted them to share in your happiness. However, you were just very protective of your relationship with Matt. You wanted to keep him for yourself a little while longer.

But this was your sister. Your first ever best friend. It didn’t seem fair to hide it from her. Not when she came to you first, after she had said yes to her, then, fiancé.

“Well,” you started, “it’s been a very long week. And I didn’t feel like socializing tonight.”

“Typical,” Ann snorted.

There was a knock on your door. “And who said I was single?” Your feet made no sound as you quietly walked towards your door.

“You have a boyfriend!” She squealed, “tell me everything.”

You shook your head while pulling your door open, revealing Matt on the other side.

His tie was loose and crooked around his neck, his dark and soft locks, a mess on his head. A grin was plastered on his face, your lips tugging up at the corner, mirroring his.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted you. You caught the smell of Josie’s stale beer in his breath as he leaned in to rest a soft kiss on your lips.

“Hey, Matty.”

“He calls you ‘sweetheart,’” your sister’s voice rose from your phone, reminding you that she was still on the line with you. “What’s his name?”

“Matt,” you answered quickly as Matt let himself into your apartment. “I’ll be right with you, okay?” He nodded with a smile, shedding his coat.

“So, that’s you meant by Netflix and chill, uh?” You sister teased,

“No, I genuinely meant Netflix and chill,” you hissed at her as you watched Matt sit down on your couch.

“No one means Netflix and chill when they say Netflix and chill,” Ann told you. “It’s what my husband and I get up to when baby’s with grandma.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I don’t need to hear about that. Absolutely not,”

“Alright, sorry,” she chuckled. “I’ll let you join your beau, but first tell me the basics. What’s his name? What does he do in life? And how hot is he? And most importantly, how long have you been dating?”

You looked up, your eyes landing on the back of Matt’s head. “Alright, basics,” you turned around and leaned against your counter. “His name is Matthew Murdock. He’s a lawyer and has his own firm. He is blind and very—very hot. And sweet as honey. And it’s been—almost four months.”

“Almost four months? And you kept it from me?”

“Says the girl who only told us she was pregnant at the six months mark?” You reminded her.

“It’s not my fault, the props I needed to make the big announcement took too long to be delivered.” She defended herself, “when do we get to meet him?” Ann questioned excitedly.

“Not yet, I don’t want you to scare him away.”

“We won’t, I promise,” your sister said, her voice going a little higher.

“We’ll see about that,” you snorted. “Look, I gotta go. My boyfriend’s over.”

“Okay,” she retorted. “Go Netflix and chill, ‘all night long,’” she sang the last part.

“Alright—bye bye.” You said before hanging up.

You put your phone on the counter, heaving out a deep breath. You had not lied to your sister, you didn’t feel like socializing with anyone that night, so, you opted out of your usual hangout at Josie’s. You walked up to the couch where Matt had settled in, waiting for you patiently. Leaning over the back of the couch, you put your arms around his shoulders and laid a kiss on his cheek. His hands came up, his fingers wrapping around your forearms.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you,” you started, “I’m very glad to see you but aren’t you supposed to be at Josie’s with the others?”

“I’ve been looking forward to spend some time with my girlfriend, and she doesn’t show up,” Matt said quietly.

“I did warn you,” you told him, one of your hands raking through his hair.

“I know,” he gave a pleased hum, “I thought I skipped on the hangout and come and find you here,” your lips tugged up at the corner. “I just missed you,” Matt admitted, pulling your arm away from around his shoulders, to rest a kiss on your wrist.

A soft smile made its way onto your face, “I missed you too.” His lips found yours, kissing yours in a weird angle over the back of the couch. You pulled away, “do you want some food? I cook a really mean stir-fry. Or so, I’ve been told.”

You later found yourself lying in bed, with Matt’s nose buried in your neck. His body was draped over yours, not crushing you under his weight. His weight on top of yours felt comforting, you loved feeling the way he was relaxing under your touch. You wanted to ravish him here and there, but you were enjoying this cuddle session too much to put a stop to it, in favor of mind-blowing sex. One of his hands found its way under your shirt,

“Long week?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you replied in the same manner. “My workload has sort of doubled, I also had to go to meetings. Too many if you ask me,” you explained, your hand rubbing up and down his spine. “I just wanted to enjoy a night to myself, without having to socialize with anyone.”

Matt kissed your collarbone, “sorry, I’ve ruined that for you.”

“I’m not complaining,” you smiled softly. “And you haven’t ruined anything. I had a few hours to myself staring at a wall, which was truly relaxing,” your lips found his brows. “And you’re not anyone, you’re Matt. My ruggedly handsome boyfriend,” a small giggled escaped your lips.

He moved off of you slightly, and you whined at the move. He leaned on his elbow, facing you, his sightless eyes staring at your chin. “Stare at a wall?” His brows were scrunched up.

You giggled again, he smiled at the sound, “yeah, stare at a wall. Technically, not for hours and it wasn’t really a wall. But I do stare at nothing at times, and let my mind wander to the confines of the universe.” You finished with a solemn tone.  

“The confines of the universe, uh?” He laughed, “what does that entail exactly?”

“Well,” your hand ran up his arm, “it’s just another way to say daydreaming really.”

His hand slid higher under your shirt, “what were you daydreaming about?”

Your face flushed in embarrassment; the top of your ears heated up. You usually didn’t share the object of your daydreams. It was in your opinion too intimate for anyone to be let in, and also, you didn’t want them to judge you for it. You’d rather tell him something about a really embarrassing experience than to share what they were about.

You started toying with the short sleeve of his black shirt, “nothing really interesting. It’s just, you know—” you shrugged up one of your shoulders. “—stupid stuff, nothing too important,” you cupped his face, your thumb running across his cheek, rough under your fingers. “And that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”  Matt smiled at you.

“The point was that daydreaming is really relaxing and resting. It’s like my brain shut off, but not completely. My mind can just wander aimlessly and it’s beneficial—for the health.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “should I try it then?”

“You should,” you replied. “Studies showed that people who ‘practiced’ daydreaming have better control over their emotions, have more empathy and are naturally better problem solvers.”

“You read a study about daydreaming?” His eyebrows went up.

You barked out a laugh, “yeah, I looked it up.” You bit down on your bottom lip, “you think I’m weird, don’t you?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you are weird. I know you are,” you slapped his shoulder. Matt burst out a laugh. “It’s part of your charm.”

“Huh, uh,” you nodded.

“Truly, it is. Next to your voice,” he laid a kiss on your throat, “to your laugh,” another kiss on the corner of your lips. Your breath hitched in your throat. “Your weirdness is one my favorite thing,” his lips brushed against your temple. “It’s very entertaining.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Very much.”

He dove for your neck, and started peppering kisses, down your collarbone, up your neck, before attacking your face. The action sent you into a fit of giggles. Being spurt on by your laugh, Matt kept on doing it. Conversation about your daydreams, or your weirdness completely forgotten. Especially when the peppered kisses turned into something more passionate and heated.

You were nearing the four months mark in your relationship with Matt. You often wondered how you’d gotten so lucky with this man. Everything seemed so easy with him. You, who needed alone time to recharge your social battery, found that you didn’t really need one with him. It was the complete opposite, spending time with Matt, recharged your social battery even faster.

Spring was slowly fading away, making room for Summer. The rising heat in the streets of Hell’s Kitchen had a way to irritate people. Walking to work with Amelia, had given you a glimpse into how quick and prone were to anger. All because of the rise in temperature. You didn’t truly mind it, although, at night you did leave a fan on, and slowly wore less and less clothes to bed.

“There isn’t even a lick of wind,” you complained to Amelia. “We should have taken a cab.”

“To go to Josie’s? You’re out of your mind,” Amelia snorted. “Don’t be such a wuss, it’s not that bad yet.”

“What do you mean yet?”

“I mean it’s only the beginning, and it’s going to get worse.” Amelia patiently explained. “It’s not for the weak.”

“Thanks that’s really helpful,” you said as she pushed the door open. “The coldest beer you have, Josie, please.” You almost begged the woman, sitting down on the stool.

“You’re so dramatic,” Amelia huffed out a laugh. “So, weren’t you suppose to meet up with lover boy tonight?”

“He cancelled,” you nodded, turning your stool to face Amelia. “He’s still working on his big case. Needed to tie up some loose ends.”

“When’s the court date?” Amelia questioned; Josie pushed your beers towards you.

“Not for another month,” you retorted. “But you know court case takes a lot, and they need to make sure that they covered all their basis. So, they won’t have any surprises when it comes to trial.”

“You did a deep dive on this, didn’t you?” Amelia cocked up of her eyebrows.

“Not exactly deep dive, but I did look it up,” you gave her a sheepish smile. You took a sip of the cold beer, “That feels so good.”

“You are so not surviving the summer,” she joked.

“Oh, I will. Just to spite you, and Summer.”

Your window was cracked opened slightly, in hopes you would feel some breeze to alleviate the heat. You lied down on the cold floorboard, staring at the ceiling. He had cancelled again that night. His latest case was more complex than he had anticipated. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you understood. But adding to the cancellations, his absences on Fridays at Josie’s had also become more frequent. It wasn’t unusual. He had been unavailable on some Fridays, in the beginning of your relationship, working on opening statements. And you had often popped in to visit him, and fell asleep on his couch while he did so.

It wasn’t unusual.

And yet, you couldn’t help but feel that Matt was probably pulling away from you. Maybe that was the moment the other shoe would drop. Maybe you were right, everything with Matt was too good to be true.

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[honey-crypt]

I was wondering if I could request stardew valley fic of a farmer with chronic vertigo and Sebastian alongside the ✨DISABILITY PRIDE MONTH WRITE-A-THON✨ (honestly gonna be my favourite write-a-thon) though idk if it’d count as much of a disability other than the balance issues, but at least a walking stick can be used to help balance if ya want ideas for it

a/n: i kinda struggled to write this, hence why it's a short fic. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: medical crisis, mentions of puke/puking

word count: 757

summary: sebastian is here to support you through another vertigo episode.

★ i got you, angel - sebastian x farmer who has chronic vertigo ★

Your eyes stared up at the ceiling while you remained motionless in your bed. The world around you appeared as if it was stuck on a bad tape rewind, your vision tripping and tripping. A burst of nausea struck you and you promptly vomited in the puke bucket on your nightstand. Trip, trip, trip, that was how the world went. Spin, spin, spin, you were trapped in that bed until the episode was over. 

Down in the kitchen, Sebastian stirred the cup of tea, a blend of ginger and peppermint. He wasn’t sure if it was the antiemetic effects that made you enjoy it during your vertigo episodes, but  nonetheless, the black-haired man knew that you loved that blend. Sebastian blew the steam off the tea and deemed it safe to consume, walking up the wooden steps into the bedroom. 

“Hi, baby,” he greeted you with a small smile, “I brought you some tea, need me to set it down on the nightstand?” to which you answered with a weak thumbs up. Sebastian placed the cup of tea on the nightstand and laid down beside you, holding you close to his body. You curled up beside him and buried your face into his chest, the hoodie blocking your eyes from the spinning world.

Sebastian adjusted his position and secured you with an arm wrapped over your back. With his free hand, he reached out to the small radio on the other nightstand and turned the knob to the classical music station. A soft melody began to play and enveloped the bedroom in a symphony of violins and flutes. You nuzzled against Sebastian’s chest, the music gently lulling you off to sleep. You liked sleep, sleeping meant not dealing with the nausea, the blurry vision, and the fainting. 

Sebastian rubbed your back with his hand, occasionally tracing shapes and patterns against your thin pajama top. Sometimes, Sebastian wished he could go into your brain and recalibrate everything; after all, he was a programmer at heart. He despised when problems couldn’t be solved. He wanted to fix you, to make you better. 

Sebastian remembered the first time he saw you have a vertigo episode. It was early on in you two’s friendship, you moved to the valley only a month or so ago. The two of you were just chatting by the lake outside his house. The birds were chirping, the trees’ leaves rustled against the cold fall breeze. 

One moment, you were fine, you were getting up from the ground; next thing he knew, Sebastian had to catch you in his arms, as the world around you turned into a never-ending carousel ride. You looked more embarrassed than scared, meekly clinging onto Sebastian like a small child. He carried you off to the clinic without a second thought, trying to mask his concern. 

He looked back down at your sleeping form, feeling you inhale and exhale. Sebastian leaned forward carefully, not wanting to disturb your slumber, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The radio station switched to the next song, one featuring a full fledged orchestra and accompanied by a piano backtrack. 

Sebastian struggled to understand the pain you went through every time you had a bout of vertigo. Sure, he experienced it before, usually when he got ear infections as a kid, but this was different. It was like you were a ticking time bomb and no one knew the next time the vertigo would strike. 

He wanted to take away your pain. The doctors didn’t have any answers, they ran every test imaginable to try to find a diagnosis fitting of your condition. It was simply chronic vertigo, they said, and oh Yoba, how their indifference made Sebastian’s blood boil. 

He knew that you were capable, always strict with yourself to make sure you attended your appointments with the vestibular disorder specialist and the otolaryngologist. He knew that you could handle yourself, but Yoba, did it shatter Sebastian’s heart into pieces when he would find you collapsed by the toilet after vomiting from the nausea or when he would see you cry your tears out because everything around you was moving too fast.

Sebastian peered down at you, his angel. He grabbed the discarded blanket from off the floor and covered the two of you with it. The song slowly came to an end with a final piano and violin harmony. Sebastian’s eyes grew heavy with sleep.

“I got you,” he mumbled aloud, “I got you, angel,” he closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

[sanjisprincesswifey]

it's been a long, long time ⋆ sanji x reader

summary: a certain song reminds sanji how much he missed you

♡: post whole cake island sanji (sort of spoilers for this arc). female reader. 700+ words. sfw. spotify link.

a crack of thunder has sanji’s eyes fluttering open, immediately scanning the room he had been sleeping in. relieved, his heart calms when he sees luffy, chopper, and brook all asleep in their bunks.

he cradles his pillow underneath his head, bringing the blanket to his face in a child-like manner. since returning from whole cake, it was not the first night he had been easily startled awake and left in the dark by himself. not even luffy’s snore (that was just as violent as his appetite) could provide the cook any comfort in alleviating his feeling of loneliness.

after tossing and turning for ten more minutes, the drowsiness vanishes with each painfully slow second that passes. too many uncomfortable sleeping positions are attempted until sanji decides that sleep was no longer an option.

the gentle raindrops catch in his blond hair as he scoots along to the kitchen, confused when he noticed the dim light creeping from underneath the door.

he’s compelled to knock before he enters, pushing the door when he hears shuffling coming from the other side.

“sanji?” you say, stepping towards him cautiously after having identified his unusually disheveled state. he neither moves or responds to you as you take his hand and shut the door behind him. “are you okay?” you hopelessly ask.

you already knew that he wasn’t.

a few raindrops fall from his wet hair as he shakes his head no. he leans into your body as you guide him to a chair at the counter, whimpering when you pull away.

“can i finish the dishes? i’ll bring you with me to the crow’s nest when i’m done,” you offer, brushing his bangs back from his face.

both of his curly brows soften, and the corners of his lips rise slightly, signaling that was a yes.

you kiss the spiral of eyebrow before returning to your incomplete chore.

sanji hadn’t noticed the radio transponder snail that had been on, now playing soft jazz for both of your enjoyment.

with his head in his hand, he leans against the counter happily watching as you took on the role he had always provided you. usually, it was you who sat in this seat, waiting for him to be done with the dishes so you could accompany the other for the night watch shift. now that he thinks about it, this is the first time this scenario had occurred since coming back.

a tear rolls down his face from the combined romance of such a bittersweet moment and the guilt from the events that transpired for you to get to this point.

the beginning few notes of a song begin to play as both your head shoot up and glance over to the radio.

neither of you speak as you dry your hands and without missing a beat, sanji stands up and walks over to you, collapsing into your awaiting arms. his head leans on your shoulder while his arms wrap tightly around your waist. your grip is much looser when you wrap your arms around his neck, running a hand through his hair.

sanji hums lightly to the music the two of you sway back and forth, light sniffles following as his body shakes ever so slightly.

you can feel his whole body relax when you whisper the lyrics along with him. his trembling hands hold you so fearfully, but you understood why and didn’t mind the pressure anyway.

“i was so scared,” he admits. his whole body is like jelly in your hands, completely dependent on you as his sobs become less and less silenced. “it was so dark there,” he cries, “i…i thought i lost you.”

you nod your head, your chest aching at each remorseful word. despite how much you had told him, sanji wouldn’t stop blaming himself. you knew he’d react this way, it was just the type of guy he was. you would always come first to him, even when he was forced to relive the pain and trauma his childhood had brought upon him.

unfortunately, you understood there wasn’t much you could do for him at this point besides love him, which wasn’t a difficult task to accomplish.

you run your hands through his hair, coddling him as the song hits the chorus. “haven’t felt like this, my dear, since can’t remember when,” you whisper, which begins to calm his panicked sobs.

you place a kiss on his head, “don’t worry,” you coo, as he picks his head up to look into your eyes. “i’ve got you now, my dear,” you hum as you cradle his face in between your hands, leaning in to place a delicate kiss on his lips.

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