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mercvry-glow · 3 months ago

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It's never over

parings. jack abbot x reader

summary. after a fight with jack, you spend the rest of your night clubbing with some friends. unfortunately that choice lands you into your partners er.

warnings. implied age gap (jack late 40s, reader late 20s/early 30s), established relationship, jack and reader fight, reader gets drugged and creeped on, hospital setting, medical emergencies, reader is okay tho, accurate as possible medical talk, soft!jack eventually, angst and hurt/comfort, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. I can't believe this is my longest fic and I don't like it 😭 I do love them though, and I love the angst, I just think this wasn't my strongest so we'll see how I feel when I get some more of yall's opinions. as always any and all feedback is appreciated!

wc. 4100+

You were just finishing your makeup when you heard the shower turn off.

It was a quiet kind of hope that filled your chest—small and delicate, but real. It had been weeks since the two of you had a night off together. Back-to-back night shifts, emergency call-ins, 4 a.m. arguments whispered in the dark… it had all blurred into something numb. Something too heavy.

But tonight?

Tonight was supposed to be the reset button.

You stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing your dress down with your hands, a nervous flutter in your stomach. Something soft played from the speaker on your nightstand. The perfume you wore on your first date still lingered in the air.

Then you saw it.

Black scrubs. His badge clipped to the collar. Go-bag on the floor.

You froze.

Jack stepped into the room, towel around his shoulders, running a hand through damp curls. He paused the second he saw your face.

“Babe—”

“No,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please don’t say it, you didn’t…”

He glanced at the scrubs like he wished they’d disappear. “Shen called when you were in the shower. They’re short. Real short. Two nurses out and a doctor is MIA—he’s drowning.”

You blinked. “And you said yes.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “He sounded desperate. I figured you’d—”

“You figured I’d be fine,” you cut in, hurt creeping into your voice. “Because it’s always me who has to make the compromise.”

“It’s one shift,” he said, already tugging on his top.

“It’s never just one,” you snapped, then caught yourself, hands tightening at your sides. “I got off three hours ago, Jack. I’ve been dragging myself through twelve-hour nights, sometimes more just like you. And the one time we both actually had a night off…”

He looked away. “This isn’t about us.”

“Isn’t it?” you said, your voice cracking. “Because it feels like it is.”

Silence pressed in between you.

“I get it,” you added. “I know what it’s like when the unit’s falling apart. I know what it’s like to be needed, to be the one that says yes every time. But God, Jack… when do I get to be your emergency?”

He stiffened.

“You think I want to do this?” he snapped suddenly. “You think I don’t feel it too? That I don’t want to just stay here, take you to dinner, act like our lives aren’t chaos 24/7?”

“Then why don't you?” you said, voice breaking. “Why is it always someone else who gets the best of you?”

He looked at you then, eyes tired, voice bitter. “Because they need me. You wouldn’t get it.”

Your heart stopped.

“What did you just say to me?”

He hesitated—too long. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“No. Say it again,” you said, stepping back. “Say I don’t get it, Jack.”

Jack sighed, frustrated. “You know what I mean. You’re not—”

“Not what?” you snapped. “Not enough? Not capable of understanding? I work the same damn shifts as you do. I patch up the same wounds, hold the same dying hands—don’t you dare act like I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered, but it was already too late.

You grabbed your bag, throat thick with hurt. “You want to play doctor, Jack? Fine. Go save Pittsburgh. But don’t expect me to sit here and wait again for whatever’s left of you after.”

He moved toward you, but you stepped around him, heart pounding in your chest.

“I gave you tonight,” you whispered at the door. “And you gave it away.”

And then you left—heels in your hand, dress still clinging to hope, the soft click of the door the only sound between you.

Things didn’t get much better after you left.

The music thumped in your chest, the bass vibrating through the soles of your feet. It was loud. Too loud. But that was the point, right?

After the fight, after the disappointment and the sting of Jack’s words, you just needed something different. Something that would make you forget for a little while. So, when Marina and Kat suggested hitting the club, you agreed. You’d always enjoyed the energy, the people, the feeling of being free, even if just for a night.

So now you found yourself in a packed, dark club with flashing lights and bodies grinding against each other on the dance floor. You didn’t know exactly why you were here, but the thought of being home alone, stewing in anger and confusion, was too much to handle.

The girls were already lost in the crowd, their laughter cutting through the music as they grabbed drinks from the bar. You followed, trying to shake off the ache in your chest, the one that kept whispering that Jack should’ve been out with you, not at work.

“Another round?” Kat asked, leaning close enough for you to hear over the beat.

You nodded, your eyes scanning the bar area, the chaos of the club almost soothing in its madness. The atmosphere was a welcome distraction, even though it wasn’t the night you’d planned. You hadn’t expected to feel so… hollow. Jack’s absence was like a weight pressing against your chest, and you were trying to ignore it. Trying to not think about how your plans had been shattered, how this whole night had been supposed to be different.

You made your way toward the bar, needing a moment of quiet, a break from the noise, when a guy approached. He was dressed in a tight shirt that seemed to shimmer under the club lights, his hair perfectly styled. He smiled at you, one that was too eager, almost practiced.

“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you,” he said, leaning in just a bit too close. “I’m Alex. And you—wow. You look incredible.”

You forced a smile, taking a step back instinctively. “Thanks,” you said, trying to keep the interaction polite, your voice still a little stiff. “I’m just here with some friends.”

His smile didn’t falter. “I can tell, I just had to come over. I mean, with a woman like you, how could I not?”

You glanced around, hoping to spot either Marina or Kat, but the crowd was thick and you were feeling boxed in. “I’m not really looking for company,” you said, hoping that would be enough.

He didn’t take the hint. Instead, his hand moved closer to your arm, brushing against the bare skin of your shoulder.

“You sure? I’m just trying to have a good time, and you seem like you’re someone who knows how to enjoy herself,” he said, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper. A chill ran down your spine. You weren’t sure if it was the way he said it or just how off his energy felt, but it made your stomach turn.

“I said no, thank you,” you said, trying to sound firm, but your words barely made it through the noise of the music.

He didn’t back off, though. His dark eyes raked over you like he was trying to figure you out, like you were some new prize to be won. “Come on, what’s the harm in just one drink? One dance?” He stepped in closer, his breath warm on your neck.

You shook your head, feeling the walls close in. Your palms were starting to get clammy, the tightness in your chest spreading. “I’m not interested,” you repeated, your voice sharper this time, but his grip on your arm tightened, just a little.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, his fingers brushing the strap of your dress. “You know you want to have some fun.”

That was it. The polite smile you’d been forcing finally slipped away. You wrenched your arm free from his grip, your voice loud and clear now.

“I said no,” you snapped, the force of your words cutting through the loud music.

His eyes flashed, surprised at your sudden change in tone, but then he just scoffed. “Fine, whatever,” he muttered, his expression turning into a sneer. “Guess I misread you.”

You didn’t even wait for him to finish walking away. You turned sharply, heart pounding in your chest, as you made your way back toward the dance floor. The excitement of the club had completely evaporated, replaced with the taste of bitterness and frustration.

You made your way back toward the dance floor, heart still racing, the heat of the club suddenly feeling suffocating. The beat of the music had lost its pull on you, replaced by the sting of unwanted attention and the frustration of a night gone wrong. You barely noticed the way the crowd shifted, how people pressed against you as you walked through them, each of them just another stranger in your path. You tried to shake the unease away, but it lingered like a shadow.

Marina and Kat, the only two familiar faces in this chaotic scene, were still at the bar, but you couldn’t muster the energy to go back to them just yet. You needed a moment alone, even if that meant getting lost in the crowd. You found a quiet corner at the edge of the room, trying to collect your thoughts, breathing in the air that smelled of alcohol and sweat, but it did little to calm the storm in your chest.

The drink you’d had earlier—a rum and coke—was still sitting in your hand. You’d been nursing it for most of the night, the ice now long melted, the liquid a watered-down version of what it had been when you first grabbed it at the bar. It wasn’t your favorite, but you didn’t mind. You hadn’t been focused on the drink anyway, just trying to keep the edges of your frustration from seeping through.

But now, as you took another sip, something felt off. Your stomach tightened, but not in the way it usually did after too much alcohol. It was deeper, almost hollow, like there was something foreign inside you. You set the drink down on the nearest table, trying to ignore the growing sense of unease gnawing at the back of your mind.

Your vision started to blur, the flashing lights of the club becoming a chaotic swirl of neon. The music, once a vibrant pulse beneath your skin, now felt distant—like you were hearing it from underwater. The pressure in your head built an oppressive weight that made it hard to think clearly. You stumbled slightly, your legs growing heavy, and it took all your effort just to stay standing.

You glanced around for your friends, but the crowd had thickened, and the girls were nowhere to be seen. Panic crept up your spine. You needed them. You needed someone to help. But the room felt like it was spinning now, faster and faster, and your body wasn’t cooperating with you anymore.

"Hey, are you okay?" A voice cut through the fog in your mind, but you couldn’t place where it came from. You tried to focus, to find the person speaking, but your vision darkened again, everything going black at the edges.

You blinked, trying to fight off the overwhelming dizziness, but it was useless. The world around you tilted, and the last thing you remembered was sinking to your knees, the floor rushing up to meet you.

The ER was chaotic as always.

Monitors beeped in staccato rhythms, stretchers lined the halls, and the air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the metallic tang of adrenaline. Jack hadn’t stopped moving since he walked in, not even long enough to get a proper cup of coffee. His scrubs still clung to his damp skin from the rushed post-shower change, and his muscles ached from tension he hadn’t had time to notice until now.

A code had just cleared. He stood in the corner of north three, charting with one hand, the other gripping a barely-sipped paper cup of coffee that had long gone cold. The flicker of a headache gnawed behind his eyes.

He shouldn’t be here.

His mind kept drifting—back to the house, to the way you looked in that dress, to the way your voice cracked when you said “when do I get to be your emergency?”

God, that had hit harder than he’d let on.

And then he’d said the wrong thing—“You wouldn’t get it.” The words kept echoing back in his ears like a cruel joke. You did get it. Maybe more than anyone ever had.

He hadn’t checked his phone since you left. Couldn’t bring himself to. If you texted, he’d crumble. If you didn’t… Well, that was somehow worse.

“Dr. Abbot!”

Jack snapped out of it at the sound of John’s voice shouting down the hallway. He turned toward him, brows knitting together. Shen was already halfway across the ED, panting slightly, eyes wide.

“What is it?” Jack asked, already moving toward him.

“Overdose. Young woman—unknown age, female. Brought in from the strip district—some club off Penn. Unconscious on arrival, GCS dropped to six en route.”

Jack's jaw tightened. “ETA?”

“They just pulled up.”

Jack tossed his chart aside and strode toward the ambulance bay without another word, adrenaline already kicking in.

Shen jogged beside him. “Paramedics think her drink was spiked—GHB, maybe? Said she started seizing before they got her out of the club. Friends couldn’t find her at first—she was alone when they found her on the floor.”

Something twisted in Jack’s gut. He didn’t know why. Just a flicker of unease, a sick chill climbing up his spine.

The ambulance bay doors opened with a mechanical hiss. The flashing red lights reflected off the glass like warning signals in his head.

He stepped outside, heart thudding.

And then he saw her.

Or You.

Unconscious. Oxygen mask strapped to your still pretty face. IVs in both arms. Your dress—the dress you had bought—bunched awkwardly around your hips. One heel missing. A smudge of mascara on your cheek like a cruel reminder of what tonight was supposed to be.

The paramedic was shouting something, but Jack didn’t hear it. His vision tunneled. His world narrowed to just you—still, and small on the gurney.

“No,” Jack whispered, stepping forward, his breath catching in his throat. “No, no, no—”

He pushed through the medic, grabbing onto the rail of the stretcher.

“What happened?” he barked. His voice was hoarse, shaking.

“GHB suspected. Found alone. Low responsiveness. HR is unstable. She’s seizing on and off—”

Jack was already moving, wheeling you into trauma bay one. “Get Narcan ready just in case. Push fluids. Get me labs, tox screen, full workup. Page neuro for consult—now.”

He didn’t even care that his voice cracked. Didn’t care that every nurse and medic in that hallway was staring at him like he’d lost it.

Because he had.

You were his emergency now, and he was terrified he might be too late.

The doors slammed open with a bang as Jack wheeled you inside, every step fueled by sheer panic and clinical precision. His hands moved on autopilot, but his mind? His mind was screaming.

“She’s hypotensive,” a nurse called. “BP’s dropping—seventy over fifty.”

“Push fluids—hang a liter of LR, now. Get a second IV. 16-gauge if you can find a vein.”

Your head lolled to the side as the team lifted you onto the bed. Jack’s breath hitched.

“Jesus, she’s burning up,” he muttered, pressing his palm to your forehead. “Get her temp.”

“102.6,” Shen called.

“Possible serotonin syndrome or stimulant combo,” Jack said quickly. “Start cooling measures. Ice packs under the arms. Get a foley—need accurate output.”

A nurse moved to cut the dress from your body, but Jack put his hand out. “Don’t—” His voice cracked again. He paused, swallowed, forced the words out through gritted teeth. “Let me.”

No one argued. Everyone knew—this wasn’t just another patient, you were one of them, you were jack’s. His slightly trembling hands carefully unzipped the side of your dress, easing it off your shoulders and down. He fought to keep his face unreadable, but his throat felt raw, his stomach twisting into knots. The scent of your perfume—the one you wore on your first date—still lingered faintly in the air.

“Vitals?” he barked, refocusing as nurses applied leads to your chest.

“HR 122. O2’s eighty-nine but climbing. BP’s coming up a little.”

Jack leaned over you, brushing damp hair from your forehead. Your lashes fluttered, just barely. A flicker of awareness behind your lids.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, not caring who heard. “Stay with me. I’m right here. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

You stirred faintly, a tiny groan slipping past your lips.

“Hey, hey—it’s me,” he said, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek. “You’re in the ER. You’re safe now, alright? I got you.”

Your eyes opened a crack, glassy and unfocused. You blinked slowly, clearly struggling to process. And then—

“J…Jack?” you croaked, barely above a whisper.

He exhaled, choking on relief.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said quickly, squeezing your hand. “I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

You blinked again, trying to sit up, but your body betrayed you. “What… happened?”

“You were drugged,” Jack said gently. “Spiked drink. Club downtown. Do you remember anything?”

You shook your head faintly, then winced as pain rolled through you. “I—he—there was this guy… he wouldn’t leave me alone…”

Jack’s jaw tightened. Fury flared behind his eyes, but he pushed it down.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, brushing some hair out of your face. “Don’t worry about that right now. You’re here. You’re safe.”

“Y-you were supposed to be at work,” you mumbled, confusion clouding your voice.

His heart cracked clean in half.

“I am. But they brought you in,” he whispered, gripping your hand tighter. “They brought you in… and everything else stopped.”

He didn’t realize his hands were shaking until your hand weakly squeezed his.And for the first time that night, Jack let himself fall apart—just a little. Because you were the emergency. And nothing else mattered now.

After an hour of working on you, Jack stood at the foot of your bed, hands braced on his hips, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. Monitors beeped in steady rhythm. The IV pumped fluids into your system, and you were stable now—groggy but safe.

It had been the longest hour of his life..

He didn’t realize how tight his jaw had been until he stepped out of the trauma bay and let the door swing closed behind him. He needed a second. Just one.

But that’s when he saw them—Marina and Kat, hovering near the nurses' station down the hall like two ghosts.

They looked like hell. Club makeup smudged, heels in their hands, eyes wide and red-rimmed. They’d followed the ambulance but hadn’t pushed forward until now.

When Jack made eye contact with them, they froze. The hallway felt too quiet, the tension snapping taut.

He moved toward them with slow, deliberate steps. His face was unreadable—too calm to be safe.

“You two were with her.” His voice wasn’t angry, not exactly. But it carried the weight of someone barely holding it together. “So tell me what happened.”

Kat opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Marina stepped in instead, her voice small. “We didn’t know. Jack, we—we didn’t know. She just said she needed a minute and went to the bar. We were right there.”

“She was alone,” Jack said, his tone still deceptively even. “Long enough for some asshole to slip something in her drink.”

“We didn’t see anyone,” Kat said, her voice cracking. “We were watching her an-and then she was gone until someone screamed. She collapsed. We thought—Jesus, we thought she just had too much to drink, but she only bought one.”

Jack closed his eyes for a beat, dragging a hand over his face.

“She didn’t,” he muttered. “Tox screen lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree. Probably in that one drink she barely touched.”

Marina blinked, horrified. “She said it didn’t taste right. Said it was too sweet.”

“She was trying to be safe,” Jack said, his voice tightening. “Did everything right. Still ended up in my fucking ER, barely coherent.”

Neither of them had anything to say to that. Because what could you say?

“I should’ve been with her,” Jack added quietly, more to himself than to them. “We were supposed to have tonight. And I left.”

Marina stepped forward cautiously, soft as always. “She didn’t blame you, Jack. She didn’t even say your name like she was mad. She just—she was looking for you.”

That hit harder than it should’ve. Jack’s throat worked as he swallowed, glancing back at the trauma room door behind him.

“She’s sleeping now,” he said finally. “Out of the woods.”

“Can we… see her?” Kat asked gently.

Jack nodded. “Just be quiet. She might not wake up for a while.”

Marina hesitated, then touched Jack’s arm, tentative. “She loves you, you know that. Don’t let tonight be the thing that breaks you both.”

Jack didn’t answer, but something in his expression softened—just barely. The steel cracked for a second, showing the man underneath. The one who hadn’t left her side. The one who never would.

And then he stepped back toward the door, glancing once more at the monitor inside.

“Tell her I’m here,” he said. “When she wakes up…”

The soft beeping of the monitor was the first thing you heard. It was steady, rhythmic, almost comforting, but it felt like the sound was a distant echo, like you weren’t quite sure where it was coming from. Your eyes fluttered open, blurry at first, the room around you coming into focus slowly.

Your head throbbed with a dull ache, a tightness in your chest pulling at your breath. Something felt wrong—like the world had shifted just slightly, leaving you off-balance.

Then, the scent of antiseptic and faint, stale coffee mixed with the familiar one that had always been home to you: Jack.

Your eyes scanned the dimly lit room. There, sitting at your side, was Jack—his back to you as he slumped in a chair, his hand resting near yours on the bed. His posture was stiff, but there was something in the way his shoulders hung, the way his breath came a little too fast, that told you he wasn’t just tired.

He was worried.

You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry, raw. You croaked out a faint sound, and Jack snapped to attention, immediately leaning forward. His eyes met yours, and there it was—the instant relief, mixed with guilt, storming across his features.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice hoarse. “Hey, look at me. You’re okay.”

You tried to say something, but your voice wouldn’t cooperate. You croaked again, your hand weakly reaching for his.

Jack’s fingers tightened around yours, warm and steady. His thumb traced over the back of your hand as if to reassure both of you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been with you.”

You blinked, your mind sluggish as it pieced things together. You could barely remember what had happened. The night, the club, the man at the bar, the drink…The wave of nausea hit you, and you squeezed his hand harder. He immediately noticed.

“Take it easy,” he said, his free hand brushing a few stray hairs from your forehead. “You’ve been through a lot.”

It wasn’t just the physical toll—it was everything else. The confusion, the anger, the heartbreak.

“I… I didn’t…” You stopped, your throat closing up. The words didn’t come out easily, but Jack was right there, waiting patiently.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he said gently, like he could hear everything you couldn’t say. “I know. I should’ve done better. I should’ve been with you.”

You squeezed his hand again, the weight of his words and your own swirling in the space between you. The thought of him taking the blame—the one who had stayed behind, who had always put in the work—was almost too much.

And you didn’t have the strength to argue.

“You’re here,” you whispered finally, eyes barely open. “That’s all I need right now.”

Jack’s chest tightened at that, his eyes darkening as he bent closer, brushing his lips against your forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I’ll never do that to you again.”

Your heart gave a flutter at his words, and though your head was still spinning, your chest felt just a little lighter.

A quiet comfort settled between you, something unspoken but deeply understood. For all the chaos of the world outside, for all the mistakes and regrets, you knew that together, you’d get through it.

And for tonight, that was enough.

mercvry-glow 2025

#the pitt #the pitt max #the pitt hbo #the pitt x reader #the pitt x you #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #jack abbott x you #dr. jack abbot #dr. jack abbot x reader #dr. jack abbot x you #dr. jack abbott #dr. jack abbott x reader #dr. jack abbott x you #shawn hatosy #❥ - Jack Abbot

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shra-vasti · 1 month ago

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I DON'T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND, PJS (PART 1)

• SYNOPSIS: A fleeting encounter with Park Jay at a high school party leaves a quiet imprint on your then broken heart. Years later, you find him again, now as an icy guitarist of the campus boy band, HYPHENIX. You never spoke again, but you remembered his eyes, his words, his presence and how he lingered at the back of your mind years after. You wanted to reach for him, but he was so far, popular, untouchable that you decided to pour your heart to him in secret, until the secret was revealed but someone else claimed it before you could. Or in which you pour your heart into anonymous letters for the cold, distant guitarist, Jay, only to watch your best friend claim every word as her own.

• PAIRING: Park Jongseong (Jay) x afab!reader

• WORD COUNT: 21.4k (Part 1)

• CONTENT TAGS: Non idol au, university settings, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, shy reader x popular Jay, down bad reader, betrayal, abandonment, miscommunications or lack of communications, profanities, name calling, stereotyping, best friend's boyfriend, reader is nosy and loves other people's business way too much (my twin fr), fear of rejection and unwanted attention, body image issues in the beginning, toxic relationships and friendships, low-key stalker reader, reader wears glasses, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything.

PART 2

• AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic turned out to be more lengthy than I initially planned, so I am splitting it into 2 part. Lmk if you want to be tagged for part 2 when I post it. Your likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated. Thank you so much for showering my write ups with your love. Happy reading♡��

The music blaring through the speakers hit you first, deep bass vibrating through the pavement long before you reached the house. It meddled with your heartbeat, getting louder with decreasing distance from the party. You sighed leaning your head on the car's window, the house looked unfamiliar, windows glowing red, blue, green against the night. You didn't know whose house this was, just that your boyfriend said everyone would be there and to let yourself loose from time to time. You fixed the glasses on your nose, and adjusted your jacket, you turned your head to look at your boyfriend.

He looked in your direction briefly when he felt your gaze on him before sighing, "don't stress too much." You gulped, feeling anxious, "I don't really know anyone there Joon," you started, eyes brimming with worry, "you'll stay by my side right?" You heard him exhale a deep breath before throwing a wink at you, "yes babe, don't worry, you look really beautiful today, I'm stressed someone will steal you away from me." You pushed him a bit, blush creeping on your neck as you turned back towards the window.

Cars were lined up the driveway, recklessly parked. You wouldn't expect anything less from high schoolers anyway. You could hear the screams and laughter from the porch, it was loud and chaotic and it made your stomach churned. "Let's go," your eyes followed your boyfriend's actions, and you proceeded to take off your seatbelt. He stood beside the door tapping his foot impatiently, you shook your head and opened your side of the door. He locked the door behind you and started making his way towards the house. You hurriedly rushed behind him, and then slowed your steps down when you reached beside him.

The air was thick inside, tangled in a weird mix of cheap perfume, alcohol and something burning, maybe it was food or the fireworks you didn't know. Your hand latched onto your boyfriend's sleeve as soon as you entered. The environment was warm, crowded, strangers pressed against each other like puzzle pieces that don't belong together. The LED lights stung your eyes. You moved through the crowd tightly pressed against your boyfriend's side. Every corner of the room was alive with conversations you weren't a part of, some shouting over the music, some laughing at their friend's antics, some posing for pictures. The walls of the house felt suffocating though it was relatively big, the energy inside too much, reminding you that you don't belong here.

The music was pounding in your ears, too loud, too bothersome. You stood beside your boyfriend, who anxiously texted his friends asking where they are. Your eyes trailed towards the dance floor, bodies swayed with the rhythm of the music, some too close, some trying not to lose their balance. It happened too fast, one moment your boyfriend was beside you, another moment he rushed towards the other side of the room completely disregarding your presence. Your eyes followed him, your steps following suit. Someone shouted over the bass, out of frustration or joy you couldn't tell.

You grabbed your boyfriend's hand, your action making him stop to look at you. Just in time someone crashed into your shoulder, their clumsy actions making you stumble as a slosh of liquid hit the floor beneath you and onto your heel-cladded feet. The sticky scent of fruit punch or some weird concoction clung in the air, few people gathered around to look at the mess before laughing and stepping over it like it didn't matter. Your feet felt sticky and your boyfriend rolled his eyes at the sight, "how about you go to the bathroom and clean yourself? I'll wait for you here." You grimaced before nodding your head at your boyfriend and making your way towards the bathroom.

You washed your feet and heels with irritation seeping deep in your bones, this is the exact reason why you don't do parties, it's messy and loud and everything you tend to avoid. After drying your feet and heels with tissue, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror. You combed your fingers through your loose hair to make them a tad bit presentable, fixing your glasses yet again you sighed and texted your boyfriend to meet near the dance floor. You made your way out of the bathroom and towards the dance floor, scanning the room for your boyfriend as you waited for him to text you back.

"Joon?" You tapped his shoulder when you found him leaning on the wall as he chatted with someone animatedly. He turned around, visible irritation laced on his face as he excused himself and made his way in the opposite direction, you followed suit, confused about his sudden discontent towards you. "Joon, where are you going? I asked you to wait for me, didn't I?" He stopped abruptly when he was sure he was away from the eyesight of his friends. You collided with his back, "I was just catching up with my friends! Can't you at least leave me alone for a few minutes?" You shuddered at his high-pitched tone, "you know I don't like partying yet I came since you promised that you'll stay by my side."

"Gosh you're so clingy-" his voice was cut off when someone called out his name, both of you turned around towards the person, "is this your girl Joon? Won't you introduce her to us?" You eyed the girl who smiled at you after giving your boyfriend a sharp side eye. He shrugged, ushering her to join others before he turned towards you. "Take your jacket and glasses off, try to look good for me in front of my friends, I've a reputation to uphold." Your eyes widened at his words rendering you speechless. It was the first time he had uttered those words to you, was he ashamed of introducing you to his friends just as you were? You thought he loved you for you.

All of your thoughts came to a halt when he turned you around and took off your jacket despite you protesting. You weren't comfortable with showing much skin. He knew that the spaghetti strap top you were wearing underneath made you feel more conscious about yourself and your surroundings. He threw the jacket somewhere on the couch, grabbing your hand and made his way towards his friends. "Joon, you know I'm not good with people, what are you doing?" He ignored your pleas as he stopped in front of his friends. You put your head down, hoping somehow they'll focus on your boyfriend and forget that you existed.

"Your girlfriend is really pretty, Joon." One of the girls from his circle chimed, her nails lightly scratching his arms, she didn't even spare you a glance as she went on about how pretty you are, and how funny you must be. Everyone else looked a bit uncomfortable at the exchange aside from your boyfriend and her. Someone cleared their throat to break the awkward tension and your boyfriend snapped from his trance and proceeded to introduce you. Awkward and sympathetic smiles greeted you in return, their eyes meeting with each other like they knew something you didn't. The same girl asked you to have a drink, laughing obnoxiously loud as you declined as if not abusing your liver was a mundane thought to have.

Joon grabbed the drink from the waiter and held your face with one hand as he forced you to drink whatever it was in that cup, you pushed him, startled by him constantly crossing your boundaries without a single care. The whole group gasped as he stumbled backward and fell on the ground. Few of his friends took out their cameras to record the scene. You wiped the remnants of the drink dropping down from your mouth, your eyes fixed on the way your boyfriend glared at you. The girl from earlier sat by his side, words of venom spilling off from her cherry lips as she helped your boyfriend get up. And with the way your boyfriend's hand rested low on her lips and the concern etched on her face, you knew what place you held in your boyfriend's life.

You shook your head as you made your way towards the back of the house, taking off your glasses momentarily to wipe the tears that managed to fall off your eyes. The backyard was nearly empty save it from a few people who were smoking joints in the corner. You made your way towards the small staircase which led towards the gazebo and sat there, contemplating on your reactions towards your boyfriend's actions. You turned to look if he followed you but got more disappointed as you saw him wrapping his arms around the girl instead. You couldn't figure out if the shiver that went down your spine and the goosebumps on your skin was because of your boyfriend's actions or because of the weather.

You let the tears flow, your glasses fogging up as you took deep breaths to control losing your shit right at a stranger's house. This isn't how you planned the start of your weekend to go, yet here you were, drowning in your misery as your mind went back to all the things your boyfriend did previously which you ignored. You were too busy believing in his potential that you forgot to look at how he is in the present. All the lies, the excuses, the missed dates, the secrecy everything played in front of your eyes like a tape record on loop. You blame yourself for letting him play with you for so long.

You stopped crying when a blurry image came into view, you took off your glasses, wiped it with the hem of your top and put it back to get a better view. You heard a sigh from beside you, as your vision adjusted, a handkerchief. You took it in your hand and wiped your tears, unable to look at the person who handed it to you. "Young love, huh? Must be painful..." your eyes fell on the stranger who sat beside you, a half-smile adorning his face, not unkind but more like he knew how you were feeling, "but hey, heartbreak makes a good story for later, right?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his comment, "you're saying it like you're some old man trapped in a hot boy body."

"You're saying I'm hot?" Your cheeks flared up with heat as you let the weight of your words sink in your head, your eyes widened in embarrassment as he just laughed. You took in his appearance, he was laughing with his head thrown back, carefree and unfiltered like he owned the world. His cheeks flushed, either from alcohol or laughing, you weren't sure. His smile was wide, the kind of smile which made people look at him twice even without meaning to. His hair's a little messy, pushed back like he ran his hands through it one to many times. His eyes shined with a tipsy charm as they locked with yours, the kind of eyes which makes you forget your own name even when he's sober.

"I saw what happened back there, thought you'd appreciate a company," his words brought your mind back to your current situation, frown appearing on your relaxed face once again. You sighed, hugged yourself, maybe you could use some company, "I really thought he loved me," you started, head hanging low as you felt shame consume you for being so stupid, "I let him break one too many of my boundaries." He sighed as he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders. His scent enveloped your senses, calming your frantic heart a little, "dump him, he's not worth it and you're better than this."

You looked at him briefly, "I don't know if I have that much confidence in me, I don't have anyone else other than him." His hand made its way to your chin, lifting it up slightly, you're met with his sharp gaze, "confidence isn't loud you know, sometimes confidence is just choosing yourself over others. And I believe you're closer to choosing yourself than you think." His determined eyes and lopsided smile made your heart skip a bit. He reluctantly removed his hand from your chin, coughing awkwardly as he looked away as if his words didn't really pierced through your heart. "You think so?" You questioned meekly as you fiddled with your fingers. He looked at the sky, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped, "You don't need to be confident to walk away. You just need to take one step. And yeah, maybe you feel like he is all you have right now but he is not all there is. Don't build your entire world around someone who can't hold it for you."

You let his words sink in your chest, your boyfriend was the only person you had, he made sure of that. Maybe deep down you knew you deserved better than him, and maybe you just needed someone else to remind you, "you're great with words, can I at least know the name of the person I am trauma bonding with?" He chuckled at your words, "Jay's fine." You nodded, telling him your name in return. You spent the rest of the night talking with him, your mind drifting far off from your boyfriend as you laughed at him while he explained how he got fed up with his friends who were shit-faced drunk and creating a scene. He told you how parties weren't really his cup of tea but he liked entertaining his friends who loved it. As the night went on you realized he was drunk as well and probably won't even remember this small exchange with you in the morning, yet you were glad you weren't drowning alone in your misery tonight.

"Ah, I need to go. My friends have been calling me non stop and my phone was on silent mode." He was on his feet and off towards the house before you could bring yourself to stop him to ask for his number. You booked a cab to get you back to your house when you realized he didn't take his jacket back with him. You just looked at him as his figure disappeared into the crowd and ran towards the direction he went but you lost him and you wondered if you'll ever be able to meet me again. You reached home, head pounding due to all the crying and a little bit of drink which your boyfriend forced you to drink.

You quickly messaged your boyfriend to call it quits and blocked his number from every possible app you could, not even waiting for his reply. You opened your instagram, your fingers moving before your mind did. You recognized a guy from your school, Sunoo, at the party. He's a social butterfly. Maybe his profile could help you with finding Jay. You opened his profile, sighing in relief as his page was public, you went to the tagged section to see if you could find Jay and there he was. You zoomed in to take a clear look, the picture was blurry but the jacket in the picture looked familiar to the one currently draped on your chair. You clicked on it to see if his username is tagged and thankfully it did. His profile was more low-key than low-key, just some pictures of his guitars, a group picture and a name, HYPHENIX.

The university's campus is louder and lively than it needs to be. The courtyard buzzing with laughter and talks of people huddling together to make memories. People walk in with their little groups, coffee in one hand, backpacks slung over their shoulders, carefree like they've already figured out how to survive here, like they know they belong here. You pass through them like wind brushing past one's hair, your head down, hands clasped around the straps of your backpack. The hallway isn't any better, students rushing to get to their respective classes, some frantic, some lazed out. There's echo of shoes, heels, sneakers, boots, which remind you that you are walking with them, just not beside. Voices overlap, laughter resonates, lockers being slammed shut and class door's daring you to knock and enter. Everyone seems to have somewhere to be, someone to text, someone waiting for them to join and you just wheeze past them, not invisible entirely just easy to miss.

You're halfway to your class when you hear someone call out your name, turn around and smile softly at your best friend, Ava, short for Avalyn, to catch up to you. "Where are you running off to?" You take off your headphones and place it inside the case, "my morning class Ava! You got free time?" She shook her head, her keratin smooth hair swaying slightly at her movement, "I'm trying for cheer squad remember? I'm going for a practice session to get through the audition." You nodded your head in understanding, she had been trying to have a spot in the cheer squad for a while now, she's good at it you think, but you guess popularity plays a key role in getting into the team.

She continued to walk by your side as she gushed about how she's getting better at cheering, you listened to her, that's what you usually do. You bid her goodbye and enter your class. The class went on as usual, nothing out of ordinary. You took notes of the things the professor said, then quietly packed your things to leave. You were placing the headphones in your ears when your eyes landed on a figure standing a few feet away from you, your steps halted and there he was, Jay. He was leaning against a pillar, nodding his head at the person talking with him, one hand raking through his already messy hair. His other hand was holding onto the strap of his guitar case.

You watched him from the entrance of your class, occasionally sliding your finger on your phone screen to appear busy as you stole glances at him. Your eyes blinked a few times, not really believing the sight in front of you. He barely spoke, just nodded along the conversation with a blank expression on. He hadn't changed much, except he was now taller, his features more sharp, and more mature than you last remember. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, maybe it was because you saw him after so many years or maybe because he hadn't left your mind even once since you had a talk with him at that high school party.

He reminded you of the past version of yourself which you haven't really forgotten. A small crowd gathered around him, he sighed heavily. His eyes scanned around the area, you hid yourself behind the door of your class. You peeked from your place, your breath caught. He didn't notice you, of course he didn't. He excused himself as he started walking towards the opposite direction, the crowd following close behind him and that's when it hit you, how far both of your lives had drifted. There he was, in the spotlight, surrounded by people who admired him while you stood behind the class doors, in the shadows, wondering, watching.

"Where are you?" Ava's voice rang through your headphones as you ordered your coffee from a local coffee shop. You paid the cashier and thanked him as you made your way out of the shop, "at the coffee shop, I'm going out for a bit." You could imagine her pouting on the other side of the phone, her voice whiny, "why are you going out alone? I would have loved to accompany you, don't forget you have me by your side okay?" You pursed your lips as you nodded at her words then realizing she couldn't possibly see you, "I know Ava, but I can't always depend on you right?" She opened her mouth to protest, "you can depend on me, I'm your only friend." You frowned but didn't disagree with her, it was true that she was your only friend, she has been the only one who saw you and has been by your side since the university started and you're glad that she stood beside you and helped you.

"I'll make it up to you okay?" She squealed at your remark, hanging up the phone before informing you about her nail appointment, your eyes unconsciously fell on your own hands, maybe you could get a manicure too. High school was hard after your breakup, with no one by your side but you got through it alone. Now, as you were older and wiser than your high school self, you started to enjoy your own company too. You sipped your coffee as you walked down the street, your feet leading you nowhere in particular when your eyes landed on the familiar mop of hair down the street. You stopped in your tracks, closing your eyes, you shook your head, when you opened your eyes there was no one in sight. You sighed, you're starting to hallucinate about Jay now, it wasn't good for your heart.

You continued your way down the street, ears picking up angry voices across the alleyway. You looked at your surroundings, not many people walk around nowadays. You told yourself you were just stretching your legs, but truthfully curiosity took the best of your senses and guided you across the alleyway where the voices became more clearer as you walked closer. You stood in the corner, your eyes squinting behind your glasses to take a closer look. "I want you to focus on your academics too, Jay. We don't want your silly little hobby to come in the way of your career." Your brows furrowed when your heart a high pitch feminine voice and a name so familiar you could write in your sleep.

You crane your head to get a glimpse of the scene. There stood Jay, his head hung low as he avoided the eyes of two older people, presumably his mom and dad as they lectured him in front of their car. "Your music is taking up more of your time than your academics, don't forget you're going to be the hire of our business, the sooner you realize this the better it will be for you." Your heart sank as they went on and on about Jay's choices and how disappointed they are at him. Your eyes followed his parent's car as it left, then trailed towards the boy who now was crouched down on the road. He took a few rocks from the ground and threw them across the road, his face visibly contoured with hurt and anger.

You took a step forward before deciding against it. You were eavesdropping, which you were sure wasn't welcomed with the scenario that unfolded right in front of your eyes, but watching him slump against the concrete wall, head between his hands, you wanted to comfort him, just like how he did when you were at your lowest. You wanted to help him, encourage him to not give up on his love for music just to satisfy his parents but with the image he had built around himself in the campus, it was impossible for you to just randomly show up to him to console. He would kill you with his stare before you even opened your mouth, so you decided to stay in the shadows and help him with his issues. By being a secret admirer, the book girlie inside of you was dancing in excitement.

Early morning in the campus was just how you imagined it would be, it carried a quiet kind of hush which felt too sacred to disturb. The sun had began to rise not long ago, casting long golden rays across the campus building, few of the students were scattered around the campus, you walked through the hallway which was nearly empty save for some lone students with headphones on or a book in hand, your footsteps were light but quick as you occasionally turned around to check in your surrounding. Your hands tightly clutched around your bag as you overworked your brain to map out the locker room in the building. You relaxed when you found the large 'Locker room' sign hung upon the metal rod, your eyes scanning the area nearby before entering inside.

Few of the students were busy with their own things inside the room, none of them paying attention towards you. Your eyes scanned the area, feet moving towards the locker you were determined to find, you causally scanned the names on the lockers, totally nonchalant if anyone asked you. Your steps came to a halt when you came across the 'Park Jongseong' locker. Peeking your head at the entrance to check anyone's presence one last time, you hurriedly took out the letter you had neatly packed inside an envelope and slid it inside the locker from the small gap that was present. Your hands trembled, heartbeat erratic as you stepped away and started walking towards the cafeteria, your head hung low as you zipped your bag.

You saw Jay pass by you with one of his band members, Heeseung, the vocalist as both of them animatedly chatted about something. Your eyes followed his features, he seemed to be far more relaxed as he laughed at something Heeseung said, that laugh almost reminded you of the night of the party. You wondered what they were doing in the campus early in the morning when your eyes landed on the new notice on the notice board along with various other banners which decorated the walls of the hallway. You stepped closer to have a clearer view of the notice displayed, Symphoria 25, the widely known college fest of your university.

Your eyes went back to Jay and Heeseung who were now entering the locker room, their backs turned towards you. Symphoria, you'd heard a lot about the college fest, it draws in thousands of people not just from the campus but from the city and beyond. A perfect opportunity to showcase your talent and get exposure. Maybe Jay and his band had started early morning practice to perfect their art for the fest, it was inevitable that they would participate in the fest. You checked the time on your phone, you still had a good 20 minutes before your class started so you made your way back towards the locker room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jay to see if he got your letter or not.

The hallway had started filling in with the usual chatter of students, as soon as you were about to enter the locker room you caught Jay coming out of the room and in a reckless way to avoid facing him you turned around to run in the opposite direction. But luck wasn't by your side and your leg slipped and you fell, right in front of Jay, and his friend Heeseung. "Are you okay?" You recognized Heeseung's voice as he extended his hand for you to take. A few of the students gathered to watch the commotion. Your head was hung low, and you prayed the universe to swallow you whole instead of letting you face humiliation. You held Heeseung's hand to stand up, then immediately let go and hid your face with both of your hands.

Heeseung chuckled at your antics, finding your embarrassed self quite endearing, he looked at Jay whose eyes were trained on you, a subtle frown adorning his face, lips pursed together. Jay tilted his head as he watched, you peeked from the gaps in between your fingers, head still down, your eyes caught the sight of your letter in between his fingers, the letter still sealed neatly. "Hey don't be embarrassed, things like this happen every time," you turned towards Heeseung, your hands still on your face as you nodded at his words and bolted out of the place and towards your class.

Heeseung's eyes followed you till you turned around the corner, confusion etched upon his face like a question scribbled in a language he wasn't proficient in. He turned towards Jay, who was also looking at the direction you just ran to, his expressions blank but with a hint of curiosity behind his eyes. "I guess she was too humiliated to wait and talk, I genuinely thought she did this to have our attention," Heeseung broke the silence, making Jay look towards him. Now one would paint Heeseung as a stuck up individual after what he said, but it wasn't a regular sight for any of their band members to not have girls lining up to have a conversation with them, you'd be the first to avoid them all together. He was genuinely confused with your actions.

Your footsteps echoed off the walls of the hallway in frantic rhythm. Your hair sticking on your face and bag bouncing off your side. You reached towards your classroom door, slowing down just enough to avoid getting slammed on it. You slipped inside and scanned the room for an empty seat. Your chest raised and fell as you sat on an empty seat, you took deep breaths to look composed but the flush of your cheeks and the way your hands gripped the edge of the desk betrayed you. The professor entered the class and began the lecture but your mind drifted off towards the incident that happened back in front of the locker room. You slammed your head on the desk lightly to avoid attention, grimacing about how humiliating the incident was.

"You look tired, did you not get enough sleep?" You glanced towards Ava, who was happily munching her food while her doe eyes stared at you, "Yeah, couldn't sleep." She pouted at your words, shoving your shoulder lightly, "you should take care of yourself more, you worry me so much, you don't have anyone else other than me who takes care of you." You smiled awkwardly at her statement, internally grimacing. Her words are always sweet like honey, the kind that drips with warmth and affection until you realize what comes next, like she's trying to convince you that your light only shines when she's with you.

Your eyes wandered towards the cafeteria door when students started talking in hushed whispered and gasp, there they stood Heeseung, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon, the four members of band, HYPHENIX. Ava followed your gaze, vast smile etching on her face, "aren't they just dreamy? You think Sunghoon's single?" Your head turned towards her instinctively as her voice reached your ears, "since when are you interested in them?" You don't remember her gushing about the band before, sure they were pretty popular but Ava was too obsessed with cheer to ever focus on anything else. She just shrugged, not bothering to reply, you frowned, following her line of vision where Jay was seated with his bandmates.

Your breath hitched when you spotted the familiar looking envelope in Jay's hand, the seal broken off, he had read the letter. Your eyes traced from his hands to his face, watching, observing, like you always do. Jake was talking about something while nudging Jay, Heeseung throwing his back as he laughed and Sunghoon just shook his head, amused by his friends. Jay smiled softly, his eyes still trained on the letter in his hands, playing with its edges gently. You haven't seen him smile like that ever since you saw him, his expressions always so distant and reserved, one would think twice before approaching him. You could tell you weren't the only person to witness it when you heard whispers around you.

"Wow I never knew he could smile like that!", "so the icy guitarist of HYPHENIX knows how to smile?", "is that a letter in his hand? A love letter maybe?", "didn't think of him as the romantic type."

You turned your head back towards your food when you felt Jay's gaze travel towards your table, you hid your face by keeping your palm over half of your face. "Oh my Jay's looking towards me," your eyes met Ava's as she exclaimed happily, gathering attention from a few of the students sitting nearby. More whispers started arising after her exclamation cause indeed Park Jay was looking towards your table, at who? You weren't sure. Your mind unconsciously drifted towards the time when you fell down in front of Heeseung and Jay, and you hoped he didn't remember how you looked.

"Yah Jay you keep on looking at the envelope like it will come alive and tell you who sent you this..." You were making your way towards the last class of the day when you heard Jay's name, looking up you saw the music room sign above the closed door. You walked towards the half opened window trying to listen to what they were talking about. From where you were perched up, you could see Jay's side profile, Jake standing in front of him, you could see half of Sunghoon's face and Heeseung's back, all huddled up with their respective instruments in their hands. "I really wanna know who wrote this, I mean their words hit so close, it instantly lifted his mood as soon as he read it," Heeseung followed as others nodded. Your heart skipped a beat, you stepped away from the window. They said he loved your letter, that it instantly lifted his mood. You smiled sheepishly, a new skip in your step as you made your way towards your class.

Maybe you could continue to support him like this, silently, from afar, without the fear of getting rejected. He would be aware that there's someone who silently has his back, and you wouldn't have to worry about being the center of attention. And that's what you did, you wrote letters for him, every week. Words you couldn't say out loud found a home on paper wrapped in a plain envelope. You poured your admiration, your care, and all the quiet things you felt into the letters. You slipped them into his locker, or tucked between library books you knew he'd borrow, each note was a small piece of your heart, anonymous but sincere. You watched him smile at the words, never knowing they were yours. He would sometimes write back to you, placing his letters inside the library book he last borrowed and when he would come and check the next time, he would smile at its disappearance. He would know you got his letter when you'd mention it in your next one. And somehow, that was enough.

And the campus was big but apparently not big enough to keep your little secret in between you and him. It wasn't the letters that caught everyone's attention, it was him. Jay had always been stoic, guarded, the kind of person who kept people at arm's length, never too close but lately that shifted. He smiled more, his posture relaxed, he didn't shoot anyone with his icy glare for merely talking with him. He lingered longer near his locker, reading something in his hands. His bandmates noticed the recurrence of the letters first then few of his admirers. Questions flooded in their minds, was the guitarist of HYPHENIX finally seeing someone? Who would be the lucky person to capture the heart of someone who never showed interest in dating? And If he was getting interested in someone then who's this mystery person?

And then one afternoon, someone overheard Jay talking with Sunghoon, his voice low as he murmured something along the lines of, "I received yet another letter today, they just know what to say to make my heart skip a bit." Hushed conversations between close friends, fell upon wrong ears and soon enough the campus buzzed with new gossip about this secret admirer of Jay. The talk wasn't about Jay anymore, they were more about what made Jay change, about the anonymous person who poured their heart out on the letters, about how the coldest guy on the campus might have someone who has enough warmth that melts his walls. And how maybe, just maybe, he was starting to care about those letters more.

With each letter you wrote, your feelings for him kept on getting more intense and with all the gossip surrounding you about your own letters you wondered how Jay would react if he ever found out who was behind those letters. It didn't help that Ava seemed to be getting more interested in Jay's love life than focusing on her cheerleading auditions. You had to constantly hear her gush about this mystery admirer of Jay and how an anonymous person was getting more recognition than she ever could even if she tried her best. "Popularity shouldn't be your goal, being good at what you do should be!" You remember explaining this to her when she kept on complaining about how privileged the popular people are with everything.

She wasn't wrong entirely, everything around the campus depended upon how good you were with something and ultimately how much audience you bought with it. Maybe she wasn't wrong about not getting into cheerleading yet because she wasn't famous enough to make the cut and not because she was just decent enough for the sport. Ava is attractive, has friends from every block of the campus, yet she somehow always sticks to you. She goes to parties, easily becomes the center of the room but somehow it's not enough, it's never enough. There's always someone who is prettier, more talented, more popular who steals her show and you get her. Perhaps that's the reason you let her guide and lead your university life instead of trying and failing to meet new people who would befriend you.

For the next few weeks when you walked down your campus, every corner was slowly transformed into a living stage. The air surrounding last-minute rehearsals, buzz of sound checks vibrating against your ear drums, every corner of the university was filled with excitement. Symphoria wasn't just a college fest, it was an emotion, a movement held towards rising artists and their talents. By day the fest was filled with different stalls, and artists showcasing their raw talents to sharpen it for the night show. By the time the night arrives, the main stage would come alive with performances that shake the ground. You were excited to attend the last show of the fest as it was the night HYPHENIX would perform, the most talked about and most awaited performance of the whole fest.

You made your way towards the locker room early in the morning to place the letter inside for Jay to read before his performance. This time though, you had bought a little bouquet of red roses to cheer him up a little with a note that is addressed to him in case someone else misplaced it. You couldn't open his locker enough to put the flowers inside so you decided to keep it above the locker. You walked out of the locker room before anyone could see you, leaving letters inside his locker had gotten a bit difficult with all the attention from the campus. Yet you woke up extra early to not get caught and cheer Jay up for his performance.

You made your way towards the library to finish the rest of your assignments, dropping a message to Ava about meeting you in the cafeteria during lunch. You sat down, opening your laptop to get started. The library was relatively empty, not many students were in the mood to study when there's literal fest going on around the campus. You wondered if Jay will even have time to open his locker today, you heard they had been practicing extra hard for this performance. Lunch time rolled around but Ava still didn't reply to your text, you tried calling but no answer so you ate alone. You made your way towards the locker room to check on the flowers and letters, when you reached there was none, it made you smile at the thought that he received it before his performance just how you wanted.

The evening started off with a blast, you made your way near the left side of the main stage. You look around to find Ava in the crowd and even send a few messages of your location in case she decides to find you. You frowned at her behavior, she was so excited to attend today's show, some of her favorite people were performing, not to forget her constantly ranting about being excited to watch HYPHENIX's performance. They were the last act to perform, everyone from the campus gathered around to watch you with banners in their hands. You crane your head to see if they are coming.

They walked on the stage, your eyes landed on Jay and suddenly the crowd didn't matter. They got in their position, the noise faded, the lights dimmed around everyone else but them and you stood frozen in your spot, eyes never leaving his silhouettes. Heeseung led up to the mic, the crowd erupted, waves of cheers and reckless energy filled up the air, but your eyes were locked on Jay. Jake, the drummer chimed in and suddenly the world was nothing but sound. Jay's guitar and Sunghoon's keyboard roared to life, drums thundered beneath your feet, and the music hit you like a memory you didn't know you'd been holding onto. It wasn't just some random noise pieced together, it was emotion, pouring from the stage and crashing into you like fire and rain.

You watched them, the way their fingers moved on their instruments, how Heeseung's voice danced a high note, how they closed their eyes like the song was something they felt, not just performed and in that moment, it felt personal like somehow, they were singing straight to you. The lights flashed on the stage, the chorus soared. People around you screamed and swayed, but you stood still, like you were spellbound. It was more than music. It was a moment you didn't want to end and in that moment, nothing existed but the stage, the sound, and the feeling of you falling deeper and deeper for Jay.

You felt a wave of emotion so overwhelming that tears strung in your eyes, their performance ended and they bid their goodbyes. The crowd cheered, you were sure they would be the talk of campus if not city for a whole year. Jay looked happy as he made his way backstage and before you could think your feet led you towards the back of the stage to catch a glimpse of him, it was one of the important parts of his musical career after all, you could at least muster up the courage to congratulate him. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be bad to introduce yourself into his life as someone he once met at a random high school party. You were about to enter backstage when a volunteer bumped into you, all the papers in his hands flying everywhere. You managed to apologize to him as you helped him with the papers but your eyes were somewhere else, in search of a person you couldn't get a hold of.

You made your way deeper into the back of the stage, volunteers and performers going on about their works. You located Jake and Sunghoon at the far corner of the stage, Heeseung sitting close beside as they wore brightest smiles and talked with each other about something. You tried finding Jay, your heart beating fast as you tried finding someone who would tell you about his whereabouts. "Uh-hello, do you know where Jay went? The guitarist from HYPHENIX?" The girl randomly pointed towards the exit of the backstage, you thanked her before following the direction she gave. As soon as you were out of the door, the coolness of the night air made you shiver.

Your footsteps slowed, the moonlight casted a soft glow on your face, yet it was still relatively dark. You took a step forward, then another, then you heard voices, familiar and close. Your steps halted when you caught two silhouettes standing close to each other, then your world stopped. One second they were talking, Jay and Ava, the next second his hands were on her neck, pulling her close. Ava stepped forward, her hands reaching for his shirt to stabilize herself. Your hands didn't drop your phone, but it slipped a little in your grip as your breath stilled. A sharp pain sliced in your chest, the silence of the surroundings more louder than the ringing in your ears.

It felt like someone pierced their hand in your heart and squeezed it without any care, like your soul has been ripped apart without any warning. You felt the kind of pain that didn't echo, it throbbed in your chest, deep and ugly. You blinked once, twice, then again for good measure, hoping and praying this was just an illusion, a misunderstanding but it wasn't. It was real. Jay and Ava, kissing each other like the world around them didn't exist anymore. You stood there, watching him hold her like he's afraid if she let go she'll disappear. Your eyes landed on the bouquet of red roses in Jay's hand, the one you brought for him, confusion and hurt etched upon your face, unable to comprehend anything.

Neither of them noticed your presence, they didn't see the way your hands trembled and how your lips parted slightly like your body was trying to breathe through the ache in your heart. They didn't see the way your eyes glossed over with a kind of hurt you knew would take years to heal. You took a step back, suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, the distant sound of people leaving the campus, the humid air, the floor beneath your shoes. You turned around, mind still hazy, eyes unfocused, you stepped on an empty water bottle. Then you hear a soft call of your name, you shut your eyes closed as if it would somehow help you disappear from the unwanted moment you tried to avoid. You heard footsteps coming closer and decided you couldn't possibly excuse your way out of this uncomfortable situation so you took a deep breath and turned back around.

Your eyes landed on Jay before they could even acknowledge Ava, he tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he watched you. Ava's voice broke your attention from him, she made her way towards you, her arms enveloping one of yours as she beamed at Jay. "This is my best friend Jay," He smiled in your direction, your heart skipped a bit and Ava continued while looking at you, "I told him the truth, that I wrote those letters for him, I couldn't help myself from confessing to him after today's performance, you are proud of me right? I finally got the love of my life." You never once broke your gaze away from Jay as you listened to Ava go on and on about something which you both know she didn't do. You silently listened to her take the credit for the things you did, Jay's smile was wide as he looked at Ava and just like that you couldn't bring yourself to tell the truth.

"Let me drive you both home, it's too late to go by yourself." You sucked in a breath, your head turned towards Ava who nodded enthusiastically at Jay's suggestion. "I'll manage to go by myself, I don't really live too far," Jay shook his head at your words, "It's my responsibility to take care of my girlfriend's loved ones, wouldn't dream of getting on your bad side." Ava chuckled at Jay's words as she leaned against his arms, his own hands slipping on her shoulder pulling her close. You felt like throwing up, you needed answers. Jay pulled out his phone to inform his band members that he'll be leaving first and joining them later.

Reluctantly you agreed with Jay after Ava forced you to say yes and now you were seated in the back of Jay's car as you watched him act lovey-dovey with his supposed secret admirer. Ava's home arrived first and Jay got off to kiss her goodbye, you sighed, lending your head on the window wondering how you were supposed to get through with this. Jay entered the car, you were still sitting on the backseat. He eyed you from the rearview, "I think I've seen you before." You looked at Jay when you heard his voice, contemplating on whether to tell him that he did see you before or not, "well, we go to the same campus...." You trailed off softly, not really minding if he could hear your answer or not, your mind was haywire with everything that happened today anyway.

Jay took one last look at you before shaking his head, chuckling lightly and agreeing with your words. You sent a quick text to Ava about wanting to have a talk with her about the stunt she pulled and she replied she'll tell you tomorrow. You felt the car come to a halt and you straightened up, eyes taking in the familiar surroundings of your apartment, you thanked Jay but he stopped you. He got out of the car and towards your door and opened it, "you don't have to do all this, Jay." But you smiled at his sweet gesture regardless and got out of his car. He bid you goodbye and went off as you watched his car retrieve from your apartment's parking lot.

You couldn't sleep the whole night, mind racing with all sorts of things. The sight of them kissing each other playing in front of your eyes like a mere flashback from a dream you wish you never had, cruelly brought to life. You tossed and turned in your bed, but neither the tears stopped nor did the hollow feeling creeping up your chest. You decided you can't take it anymore, your fingers tapping on Ava's number before you could think. It was late at night, her parents were probably asleep but they always had a soft spot for you. She picked up the phone on the last ring, her voice groggy.

"What are you trying to do? We both know you didn't write those letters..." you heard some shuffling from her end, "right I didn't, but who cares?" You frowned at her nonchalant answer, "the one who wrote the letter might come forward and expose you Ava, it won't end well for you, did you not hear how Jay is?" She groaned at your words, "well if the person was brave enough they wouldn't have pulled this secret admirer shit, I need Jay to get in the cheer team, this is my chance." You sighed, rubbing your forehead as it had started aching, "your relationship is based on lies Ava, it won't do you good, trust me. You're hurting someone else while trying to reach your goals-"

"Don't nag at me, I've already taken the leap so there's no going back, I like Jay and I want to be with him so let it go...just for once, for me, let it go please..." you sighed but stayed silent wondering if you were strong enough to watch Jay be with Ava when she clearly was using him just to gain popularity while pretending to be you, Ava continued when she didn't hear anything from your side, "I'm your best friend, I never asked you to do anything for me, please ignore what I did just this once, I'll treat him right I swear." You cut the call after talking to her for some more time, things got messier than they were supposed to be, and you wondered how things will unfold from now on.

Earlier attending university was something you looked forward to as the constant chattering of students, the latest gossip, the various events and classes helped you ignore how lonely you actually were. But now everywhere you go, there is at least one person talking about the perfect couple Ava and Jay. You tried your best to ignore but you couldn't as Ava started gaining popularity now that Jay won't leave her side whenever he isn't with his bandmates. And you, despite wanting to lay low and finish your degree quietly, were unwillingly dragged into the Ava-Jay love drama since you were her so-called best friend.

Being best friend of not so famous Ava was hard, but being her best friend after she got famous was harder. People randomly started approaching you to gain latest information about their relationship or how they behave out of the campus. They bombarded you with questions about Ava and what she liked and disliked, like you were some kind of assistant they could get information from. It was annoying, and downright disrespectful. You never wanted the spotlight but even if you did, you knew you wouldn't be happy by being labelled as someone's girlfriend's best friend. It was inconvenient at first, then it became blatantly dehumanizing when people started suggesting Ava to be with someone of her 'level' that you were just some charity case of a friend for her. What hurt you the most was Ava's reactions to those things, she just laughed with them, like she couldn't see how disrespectful people were towards you. So naturally you tried your best to ignore her and her 'well-wishers' all together.

"Come on, don't be like that! Jay has told me to make sure you'll be present at the celebration party of their successful performance at the college fest, you know how big of a deal it is for him and his friends," you continued typing your essay as Ava sat on the edge of your bed, begging you to attend the party. "I'll see if I can go...I'm not sure though..." she stomped her feet as she made her way towards your desk, hands sliding into yours to get your attention on her, "please? We haven't spent time together since so long," you sighed, releasing her hold from your hand, "it's because you're always so busy with your cheer, or Jay, or your new friends and not because I don't have time for you."

"It's not like that, you don't like being around people, I can't always cater to your needs right? You should be considerate towards me too, you're so mean," you close your laptop after saving your document and look at her as she begins gathering her things. "I didn't mean it like that Ava-" "I'll give you space, you don't seem to be in a good mood, think about your decision, I'll wait for you at the party and if you won't come I won't go either." You opened your mouth to say something but she was already out of the door. You put your head in your hands as you pulled at your hair, deciding sleeping would be best for now since you had class in early morning.

Attending early morning class felt like stepping into a world half-asleep. Your brain lagged behind as the professor went on and on about topics you were too tired to pay attention to. One of your hands grip on the coffee cup like your life depends on it and other drawing doodles on the margins of the notebook you had opened to take notes. Your eyes hurt and stifle a yawn, thanking the universe when the professor concludes the class. You check your schedule, there's still a 30 minute gap before your next, maybe you could get a refill of your coffee to go on about your day. You smiled to yourself when you stepped out of the class, feeling accomplished that you managed to survive the morning class as you made your way towards the cafe near your university for your daily dose of coffee.

"Hey!" You turned around halfway through the campus when you heard someone call out to you, "in a rush?" Jay waved at you as he made his way towards you, his guitar slung over one shoulder, his smile was easy-going as he finally stopped right in front of you. Sweat formed in your hands as you gulped, "you need something from me? I haven't heard from Ava since yesterday so I don't know where she is..." He laughed slightly, motioning you to continue your walk as he stepped beside you, "no, I'm not here to ask you about Ava, though I know I used to do that a lot but I'm here to talk with you about something else." You looked at him then immediately looked forward because how can you be this close to him and act sane? You adjusted your glasses on your face in nervousness.

"Then what are you here for?" He looked at you, biting his lips in thought and you tore your eyes away to not stare for too long. "For the party...." you halted your steps when you reached the cafe, Jay opened the door and held it for you. You meekly thanked him before entering the cafe, "what about it?" Jay ordered his coffee and you ordered yours, he paid for both the drinks before you could even open your bag to get your purse. "After our performance at Symphoria, we've got quite a few gigs and events to perform at, not to forget it's the day Ava finally confessed to me about writing those letters," you suck in your breath as both of you made your way out of the cafe and back into the university's campus.

He continued, "those letters have helped me a lot, I was going through a tough time but they helped me so much, and they also inspired us to deliver that performance at the fest. So the success of that performance means a lot to my bandmates, me and Ava alike, and since you're her best friend, I need you to be a part of it." He took a few strides forward and turned towards you making you stop your walk, "please? Attend it for me?" You sighed, attend it for Jay? Now you could do that, but you weren't sure if you'd be able to watch them without losing your sanity. "I'm not a party person, Jay and it doesn't help that Ava has other friends to be with, she won't always be by my side and I don't want to hold her back.."

He shook his head dismissing your words before you could elaborate further on how pathetic you'd look trying to enjoy the party alone, a party you don't even want to be at, "I'll be by your side then, all throughout the party hm? I'll make sure you won't feel lonely, I promise." He held out his pinky finger in front of you and if you were being honest he looked so silly you wished you could click a picture but you just sighed, eyes switching from his hands to his face, he looked at you expectantly, "I take pinky promises seriously," the corners of your lips twitched a little as you raised your hand to lock your pinky finger with his. He pulled you close, grinning widely, "thank you for coming, Ava and I would love to have you there," he ruffled your hair before jogging off towards the university's music room.

You faced the mirror, one last time, running your fingers through your hair, you opened your phone, Jay's and Ava's messages lying one above the other, both reminding you to not forget about the party. You fixed your glasses, a hint of irritation seeping in your features as you scanned your reflection, if you ditched your glasses for looks then you won't be able to enjoy the party in HD, but the glasses made you look like the loser you always need to read about in your books. You huffed a breath, reminding yourself about your no more stereotyping rule, your phone started buzzing. You looked at the caller ID, Ava.

"Hey!" You put your phone away from your ear to recheck the called ID, still Ava, "hello?" You questioned as you chew on your lips, "it's me Jay...Ava's phone was in my hand so I called you from her phone, I asked Sunghoon to pick you up from your apartment and I think he would reach in 10 minutes or so, I just called to inform you that.." you heartbeat quickened after hearing Jay's voice, then you registered the words that left his mouth, "Sunghoon? In 10 minutes? I could've taken a cab, he didn't have to leave the party for me, I feel bad." You could hear the music blasting in the background and you wondered if he could even hear you, "nah, I wanted to come pick you up myself since I invited you but my hands are full right now so I asked Sunghoon, and I don't want you to travel alone in the dark, it's not safe out there. See you soon, Ava and I are waiting for you."

You stood in front of your apartment building awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for Sunghoon's car to pull up. He didn't take much time, arriving fairly on time. He got out of his seat, his height making you take a few steps back so you don't have to hurt your neck while talking to him. He gave you a smile, his eyes landing on your heel-cladded feet before they locked once again with your eyes. You subconsciously tuck your hair behind your ear, blushing up your cheeks under his intense gaze. He offered you his hand, and you held it after looking at it for two seconds too long. He led you towards the passenger's seat, opened the door and guided you inside the car. You thanked him, a giddy smile plastered on your face as you reminded yourself that this was the supposed bare minimum, but then your thoughts went back to the same high school party where your then boyfriend didn't even look at you, much less open doors for you.

Sunghoon's car reflected his personality, sleek, dark, and polished to perfection. The smell of leather seats of the car mixed with a faint scent of his cologne, and music turned low enough to barely register. You fasten your seatbelt and watch him start the car from your peripheral vision. He didn't say much, and from the time you've noticed him you realized he wasn't a man for many words but whenever he did speak, the attention would be on him. You let yourself relax on the seat and he glanced at your movements briefly. "Thank you for picking me up, you didn't have to, but thank you regardless," You saw him shake his head at your words, a small, barely visible smile dancing on his lips, "it's fine, wouldn't want a pretty girl like you to travel alone at night." You choked on the air, shocked at his words, he laughed loudly, his fang-like teeth showing just enough to make you question if he was just teasing or being serious.

"You're teasing me, didn't think of you as a type to do that," He looked at your pouty face briefly before his attention went back onto the road, "you're easier to tease somehow, but I wasn't teasing when I said you're pretty." He didn't look at you to see your reaction, but your eyes were trained on his profile. His skin was pale, smooth like porcelain under the car's light, his lips full and precise, there was a cold grace to him, and even when he said nothing, he seemed to speak in presence, posture poised, expression unreadable, a flick of his gaze enough to silence a room. He got out of the car when he reached Jay's apartment where the party was in full blast, he helped you get out of the car and led you towards the main door of Jay's house.

"This place feels familiar," you mutter under your breath, Sunghoon looks at you, his head tilted in your direction, leaning in slightly to hear you better over the gradually increasing noise of music blasting through the speakers as you walk. You shake your head at him, laughing awkwardly as you try to figure out the weird feeling in your stomach. The door bursts open even before Sunghoon's hand stretches enough to open it for you, and your breath is knocked off as Jay stands in front of you, an easy going smile etched upon his face. "I'm glad you're here..." he smiles so bright that it's almost impossible to not mirror his smile, like he's genuinely glad you're there to celebrate. "I had to be," your eyes wander off towards Sunghoon who is now standing beside Jay, leaning on the doorframe watching you two, "you left me with little choices to make."

Sunghoon lightly chuckled as those words left your mouth, shaking his lightly at your silent jab at Jay's stubborn behavior he made his way inside the house, leaving you standing alone with Jay. "Where's Ava?" You questioned when you didn't find her waiting for you beside Jay, he sighed, head turning back to look towards the ongoing party, "she must be somewhere, I still have her phone on me, but she's nowhere to be found." You frowned hearing his statement and he quickly made space for you to enter the party, "she gets like that after drinking, she wanders off and suddenly you lose track of her." Jay chuckled at your response still his eyes scanned to room for his girlfriend's presence.

"Jay?" You softly called him, he hummed in return leaning slightly towards you to hear you better. You held your breath as you looked at him, his eyes still wandering across the room to find Ava but then slowly his eyes turned towards you, your lips twitched when his eyes locked in with yours and you gulped before continuing, "go find her, you don't really have to be by my side all night." Jay chuckled at your words, straightening up, he hooked his index finger on the bracelet of your wrist, "well you don't have anything else to do so please help me find my beloved girlfriend," and he pulled you with him into the crowd.

You take in the scene, you spot some familiar faces in the crowd, laughing, drinking, talking with each other. Your heels tap against the floor and you walk exactly behind Jay as he makes room for both of you to walk. The lights flicker in bursts of neon, casting an exciting glow on the crowd. The buzz of conversations rise and fall, people too drunk or too indulgent in the mood to care about the surroundings. You catch a glimpse of Jake talking with some people, beside him Sunghoon and Heeseung are involved in deep conversation about something only they know. Your eyes fall upon where Jay's finger is hooked upon your bracelet, a sigh leaves your lips and in a moment of distraction your shoulder bumps into someone and you lose your balance slightly.

You hold onto Jay's shoulder with one hand to regain your balance and he stops in his tracks, eyes narrowing towards the person you stumbled into, "try to look where you are going next time." The person just waves his hand, mumbling apologies incoherently as he backs off towards the opposite direction. You feel Jay's hand curl around your wrist, firmly and when you lift your head up, he's already looking at you. "You walk in front of me now, you're wearing heels, if you sprain your leg it will hurt like a bitch." You laugh slightly at his tone, his hand pulling you gently towards him and he positions himself right behind you. He's still holding your wrist, his other hand giving your shoulder a slight push to get you walking.

He's so close behind, you could faintly feel his breath on your shoulder. Your eyes scan for your best friend and you turn around towards Jay when you spot her sitting in a corner with few people, drinking happily and laughing with her whole body, "she's there, I think you should get her, I'll get something to drink for myself in the kitchen." Jay's eyes follow the path your finger is pointed at, he sighed in relief, nodding in your direction and making his way towards her. You don't have the courage to watch him go towards her so you make your way inside the kitchen, your hand tracing the spot which Jay held not too long ago. You poured yourself some soft drink, not really in the mood to drink just yet.

"Are you a baby?" You flinched slightly, turning to your side only to find Sunghoon leaning against the counter not too far from you as he poured himself a drink. Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, he looks at you, slowly making his way close to you, "only babies drink soft drinks." You roll your eyes, free hand fixing your glasses. He chuckled lightly, amused at your behavior. "I'm not a baby Mr. Park," he laughed loudly, "that's exactly what a baby would say, your pouty lips and puffed up cheeks aren't helping your case pretty." You immediately straightened up, lips pursed and face blank as you gave him a deadpan look, "I'm not a baby..." He turned around towards the counter, he mixed a few drinks from the table and slided the red solo up towards you.

"You don't seem like a type to drink frequently but trust me with this one, my friends say I'm quite good with drinks." You throw him a suspicious look, hand curling around the cup, you bring it closer to your face to inspect. "What are you both ?" Your head snapped towards the voice, Jay and Ava joining you two as Sunghoon settled beside you, his drink already half empty. "I'm trying to get her to loosen up a bit, she's always so tense." Jay's eyes narrow at his friend's words, "you don't have to drink if you don't want to," You shake your head at Jay's words and you're about to reply when Ava cuts you off, "oh my god! I've tried to get her to start drinking but she always declines me," then her eyes fall upon Sunghoon, a faint smirk forming on her lips.

"I literally made this in front of her, will you try it for me pretty? Just a taste, you won't have to continue to drink it if you don't like it." Ava's smile fell as soon as Sunghoon's attention shifted from her to you, his eyes soft as he looked at you expectantly. Jay sighed from where he was standing, his hand sliding across Ava's waist as he leaned his weight slightly on her, "Sunghoon, if she's not comfortable-" Sunghoon's hand reached forward towards your hand, which was sporting the red solo cup, he gently curled his fingers around your hand and brought the cup towards his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you as he took a sip from your cup, "there, I'm alive, now your turn, just a sip pretty."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding, fingers trembling slightly under Sunghoon's. You brought the cup near you, eyes darting around the other three before you took a tentative sip from the drink. Your eyes widened, a smirk forming on Sunghoon's face, "it'd good right?" You nodded your head with more enthusiasm than you initially wanted to show. Sunghoon laughed, releasing his hold from your hand, eyes falling upon the couple in front of him with smug confidence, "I told ya I'm good at it." Jay gave you a small smile, "you sure you like it?" You nodded your head again, taking yet another sip from the cup and gulping down the whole drink. Sunghoon whistled slowly, feeling proud of himself.

Ava looked at you, "you never drink when I offer...you're so rude and mean to me." Jay sighed pulling her closer, "some people need guidance during their first drinks baby, Sunghoon is good at that. It's not about her being mean to you." From where you stood, you could tell Ava wanted this conversation to go like it did with other people, with them agreeing to every word that spilled from her cherry lips, "want me to make you another one?" You tore your eyes away from Ava and turned towards Sunghoon, "please? This is the first time I'm actually enjoying a drink." And just like that, the night stretched ahead, you smiled to yourself, anticipation settling deep inside you for the night.

"You're tipsy, how many drinks did you have?" You were perched upon the balcony, looking over people who were playing in the pool and around it when Ava's voice cut through the silence. You hummed, standing up and leaning against the railings to have a good look at Jay's house. Your eyes trailed towards the other side of his backyard where people were roaming around, casually. "Is that a gazebo?" You muttered to yourself, leaning in more, squinting your eyes, your glasses slipping off a little. "You're going to fall down if you keep on leaning on the railings like that," you looked down towards the ground, Jay waving off his hand to signal you to back off a little.

"I won't fall," you yelled back, laughing as you fixed your glasses back. Jay shook his head, one hand on his hips while the other massaged his temple, "come down, bring Ava with you." You pouted at his words but still stepped back, holding Ava's hand in yours, you dragged her towards the pool. "Hello ladies, wanna go for a swim?" You smiled at Jake when he approached you both, you released Ava's hand when Jay stood by her side. "Don't wanna," Ava whined as Jay tried to persuade her to join. You looked away, smiling at Jake as you swayed a little, he chuckled at your dazed out state and offered his hand for you to hold. "I'm good though, I don't need your support, but since you're being so nice and offering me your help, I'll take it." Jake laughed as he guided you towards the edge of the pool.

Heeseung joined you and Jake, offering you water, "you wanna go for a swim?" You denied Heeseung's suggestion, eyes looking at the pool as you pouted, "I can't swim." Jake mimicked your expressions, but he looked like a kicked puppy more than a sulky one. You laughed, stepping forward and pinching his cheeks, "you're cute Jake." His eyes widened at your actions before turning into an icy glare when Heeseung slumped forward trying to control his laughter. Jay, Ava and Sunghoon joined you three as the boys teased Jake and occasionally your non swimmer self. You felt at ease, you were expecting to be crying in your apartment by now but you were glad it wasn't like that. None of Jay's friends left you alone, each sharing some moments with you. And by spending your time with them you realized why they are so likeable.

You were sitting on one of the chairs by the pool, Ava still beside you. The boys were already playing in the pool, your eyes drifted towards Sunghoon and Heeseung who were now seated on the opposite edge of the pool making fun of Jake who was now being chased by Jay for trying to drown him. Sunghoon's eyes locked with yours and his lips moved to say something, in your own haze you couldn't comprehend what he was trying to say so you got up, edging closer towards the pool, "what did you say?" Sunghoon laughed at your confused self and you pouted. He opened his mouth to repeat what he said when you felt a pair of hands press hard against your back.

Your heart stuttered, feet losing contact with the ground. Your confusion quickly turned into terror and the next thing you knew, your body hit the water. The water was colder than you expected, it swallowed you whole. The noises of the surrounding vanished, replied by a deafening silence. Your hands flailed, legs kicking in panic. Your lungs felt like they were going to collapse, your mouth filled with the taste of chlorine and fear. A pair of arms circled around your waist, pulling your body towards the surface. You gasped as you were finally able to breathe, your chest aching. Someone took off your glasses from your face, your hands grabbing onto the person's shoulder like you were afraid they would let go.

You felt someone else chiming in to help, pushing you on the edge as few people surrounded you. Your vision slightly blurry as you tried to ground yourself, "Ava are you crazy? Why would you push your own best friend into the pool when you clearly know she can't swim?" You were sure that it was Sunghoon who yelled at Ava for her reckless behavior, your head turned towards your left to see Jay by your side, one of his hands was cradling your head while the other removed hair from your face. You turner your head towards the right where Sunghoon was still going off on Ava, her shoulders slumped as she tried to reason out, "I thought it would be fun-"

"Fun?" Ava's eyes turned towards you, her eyes widening at Jay's sharp tone. He helped you sit up straight, Jake crouching beside you to wrap you in a towel. You shivered, because of the water or Jay's expression, you didn't know. Jay helped you get up and sit down on the chair, your legs trembling slightly. His hand slipped around your waist. "Is this your idea of fun, Ava? She could've gotten into serious trouble if I wasn't swimming near her." You looked at her, wishing to find remorse in her eyes but all you saw was humiliation and anger as she glared at you. She turned around, making her way back into the house.

"I'm so sorry about that, you aren't hurt right?" You shook your head, lips trembling slightly, "I'm fine, just a little shock that's it." Jay nodded at your words, sighing as he took in his surroundings. "You guys go enjoy the party inside, I'll take care of this." He motioned Jake, Heeseung and Sunghoon to lead the crowd back inside. "Take care of yourself, yeah?" Sunghoon requested before going back inside with everyone else. "You aren't responsible for her actions, plus she didn't mean to do it in the wrong way, she's always been like that..." Jay's eyes snapped towards you in lightning speed, "that still doesn't mean what she did was right, you could've gotten seriously hurt."

You shivered again when the wind passed by you, your head was starting to spin. "I'll bring you some dried clothes, you'll catch fever otherwise," You nodded at his words, your chest and throat aching. Jay lifted your face with his hand on your chin, your breath hitched at the proximity. He slipped on your glasses, adjusting it on your face for you. "Thank you," you mumbled, not daring to say it louder, "I can see you clearly now." Jay laughed, losing his balance on the chair, you extended your hand and he happily grabbed it to balance himself. "I'm glad you can see me now." You laughed with him, amused by everything that unfolded in today's party.

You were perched on the bench beneath the tree on the university's campus. Scrolling through your phone in search of something to distract you while you wait for your next class to start. You looked up at the tree above you, its green leaves falling upon you inconveniently. You packed your belongings back in your bag, pocketed your phone and remembered you had to borrow some books from the library for research purposes. "You seem to be so at peace after wreaking havoc in my life," you turned towards the source of voice, frowning at the way Ava walked towards you, eyes scrutinizing your presence. "What are you saying?"

"The pool wasn't even that deep, Jay and his friends were swimming in it just fine, why did you have to overreact like that, do you even know how much Jay has been lecturing me about that incident?" Ava huffed as she reached near you, crossing her arms and waiting for your reply as if you were a murderer waiting for your conviction. "They could swim just fine because they knew how to swim, if that's your logic why didn't you jump in the pool? You also don't know how to swim right?" Her expression flattered, hands going on her hips as she scoffed at your words, "you know I care about you, I didn't do it because I wanted to harm you, yet I'm the bad guy here, how would I know you'd end up like that?"

You rolled your eyes at her words, but the slight pity in your heart for her was overpowering your senses, "why would you even push me there in the first place?" She stomped her leg, pouting at you as if you denied her favorite candy, "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, tell Jay and his friends that you forgave me okay? Bye." You opened your mouth to say something but she was already walking away from you. Finding the boys wasn't very hard considering they spent most of their free time in the music room. You took in a deep breath before you knocked on the door. You pushed open the door, peeking in to see if it was occupied, Jake was the first person your eyes landed on, beside him sat Heeseung, both of them pausing mid-discussion. Sunghoon sat a few feet away, hands on his keyboard and beside him sat Jay, his guitar on his lap.

You stood at the doorway, not exactly sure why you even decided to entertain Ava's idea but you did it, so she won't have another reason to whine at you and also because you wanted to have some reason to be near Jay, even for a while. "Don't stand there looking like a lost puppy, you planning on coming in?" Your internal monologue ended quickly as Heeseung words rang in your ears. You awkwardly shuffled inside, closing the door behind. "Um-" You started, internally criticising yourself for not thinking through before you entered. Your eyes wandered towards the boys sitting in the room, four pairs of eyes, all focused towards you.

"Come sit here pretty," blush rose upon your cheeks as Sunghoon pointed towards the empty chair beside Jay, you nodded sheepishly, and made yourself comfortable. You were about to start saying something when your eyes landed on them, everyone just went back on doing what they were doing previously like you weren't present there at all, your brows furrowed in confusion and you wondered if you should say what you wanted to say or just slip out of the room. "Guys-" And just like that, everyone's attention was back on you, "yeah?" Jake urged you to continue and you shifted in your seat to turn towards Jay.

"I just wanted to say that the pool incident wasn't that big of a deal, things like that happen when you're trying to play pranks with your friends anyway," you laughed awkwardly, "I don't want you to be upset with Ava because of that." There was a brief moment of silence after you finished what you wanted to say, the silent stretching long enough for you to start rambling again, "she's a very good friend, she has always been by my side when I had no one, she can be a bit childish at times but she's sweet at heart-" "Are you trying to tell that to us or yourself pretty?"

"You, ofcourse." You answered quickly, but fidgeting with your hands was a dead giveaway of your real feelings. Jay put his guitar at his side, sighing once before turning to look at you, "did Ava ask you to do this?" You shook your head no, one hand raising to fix your glasses in place. "I saw you talking with her-" "Oh my God, you did?" "I was lying but you busted your own lie with this one." Your shoulders slumped in defeat, "okay maybe I did come to you because she told me but I was about to do that regardless." You blinked at them, smiling and waiting for them to say something, "you wounded me, we thought you wanted to hangout with us." Your eyes widened at Jake's words, "why would I want to hang out with you guys?"

Heeseung's hand clutched his heart, slouching forward as if it physically pained him to hear that sentence leave your mouth, Jake's hands flew on his mouth, Jay had an amused grin on his face and Sunghoon just smirked, "I'm sorry we aren't cool enough for you to hangout with us pretty.." he laughed watching color drain off your face. "No, it's not like that- I mean- wait you guys- you're twisting the plot, I'm not Regina George!" You sulked slightly, crossing your arms as you watched them topple over laughing at your panicked state, "I just wanted to say that I did not think you guys would want to hang out, since you know...we aren't close, I'm just Ava's best friend."

"You could be my best friend if you want," Jake smiled, throwing an exaggerated wink in your direction, you laugh as he threw his finger hearts. "Seriously though, you're not just Ava's best friend, you're fun on your own okay? Why wouldn't we want to hang out with you, we literally let you in the music room without further interrogating you!" A genuine smile tugged at your face at Heeseung's words, which stretched into a full blown grin when the others nodded their heads in agreement. "And what Ava did was wrong, and she should have apologized to you then and there but she didn't, which was again, very wrong of her." You couldn't bring yourself to deny Sunghoon's words.

Your eyes fell upon Jay who was silent all through this portion of conversation, he sat still, eyes unfocused as he stared ahead, his brows furrowed. You could tell he was listening but had his mind somewhere else, "Jay?" Your soft voice brought him back from his thoughts, he looked into your eyes, "Let's just move past this, guys..." and no one could bring themselves to debate with you further. "It's my birthday in two weeks, we're planning a trip, I was hoping you'll join us.." You pointed your index finger towards yourself, as if anyone inviting you for their birthday was something you had only thought of in your luxury dreams list, Sunghoon gave you a deadpan look, "who else?" Yeah that gave you the answer you were looking for.

The trip to Jay's birthday arrived more quickly than you could decipher. Jake informed you that the trip was more like a staycation on Jay's vacation home, from the moment you arrived at Jay's vacation home you knew you've stepped into something exquisite. The gated driveway winds through lush green gardens until the villa reveals itself, the sleek architecture, coastal elegance and everything about it screams luxury. As Jay pushed open the grand double doors, you're greeted by high vaulted ceilings, polished marble floors, and floor-to-ceiling glass panels that blur the line between indoors and the shimmering ocean beyond, you could hear Ava gasp from where she was standing beside you, Heeseung just chuckled, nudging you to go forward.

The scent of the ocean lingered in the air, and Jay informed everyone about their sleeping arrangements. "Everyone gets their own room?" Jake chuckled at your bewildered, stepping closer to help you put the luggage in your room. You made your way through the open-living room plan towards the first floor where your room would be. You, Heeseung and Sunghoon would be sleeping on the first floor whilst Jake, Jay and Ava would be on the ground floor. When everyone was done checking out the interior, your footsteps took you towards the exterior of the house, where the real magic lied.

A pathway of natural stone leads directly to the secluded beach. The sand is soft, untouched and the water crystal clear. There was not a single soul in sight, only the rhythmic lull of waves and the occasional cry of a distant seagull. "Wow, baby! This is literal heaven," your eyes wandered towards Ava who was now clinging onto Jay's arms like he would disappear if she let go. He smiled back at her, ruffling her hair as he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. You looked away, towards the beach where waves crashed into the shore in a gentle kiss. Your chest tightened, a small frown appearing on your face unintentionally. "You good pretty?" Sunghoon nudged your shoulders with his, his gaze trained towards the serene beauty in front of his eyes. "Yes I am-" "Let's see the beach from up front," before you could reply to Sunghoon you felt yourself getting dragged towards the beach by Ava, Jay shouting behind you to be careful. You looked back, Sunghoon giving you an amused look before retreating his steps back into the villa.

Jake called you back after sometime, deciding that since it was already late, everyone could eat the dinner and sleep away the exhaustion to properly enjoy tomorrow. Everyone wordlessly agreed, too tired to explore further. Everyone bid their goodbye. You went into the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water before you went back into your room, your footsteps light. You poured yourself some water, taking a water bottle with you since you felt too lazy to get out of your room again. You slowly made your way towards the staircase leading towards the first floor when you heard light giggles. Your head turned towards the voices instinctively.

Jay had Ava backed up against the wall in between their rooms, their limbs tangled together with a quiet urgency. Jay kissed her like he was falling, fast and fearless and she kissed him back like she knew how to catch, but never intended to. Jay's hand moved from her waist to the door handle, opening it and backing Ava into her room. The door clicked shut behind them, and you still stood there, watching, like you always did. You gripped the bottle tightly, heart heavy and hollow at the same time. You made your way inside your room before your tear could manage to escape. The door clicked shut behind you with more force than you intended but you didn't care, not at this moment when the world around you felt like it was caving in.

"Someone help me with the drinks!" You yelled out to no one in particular as you watched everyone just beeline towards the beach. You put your hand above your head, eyes squinting at the sun. You internally thanked yourself for opting to wear lenses instead, beach and glasses would be a disastrous combination, "let me help you.." You turned towards Jay who slowly made his way towards you. He smiled, taking the box of drinks from your hand and signalling his head towards the lighter box instead. "I would've asked the boys to help with these, you didn't have to help with this." You shook your head, adjusting the box in your hands, "no worries, but if I collapsed right now, tell my parents I died a hero."

Jay's eyebrows rose at your remark, a slight smirk gracing upon his face, "by carrying a box of drinks? How noble. I would crave 'Gone too soon- by a box of Cola' on your tombstone." You huffed a breath, "are you sure we are not hazed? Why does this feel like a punishment?" Jay grinned clearly enjoying your suffering, "I think they went in first to avoid this exact trouble, we were set up." You just shook your head at his words, setting the boxes near each other, Jay ruffled your hair, then Ava called his name and he waved at you before running towards her.

The sun is warm against your skin as you step into the soft sand, the ocean glittering ahead. Around you the world felt lazy and dripped in golden hue but you couldn't shake away the heaviness of your heart. Jake and Sunghoon were already waist-deep in the ocean, calling out the rest of you to join them. Heeseung reclined on a lounge chair, under a fluttering umbrella. Oversized sunglasses perched upon his face as he smirked at the boys playing in the water. Your eyes travelled towards Jay and Ava, who sat a few feet away from you on a shared blanket, their silhouettes framed by the glow of the sun. Ava leaned into him, laughing at something he whispered in her ears.

You knew it was better to look away, that ignorance was the only choice you had in this situation, but you couldn't bring yourself to do that. But your eyes stayed fixed on the way his fingers gently brush a strand of her hair away from her face, and how she leaned her head on his shoulder like she belonged there and maybe she does. You watched as Jay lay down on his stomach, and Ava on her back, his eyes closed as his hand circled around her waist. You wished you could just walk up to him, sitting beside him as your fingers traced your name on his back, not to claim or to mark but to belong, even just for a fleeting moment. But you don't move, you just watch as she calls his name when he runs off towards the boys to play in the water.

"You aren't getting spared just because you are busy daydreaming in your own world, pretty." You screamed as you felt Sunghoon pick you up bridal style and run towards the beach as he spoke. "Yah, you know I can't swim." You tried kicking your legs to get him to put you down but there was no real fight in your attacks, "I know, that's why I'll be near you when you play! Trust me pretty." And with that Sunghoon jumped into the water with his still in his arms. Jake and Heeseung joined you two and helped you with splashing water on Sunghoon's face.

"You're doing good pretty, just hold onto me tight." Your hands were on Sunghoon's shoulder while he had his on your waist as he guided you deeper into the ocean. You shrieked when you couldn't feel anything beneath your feet and his hold tightened around you, his arms now circling around your waist as he pulled you close. Jay watched both of you pinch Sunghoon's ears for his clumsy actions, something twisted low in his stomach and he couldn't explain why watching you both play together made his fingers tighten around Ava's waist. "Jay, it hurts." His attention went back to his girlfriend who looked at him with a questioning gaze, he shook his head, his fingers soothing the skin on her waist as a silent apology.

"Alright, it's enough for the day, let's get back to have dinner." Your head turned towards Heeseung's voice, you walked up to him, others following close behind. "Had your fun?" He asked, one of his eyebrows arching as he spoke, you nodded your head as both of you fell into a casual conversation. "Okay how about we split the chores?" Ava groaned as Sunghoon's suggestion, clearly displeased. She leaned her weight on Jay, blinking up at him as she pouted, "I'm too tired to help..." Sunghoon scoffed unintentionally and Jake's coughed in his elbow to mask his laughter. "You just laid there on the beach and did nothing but you're tired?" Jay threw a glance at Sunghoon, clearly intending to make him shut up, then he looked at you, his eyes soft, "both of you go rest, we will call when everything's ready okay?"

Ava lit up, reaching up to kiss his cheek she ran inside the house and into her room, without a single glance towards the mess everyone was left with. You heard Jake sigh softly beside you, looking at the mess, hands on his hips. You stepped closer, bumping your hips with his, "how about Jay and Heeseung take care of cooking, Sunghoon can take care of collecting the empty drink bottles and both of us will clear the garbage?" He grinned at you, clearly pleased with your suggestion when Jay's voice cut through the air, "we will handle it, you should go and rest, you helped earlier too." You shook your head at his words, "I want to help, so please let me, and the more people are helping the sooner this will be over." You smiled as you pushed Jake towards the cleaning supplements to get started.

"Wow this took longer than we thought," you straightened your back, nodding your head at Jake's complaints. The sun had set and the moonlight casted a soft glow on the ocean. The streetlights were turned on and everything looked straight out of a movie. "We're done with dinner!" You looked at Jake who mirrored your smile, "first one to reach the kitchen is the loser!" You said as you ran towards the kitchen, Jake followed close behind as he complained about you getting a headstart. You laughed when he reached the kitchen first, giving Heeseung a jumpscare when he bumped into him. You laughed at his proud face, enjoying yourself more than you thought when Jay's voice cut in, "Ava's still sleeping, I'll bring her dinner later, let's get fresh and then we will eat."

Dinner was spent with Sunghoon and Jay's bickering while Heeseung just laughed at his friend's banter. Laughter echoed over clinking cutlery, voices overlapping and plates passing with casual affection. "I literally said the first person to reach the kitchen is the loser." Sunghoon laughed loudly at Jake's bewildered face, his eyes round and big as he looked at you, "you're so mean.." You reached out and ruffled his head, cooing at his whiny self, "your fault for not listening properly." He slumped against the chair, giving you faux glasses as other's made fun of him.

"We're sleeping early?" Jay questioned when everyone started complaining about being tired, a gentle frown etching on his face as he looked at you all. Sunghoon nodded his head, "Ava hasn't eaten since afternoon, so feed your girl, we will sleep too now, all the cleaning is finally creeping up on me." Heeseung, Jake and you religiously nodded, making Jay sigh as he prepared a plate for Ava and made his way into her room. "Let's get the cake and other things ready, I believe he will be occupied enough till we get things done," Heeseung whispered as soon as the door clicked shut behind Jay and everyone started preparing for the birthday boy's surprise.

"Okay, I believe we are ready, are we ready?" Jake whispered, box of cake in his hands, beside him stood Heeseung and Sunghoon who had party poppers in their hands. You were given the responsibility to record the moment. You focused the camera on the cake, then slowly backing away to capture all three of them in a single shot. You softly giggled looking at them, a big grin plastered on your face as you recorded them. All four of you were wearing birthday hats, and you couldn't help but coo at how cute the three boys looked. In one of your hands were two birthday hats, one of them extra large since it was meant for Jay. You looked at the timing, signalling them it was time for all of you to huddle outside Ava's room.

You knocked on the door, waiting patiently for Jay to open it. You wondered if giving Jay a surprise while Ava wasn't involved in it was a good idea or not but the plan to surprise was spontaneous, the one which you made while you were cleaning, later Sunghoon informed Heeseung about it when he found him alone. Ava never got out of her room, so you figured it wasn't anyone's fault she wasn't involved. Your heart drummed against your ribs, mind swirling with thoughts that if you catch them in their intimate moments, you couldn't bring yourself to handle that scene again. But all your thoughts flew out of your mind when the door swung open and Jay emerged from the door looking confused.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY JONGSEONG!!!" All four of you screamed, confetti flying everywhere as Jay laughed, completely amused at the little surprise his friends pulled. Sunghoon took the large hat from your hand and placed it neatly on Jay's head. Ava emerged from the room, her hair messy and she was barely awake. You passed the phone to Heeseung and placed one hat on her head. Jay cut the cake, and the rest of the night was filled with questions from Jay about the surprise and what all went down while preparing. Heeseung apologized to Ava for excluding her from the surprise as he explained how the plan was spontaneous and no one got any opportunity to approach her. She smiled at him as she waved his concern off, but when the little party was almost over you could feel her mood getting sour as she looked at you.

You got comfortable on the bed, sighing in relief as your body relaxed. You turned to your side, pulling the blanket closer, you slipped into sleep the moment you closed your eyes, body too drained to resist it. For a while everything around you stilled, the noise, the thoughts, even the time. But after few hours, something stirred, and your eyes blinked open, heart and mind racing. You're half-awake, half-dazed, your body begging you to just go back to sleep. You tried going back to sleep, but it was too late to go back to how it felt before. You got off from the bed and made your way downstairs, maybe Some fresh air would help you with the sleep.

You stepped out of the villa, the air around you lighter and cooler. You made your way towards the narrow stone path, leading you towards the quiet overlook by the cliffside, where the ocean stretches endlessly below. The sky opened with each step you took, you breathe in the air, the wind gently caressing your body. "What are you doing here this late?" You jumped slightly, heart skipping before your mind caught up but you didn't move. Jay stepped beside you, leaning against the railings of the overlook, his eyes trained on your face as you looked ahead. "Couldn't sleep," you whispered, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment.

"Something's on your mind?" You finally looked at him, his shirt was slightly crumpled, hair disheveled, his fingers twitched once before he clasped his hands together in stillness, his gaze was hard even though he looked composed from the outside, "you're angry, what happened?" The words left your mouth before your brain could catch up and your lips trembled as he locked his eyes with you. "I'm not angry," he stuttered lightly, clearing his throat and you looked away, biting your lips. "It's Ava right? Wanna talk about it?" He sighed, looking up towards the sky then back at you, contemplating whether he should talk to you about it or not.

"She got angry at me since she couldn't wish me at sharp 12..." You eyes widened at his words, disbelief gracing your face at the sheer absurdity of the situation, he looked at you, sitting down and motioning you to join him, and when you did, he continued, "I was so shock, she was in a sour mood, she wasn't even looking at me when I tried to approach her so I asked her till she told me why she was acting that way," you silently listened to him, feeling bad that he got into such situation on his birthday, "she has always been like that, there was a time when I didn't pick up her call at 12 AM sharp on my birthday cause I slept and she didn't talk to me whole day," you chuckled lightly.

"Is laughing your type of coping mechanism? Considering she's your only friend, and she didn't talk with you on your birthday, doesn't that make her a bad friend?" His questions caught you off guard and you coughed to reduce the awkward tension it rose in the air. "She'll come around, Jay." He looked at you like he was trying to search for some answers he knew you wouldn't verbally give him, "can I share something with you?" His voice was soft as he asked you that and you nodded your head, not finding the courage in you to decline his request. "You're the only person I'm sharing this with, I know you're her best friend so you should probably be the last person I'm saying this to, but from the time I've known you, I know there's no one better than you who would understand me...."

You nodded your head at him to continue, he looked around, his shoulders slumping slightly, "I feel like the Ava in front of me is so different from the girl who used to send me letters..." your stomach dropped at his words, you didn't say anything, you kept your face still but your inside twisted but still you forced a hesitant nod, "like she's very sweet, but the kind of person I imagined her to be, the kind of person I fell for is so different from the reality. We have our sweet moments but they don't feel real to me," he played with his fingers, head hung low, "whenever I try to talk to her about the letters she diverts the topic by saying what matters is the present, her letters always used to see through me, I felt seen in those letter, I didn't even have to say anything but her letters told me they understood regardless, but it isn't the same anymore, it feel so unreal."

"Jay," you sighed wondering what words would even bring peace to his heart, you wanted to tell him the truth, that it was you who wrote those letters and not Ava, but you couldn't bring yourself to confess that. "You're her best friend but I keep on complaining about her behavior to you, don't snitch on me," he pointed a finger at you, "please?" You laughed at his actions, "I won't tell her about this, I promise." He looked at you, eyes squinting as if he didn't believe in your words, "pinky promise?" You stretched your pinky finger towards him and his eyes lit up as he hooked his pinky finger with you.

Jay looked at the ocean in front of him, "relationships are more complicated than I thought they would be." You nudge your shoulders with him to cheer him up a bit, "tell me about it..." you rolled your eyes, standing up and extending your hand to him, the sun would start to rise after sometime and it would be better if you head back so you'd have enough energy to travel back home tomorrow. He held your hand to pull himself up, dusting his pants a bit. Both of you just walked back in without any conversation, the silence more comfortable in between you. "Let's grab something to drink before we go to bed," you nodded, letting yourself be a little bit more selfish for wanting to spend time with him.

The light of the refrigerator drapes a soft glow on his face, highlighting the curve of his sharp jaw, the way his lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks, his messy hair which somehow still looks perfect to you. And he looks calm, thoughtful even like your heart isn't shattering into pieces right beside him. You took a few steps back, leaning against the counter, pretending to look at something on your phone but your eyes are trained on him. On the way his brows squint slightly to decide which drink to choose, the way he quietly mumbles to himself as if he belongs to a place which is softer, quieter. And you love him. God, you love him.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, try to tear your eyes from his frame, to have some mercy on your heart. You wish you didn't feel this way, wished you never wrote those letters and kept your love hidden deep in your heart. You wished he would just turn around and look at you like you aren't just his girlfriend's best friend but someone who was actually meant to be his. And he turns around and looks at you, flashing you a quick smile, and it shatters you because it's the kind of smile he gives to everyone, and not the one you're dying to get, the kind he has reserved only for Ava. But you smile back, you pretend like you're not falling apart under refrigerator light for a boy who has no idea what he has gotten himself into.

He makes his way towards you, now handing you a soft drink and leaning right beside you. He takes a sip, humming lightly as if he hasn't tasted the same drink countless times today. "So," he started, putting the drink on the counter and turning towards you, "did you break up with your boyfriend?" You choked on the drink at his random question before calming yourself, "what boyfriend?" You tilted your head as you waited for him to answer, he just shrugged, "the one who humiliated you in my birthday party some years ago in high school." Your jaw dropped before you could stop it, "you remember that? And it was your birthday party?"

He nodded his head, finding your reaction amusing, "I was wondering when you'd say something about it but you didn't." You opened your mouth to say something but closed it again when you couldn't find the words, "so did you break up with him?" You nodded your head at him, "yeah, just after I reached home, I broke up with him and never looked back. I realized it after so long that deep down I knew he wasn't treating me right, I just wanted someone else to remind me of that and you did." His eyebrows arched at your words, his lips twitching into a smile, "guess you owe me a big one then," You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder a bit, "in your dreams Jay."

He laughed at your words, now taking both of your drinks and throwing it in the bin, "I'm glad that I met you, I don't think I'd be here if I didn't meet you that day." He smiled softly at your words, turning towards you, he stepped closer, "I'm glad you're here too, I feel so relaxed right now, it's amusing really..." you tilt your head at him, "what's so amusing?" His eyes went back and forth from your face then to the ground a couple of times, wondering if he should say what he wanted to, "hm? Jay?" He sighed, clearing his throat a little bit, "this," he said, waving his hands in between you two, "what's this?" You chuckled, finding his hesitation endearing. "This thing in between us, it feels," you stepped closer, nodding your head at him to continue, "it feels what Jay?" "Real. It feels real."

"Pretty I feel like Jay's birthday this year is going to be very eventful," you and Sunghoon were sitting on the kitchen island, eating fruits, Ava insisted Jay to spend some alone time with her before you go back home so they were out, Heeseung and Jake were still sleeping. "Why's that?" You questioned as you took a bite of watermelon. "Jay said Ava was upset we didn't involve her in the surprise, which doesn't make sense cause Heeseung apologized for it and gave her genuine reason, right?" You nodded and he continued, "but I believe they got into an argument or something, Jay's been tense but he said that Ava wanted to throw a surprise for him too, all alone, and he agreed because he said it would make her happy."

You hummed in response, knowing well that Ava has a habit of bringing attention towards her in any situation, so it was inevitable that she would ask Jay to do something like that. Surprise for Jay sounded good too, they had been dating for months so she must've had something in her mind. "Let her have her moment, despite the reasons we could've texted her or something but we managed within ourselves so let her show her love towards him the way she wants." Sunghoon nodded, silently agreeing with you as he ate the apple, "I hope everything will go well, she didn't even ask any of us for help," you sighed at his words, praying everything would go well.

Now you're dressing up for the surprise Ava had planned for Jay, she called everyone to the living room when both of them returned from their little outing and informed everyone to dress up nicely after you reached back home and meet in her parent's house since they were out on a business trip, he seemed quite excited about it. You hoped it would live up to his expectations and not end in yet another argument. You sighed watching yourself in the mirror, one hand holding the glasses while the other the lenses. You put the glasses down deciding lenses would be a great option if Ava or for that matter anyone else thought about pushing you into the pool again, you'd at least be able to see your downfall clearly.

You asked Ava if she needed your help and she just shrugged, declining your offer and throwing a snarky comment at you, something along the lines of, "wouldn't want anyone else to take credit for what I am going to do for him." And you just hummed, not wanting to trigger her more by reminding her that of course she'd fear someone else taking credit given that she has done the same to date Jay. Those words sounded very rich coming from her, the hypocrisy was astonishing. You texted Sunghoon the address of Ava's parent's house and asked him to forward it to the other boys.

Your eyes fell upon the clock, and you grabbed your things, booking a cab and texting Sunghoon that you'd reach the house in 20 minutes. He texted a thumbs up emoji, informing you that they would arrive at the house around that time too. You leaned against the car seat, watching the other vehicles pass by you in a rushed blur. Your heart thumped in your chest for some reason and you took a few deep breaths to calm the nerves down. It was inevitable you'd feel anxious, it's all you had been feeling ever since Ava started dating Jay, you were mentally preparing yourself to watch them being all lovey dovey in front of you without having a breakdown yourself.

You arrive at the house, a small envelope in your hand, the evening sky painted in hues of pink and yellows. When you reached the door of the house, you could hear faint chatter from inside the room. You hesitate, glancing down at the envelope with Jay's name written on it and then back up at the faint lights flashing through the living room's curtains. You frowned, texting Ava about your arrival, you twisted the door open after you got a signal from her and stepped inside. You were still standing near the entrance of the house, the house was pitch dark, but still you could hear some murmurs, more clearer than before.

The door behind you swung open, the night air brushing your skin as you turned around to find Jay hesitantly step inside, one hand clutching his phone and the other the door. His silhouette was half-hidden in the shadow. Behind him stood Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jake, anticipation etched on their faces. Someone behind you switched on the lights and Jay blinked, first because of the lights and then towards the crowd in front of him. You heard someone gasp from behind you, "Jay is here," and a loud chorus of "SURPRISE" erupted in the previously silence-filled house. Confetti exploded through the poppers, the music volume rising up like inflation.

Ava's shoulder brushed against yours as she ran towards Jay to hug him, he hugged her back, blinking in confusion. The other three entered the house from the corner, Sunghoon throwing a worried look towards Heeseung who silently hushed him. Jake's eyes locked with yours as he passed by you, then he turned towards his other friends to whisper something. Jay smiled tightly when Ava dragged him towards the mini stage where she kept the cake for him. And his eyes found yours before Ava cupped his cheek to give him a birthday kiss. The music stopped and Ava gathered everyone's attention, "Today's my lovely boyfriend's birthday so first we will cut the cake and then we can continue with the celebration."

Loud cheer erupted at her words, you kept your gift on the corner where everyone else kept theirs and made your way towards the mini stage where others were already present. Ava cheered loudly, a bright smile adorning her face as she took off the cover from the cake, a towering, picture-perfect chocolate cake, glossy with ganache, topped with sparklers and gold-letter candles spelling his name. His smile flattered for a second before he masked it with his politeness. "Ava," he whispered quietly, eyes darting towards the people watching each of his actions in anticipation, "I'm allergic to chocolate." You could see the color drained from Ava's face as she looked around at others. "I ordered a vanilla cake, the bakery may have misplaced my order." She pouted, clinging onto his arms as other people gave her words of sympathy that it's the thought that counts.

You were sitting on the couch beside Sunghoon, in front of you sat Jay and Ava, the music blasted in your ears, but you could still decipher the conversations going around you. Jay tapped his foot repeatedly against the ground, his shoulders tensed as he took a sip from his cup. "You're repeatedly tapping your foot on the ground, if you wanna dance, you could've just said so, come on, let's dance." You could see Jay froze at her words but didn't really resist when she dragged him towards the dance floor. You watch as Ava laughs, all bright and confident, clearly proud of the party she has thrown. You could see her dress sparkle and sway with her. One of her hands was clasped around Jay's wrist and the other waved the crowd off to make some space for them.

You could see the way his shoulders sank when he reached the center of the dance floor, the way his eyes were scanning the room, over the crowd as if he was checking the exits. Ava pulled him closed, dancing around him carefree and unbothered. She turned around to face him, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer, she leans in for a kiss and he obliges, people cheer around them, flashing on camera making you blind. And he laughed when they pulled apart, hands on her waist as she sways. Your heart tugs a little, with sadness or jealousy you aren't really sure, cause you know Jay prefers to spend his birthday around his loved ones, intimately and not amongst the crowd. You know, because he had mentioned about it in one of his letters.

"You do realize he is not the one you're supposed to be looking at, right?" You jumped at Sunghoon's voice, "huh? What?" He shook his head as he leaned back on the couch, your eyes following his actions, "Jay," he started, taking a look at him briefly before looking at you again, "you aren't supposed to look at your best friend's boyfriend with that intensity in your eyes, what happened to the girl code?" You choked on the air, rubbing the area just above your chest to soothe your breathing. "I'm not staring at him," you glared, clearly caught off guard by his observation, "yeah and I'm Michael Jackson," you rolled your eyes, leaning against the couch, "you're reaching, I was just looking at them dance together," Sunghoon smirked leaning close to your face, "without blinking? Was their dance that admirable?"

You groaned throwing your head back, you could hear Sunghoon chuckling at your misery from beside you, "this isn't the first time I saw you staring pretty..." you turned your head slowly in his direction, he smiled lightly, eyes full of emotions or was it the effect of alcohol he was drinking? "Hm?" He sighed, resting his head at the back of the couch, mimicking you, "I saw how you look at him, at the music room, at his house during our celebration, at the villa, at the beach, the time when he served you dinner," your gaze was fixed on his face as he went on and on about all the times he had watch you fawn over your best friends boyfriend. You couldn't bring yourself to deny all his observations, not when he wasn't looking for your approval anyway, he had observed you and was just stating what he saw.

"Your eyes are so predictable, pretty," He said after he didn't get any response from you and saw you looking away. There was not a single bite in his words, he didn't accuse or blame you for being a bad friend. Your eyes met his again, you couldn't find any sharpness, or any judgement, just softness, like he understood where you were coming from without you having to say anything. Your heart swelled with something you didn't quite understand but felt overwhelmed, "are you always this annoying?" Your words were softer than you intended them to be, and he just smirked, putting his hand on your shoulder, "only when I'm onto something." You sighed but didn't resist his embrace, "you're not onto something, Jay's my best friend's boyfriend." His other hand made its way towards yours to play with your bracelet, "he is, that doesn't mean you wish things were different though." You let me play, eyes lingering on the veins of his hands for a second too long, "I didn't say that," "You didn't have to."

"Where did they go?" Your eyes followed Sunghoon's line of vision, "probably in Ava's room to make out or something," you mumbled quietly but he caught that, "you're not going to sit here and sulk," he said grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours, "no girl gets to stand beside me and feel like a loser, that shit is reserved only for boys." You wanted to say something but decided against it when you couldn't think of anything smart to say. He dragged you towards the dance floor, his hands circling around your waist, he abruptly pulled you close, your hands grabbing his shoulders in response. "Focus on me tonight, who knows, tomorrow you might forget who Jay is."

You rolled your eyes at him, hands now comfortably resting around his neck as both of your bodies swayed with the rhythm of music. The night had stretched on, the music settling to something slow and soft. One of his hands slid up to rest against your back, while the other rested snugly on your waist. His actions pulled your body closer to his, from this distance you could count all the moles that were scattered across his face, the curve of his lashes, the point of his nose, and his lips. You gulped, feeling heat rise up in your body at the proximity. You tried looking away but he held you in place with his gaze. You were sure he could hear your heartbeat from how close you were.

One of his hands lifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he looked at your face for any signs of discomfort, his knuckles grazed your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered close and you leaned into his touch. His breath hitched, taking shallow breaths his hand now cradled your cheek, fully, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. You sighed softly, leaning more into his touch as if leaning felt safer than speaking. You felt him inch closer, your nose barely grazing against his, you could smell him, the faint scent of detergent which lingered on his shirt, his shampoo, and something so achingly Sunghoon. Your breath flattered, syncing with his, for a moment both of you just breathed each other in.

His lips meet yours, softly, no urgency, no rush, like he's taking his time to learn the curve of your lips, a little hesitant, like he was giving you time to back out if you want. It was the kind of kiss that communicated his soft sighs and gasps, one that lingers at the back of your mind even after years. His thumb caressed your cheek, his actions meant less for comforting you and more for anchoring himself and for a moment everything single thought from your mind disappeared. Then his thumb suddenly froze mid-motion, he pulled away slightly, enough to look at your face. "You're crying pretty..." your eyebrows furrowed at his words and you opened your eyes, his thumb caught another tear which fell from your eyes but he didn't press further.

"I'm sorry..." you choked, unable to comprehend the reason behind your tears. You wanted to kiss him, and you did, but you couldn't figure out why the tears started to flow. The hand on your cheek, slid up to the back of your neck and he pulled close. You buried your head at the crook of his neck. "It hurts so bad, hoon." You aren't even sure where it hurts badly, Ava's lie, or watching her living the life you only imagined in your dreams, or the fact that even if Jay knew it was you, it wouldn't have bloomed into something so precious. "Shh, everything will be okay, you don't have to pretend in front of me." His fingers tangled in your hair as he drew soothing circles on your head. You nodded your head, pulling away a little from his embrace and from the corner of your eyes you saw Jay furiously walking down the stairs, his shoulders tense.

"Sunghoon," you pulled away from him and he brushed the remaining of the tears with both of his hands, "Jay." You pointed your finger towards his figure, he shoved people who came into his path, his steps hurried and faze fixed on the main door of Ava's house, "follow him," Sunghoon nudged you in Jay's direction, your face contoured into confusion, "but shouldn't Ava be going after him?" He ran his hand through his hair as he watched Jay near the door, "something tells me he needs you more than he'll need Ava at this moment." You looked at him for a second, letting his words sink deep inside you, after a while you nodded at his direction and turned around to run towards Jay.

Sunghoon watched as your hand slipped away from him, the same hand which he had intertwined with yours a few moments back. He watched it all, the way the tip of your finger slid against his one last time, like sand slipping from his palm, the way your lips trembled when you turn away, the urgency in your steps when you try your best to move through the crowd to reach Jay, and his hand tremble beside him. His other hand lifted up to trace the lingering memory of your lips pressing against it. And when he recalled the way your lips moved against his and how he tasted the salty taste of your tear before catching a sight of it, he wondered if that's what heartbreak tastes like. Like a kiss dipped in honey, ruined by the sting of salt you never meant for him to find.

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acid-ixx · 9 months ago

Text

ch.4: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five pt 1, chapter five pt 2,

read until the end for an author's note.

tw: self-esteem issues, alcohol abuse, allusions to self-harm.

"baby bird, i know i haven't been talking to you much as of lately. but i just want to let you know that we miss you alright?"

not delivered.

"i really regret ignoring you, we all do. i'm-"

he hesitates, then deletes the last word of his message.

"—we're the ones in the wrong for everything, alright? you blocked me, i'm sure you did for everyone else too, i get that, but we care for you now and that won't change anytime soon. please remember that."

not delivered.

"and it pains me seeing that you're not replying to my messages at all, baby bird. but i promise i'll-"

dick bites his lips at the mistake of addressing himself only rather than that of the family, but a greedy part of him wants you to read the messages and to see only him in spite of everything rather than them, feeling a sense of... need to be the first and only one you see when you think about accepting their apologies, even if he's writing to you whilst simultaneously trying to get his family in your good graces.

dick doesn't know it. why he's suddenly obsessed with you. you? yes you, his stupidly precious sibling, the one who looked up to him, frail and wronged by the world, with so much drive behind that stare. third child of bruce, yet second youngest in the family. the one that got away, the one he has never once saw outside that one memory of glinting, awe-inspired eyes that told more stories than poets, drew more emotions than artists.

nobody saw you outside of your status as the manor's ghost— but compared to your other siblings, he knew you the most. he wants to be the only man good enough to be considered your brother, your oldest brother; an obligation he's willing to uptake just for you. he wants to be the only one with the authority to call you his baby bird. he doesn't know why, despite the thirteen and a half years, it's him wanting, no, needing to see you again.

you, just you.

every bits and pieces of you.

in his mind, it's just him and you. in your tiny little bedroom, with your dozens of sketchbooks and diaries, with only your brother, dick, to accompany you. in your own little world, as you speak to him of your dreams and passions with nothing else in your mind. you'd look up at him with sparkling eyes, look at him like he means everything in the world to you, and he'd see you as his world.

when he thinks of that, the more he hopes of the possibility of you reading his messages; his declaration of never leaving you alone anymore. and with hope comes along this dread that you'd reply with a nasty reply, or that... you'll never bat an eye him anymore.

dick doesn't take a second glance to correct his mistake again this time.

"i promise i'll be better for you baby bird. my little hatchling, my little one. i discarded you, someone so precious. you must've felt hurt, no? i get that, i'm so sorry you have to go through that because of me. but look! you have me now, we have each other now! and that might not be enough yet to mend the bridge i left to fall, but if you just, please reply to me, or anyone else, then we can fix this. i promise, baby bird."

not delivered.

"you won't ever feel hurt anymore, or sad or lonely. hell, even bruce is getting you a new bedroom fixed up, isn't that great!? i'll even convince the old man to make sure your room is close to my old one so you can visit me anytime. i'll even stay over at gotham for even longer, just for you! and i'll spend my time with you, with just the two of us, okay? nobody else can disturb us. i'm sure you'd like that too."

not delivered.

"and we can hang out anytime you want, no? sleepovers, movie nights, journalling— all the cool stuff you wanted to do with me in the past, we can do now! and it'll be fun with you, i can see it happening alrrady, i just know it. you can't convince me otherwise, baby bird."

not delivered.

"that's why i'm begging you to unblock me, little one, or to at least read all my previous messages, please? :( i'm still so sorry over how i treated you in the past. i've nothing to defend myself over how i acted towards you. i was so delusional, ignoring you when all you clearly wanted was to spend time with me, with the family."

not delivered.

"we can even have that dinner together, remember?! at that fancy restaurant you talked about, yeah? my treat, of course. you can order the entire damn menu and i'll leave you room for seconds and desserts. i can even make arrangements to get bruce to rent out the entire restaurant so it would just be the two of us plus the family, but mostly just us— that would be good! then you can sleep at my room after we get home to the manor since we're turning your old one into an atelier just for you! i'll even carry your cute little figure up any flight of stairs whenever you get tired."

not delivered.

"i promise i'll really make it up to you baby bird!!! <3"

not delivered.

"for all the times we neglected you, left you thinking you didn't deserve a spot in the manor (which you truly do, it's us to blame for never seeing it that way), made you feel negative emotions towards us— i'll take your pain and turn that into joy, i promise."

not delivered.

"and if you do manage to read through all this, please remember..."

not delivered.

"i love you so much, alright? we'll find you soon, and you'll be happier with us, i'm sure of it. i love, love, love you so much my baby bird."

not delivered.

he sighs, resigning his thoughts all to himself as he checks his phone every minute for a simple ring of notifications just from you. he prefers to leave his phone in silent mode from the multitude of other contacts bothering him, but god forbade if that means he'd scroll past to a single reply of yours, then he'd rather burn in hell.

and anything is better than the pain inflicted on him when it comes to the thought of you ignoring him.

because after all, he does mean it when he says he loves you, his baby bird, his adorable little sibling.

he'd rather hell than you seeing him any less of an older brother.

what takes longer? is it a seed growing into a bud, a bud into a bloom, or a flower to fully shrivel and die?

how long does it take for it to be considered worthy? deserving of attention and the rightful spotlight to attain its needs for life?

what takes its time? what other variable does it need for it to survive in such harsh conditions? if it's forcefully pried open as a seedling, as a bud growing in a field full of weeds sapping, draining it of its nutrition, or in a scorching, desolate desert, or pestilent lands; would it still be considered a flower?

what does a seed need to grow into a flower? beautiful, treasured, with vibrant colors reflecting off the surface of each petal, growing pollen for every pollinator to spread its bountiful success you call development?

what does it require?

everyone knows the answer, some could only be ignorant enough to turn the other way and reject the idea altogether.

it needs care, nourishment — healthy soil building a strong foundation, its home with roots carefully embedded in the ground, then it also requires water, a source of life given to it in specific times with just the right dose, and sunlight kissing its stems and petals warmly — and finally, love.

lots of love, attention, and patience from mother nature herself and its caretakers we call humans.

but how could a flower receive any, if not, all it needs, if it's raised under a marshy, overgrowth rainforest that speaks of death and cruel poachers that could step on the bloom of any moment?

how could a flower live, let alone survive, if its careless caretakers who took it away from its fertile lands neglect it of its requirements to grow and bloom into its rightful imagery?

just how?

you are a flower.

and you will wilt soon the longer you live in what you once thought was your home.

growing in cracked, dry soil, with no water nor sunlight aiding your growth.

you are a flower.

who had been loved by your creator, mother nature herself; your mother. but you've never once felt the care nor love of your cruel humans you call family, your father had never once saw your budding petals, kissed it, patiently watered or spent time outside in the sunlight with you. your brothers don't notice your dehydrated pets, shriveled leaves and bent stems, nor do they tend to it. your sisters don't decorate the pot you reside it, they don't talk to you every time you sag down in loneliness and isolation as you are forced to stay in the same place and witness the same scenarios over and over again.

not much knows it, but flowers, much like any plant, can communicate, they can feel. and when they do, they do deeply.

and you are a flower. a flower worthy of being pressed into books, storing your beauty forever. a flower worthy of being situated into a stunning arrangements of bouquets, worshipped through birthdays, dates, weddings, and even funerals.

you're a flower, and you're beautiful and deserving of praise and honor from your stages in life as a seed, from a bud, to a blooming flower. yet you're neglected the same way ignorant trespassers would step on growing blooms, uncaring for sabotaging their life completely, and oh-so easily.

you're a flower, a symbol of nature's fertility, resilience, and tranquility.

you symbolize your mother's long standing determination to care for a child whose father looked other ways but her. who raised her seedling with care, watered them with stories of fairytales: fantasies about prince charmings who take their flowers away from barren lands to spoil them with rich soil and neverending sunlight, about princesses who stop by flower shops to awe at the arrangements of bouquets, eyes glazing with fervor as they recount each and every symbolism every unique flower shares.

your mother places you in your favorite, decorated pot: your shared bedroom with her, and she kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your chubby little fingers, the same way the illuminating sunlight kisses at your flushed body whenever you two would go out for your walks.

she was your mother nature, and you were her precious flower.

you were once a blooming bud then, and you wished you would still bloom now.

how could you grow into what you're worth, when even you couldn't grow without the love that was taken from you?

what about the care, the patience, the determination she once held in her warm gaze, now cold and fading with life the last time you saw her; would it all be a waste?

how could you grow now?

and yet you don't even need to ponder for solutions. the answers were clear, clear as the water your petals used to bathe in, clear as the rain that pitters against alfred's car windows the same day you were taken away from your mother's hold—

you simply wilt.

8:31PM.

your friend said she'd pick you up quarter to nine, so you'd at least have the time to prepare and make yourself look good. but right now...

god, right now, you don't feel anything good, not even a wee bit of it at all. ever since he texted you, you feel like shit, utterly repulsed. vile, like the image of you vomiting every contents of your stomach— and now you're going out drinking with an empty one. you can already feel the bitter taste of heavy alcohol mixing in with the acids of your stomach.

you can already feel the breakdown you're having right now as you remember how fucking broke and useless you are for having to ask your friends to treat you to drinking because you have nothing left to offer beyond the fucking taxes you have to pay and the nearly due rent and bills.

you have nothing to offer. you're so shitty. you deserve to die.

the more you stare at the mirror, the more your eyebags seem to deepen, your lips began to dry, and the pit in your chest sunken.

and that makes you exhale even deeper, ignoring the way your throat constricts on itself in instinct.

your eyes flitter to your fingers, nails bitten, skin ripped at the seems with dry blood staining chipped cuticles.

when you looked back at your reflection, you want to cry even more, seeing an image of a moving pile of flesh. all puffy skin and sagging eyes.

you don't remember the last time you felt pretty about yourself.

whether it was in the manor, or back when your mother was the only one raising you— it seems like your memories are in shambles right now.

you don't remember the last time you looked in a mirror, looking healthy, fresh, and proud of yourself for dressing up in your style. in the back of your mind, there will always be hatred, resentment for how you look. and right now, you hate how you every bit of your appearance because...

because you look exactly just like an image of your mother and bruce wayne. a reminder, your punishment for your parents' beautifully tragic affair with one another. a billionaire who courted the lowly dirt-class slut of gotham.

yet you're uglier because you're not them, you couldn't be them. you're not picture-perfect brucie with slick-black hair and a face like fine-aged wine, or the image of your sultry, "man-eater" mother in her lingerie. you're just, you— you've inherited all the stupid flaws you wished you could shave off your damn body.

you remember seeing your father's face in television with your mother beside you by the couch, combing your hair and giggling when your eyes had lit up at the sight of the rich man. you haven't once took your eyes off the news channel whenever he appeared, looking at bruce, always enamored with his aesthetics, only to never notice your mother's tired eyes, or how shaky her fingers would sometimes become.

"momma, that's daddy, right?!" you asked her whilst the side of your body was pressed against hers, with all the enthusiasm a child could muster. your grin was wide, eyes peeled to the screen, enough to ignore the flinch in your mother as you had once thought it was her igniting with the same excitement as yours.

she simply leans down and kisses your cheeks, her eyes, a beautiful shade of your eyes color, albeit lighter in hue, never once left the crown of your small head, ignoring the headline for the news about 'brucie's new fling caught on camera!'.

your mother was so glad you were still illiterate at your age. she wish she could never break off the illusion that it was her who simply birthed to you, with no face for a father. maybe you would've never ask her about why he had never once came to visit your small family, why you could never meet your other siblings, or why he's seen with multiple other women by his side every time you open the television.

you ask at frequent intervals; it makes her wish to strip away the past in which she chose to tell you who your father was. you would've experienced less heartbreak, she would've never seen the way your eyes would dim at her every excuse, or the way she felt your heart crack at the seams, only further breaking hers.

yet after a while, she replies and buries her thoughts, ignoring the tears that lid her eyes. with not so much enthusiasm in her light voice, with the undertones of guilt and sorrow digging deep throat her throat, but it was enough for young, little you to jump on your springy couch with her response.

"... oh, yes, that's your papa...! isn't he so nice looking—?"

"and handsome! i'm so lucky to have such beautiful parents! i wish i was as pretty as you, momma, and daddy too!"

when you had looked up with haste, glinting eyes staring up at her with a wide grin, some baby teeth still present, others absent from your gums, yet you displayed admiration no less; your mother just as quickly wipes her red eyes and sniffling nose with the worn sleeves of her sweater and reciprocates your beaming energy with a small smile.

she wishes you'd dismiss her previous melancholic expression, replacing it with the same fond, yet tired gaze she always offers you, wishing you'd be as oblivious to the pain it brings her to see your hopes and dreams of meeting a father you could only admire through a screen or article. yet you're always so perceptive, so interlinked with her reactions that she's sure that one of the few positive traits your father had given you. she should've expected your words, yet her broken heart finds a path to heal whenever you sense her pain and soft a bandage to the cracks of her bleeding scars with your kindness.

you would always be her little flower. the one she'd nurture in a garden filled with rosy bushes and scarring thorns.

"—you're so beautiful, momma, even if you cry because daddy isn't here with us, or you're too tired taking care of me. you're beautiful because you're my mother, and i'll take you over everything in the world..."

and you tell her, an inaudible whisper to your voice, with eyes that were once wide, beaming with joy, now gazing at her with softness like the wind kissing blades of grass in a gentle dance. you look at her, and she stares back, eyeing your chubby cheeks and lips the same shape of hers, the ends of your lashes curves the same way as hers, and your voice matches her like a lullaby when you speak every vowel in a soothing lilt.

you calm the hurt in her chest, replacing it with a mellow warmth. she even forgot the tears that slowly dripped her eyes, all replaced with the comfortable softness of her precious child's palms, smooth and cozy, resting on both of her cheeks as you pepper her crying face with kisses.

she holds both your palms caging her, and allows the your hold to linger for longer. the silence ensues, yet you both embrace the unsaid assurances.

it's times like these where she realizes you encapsulate the beauty of both worlds.

it's moments like this, she sees herself in you, and maybe she could lead herself to believe that she is beautiful, because she sees her beauty through her child, her grace.

the memory only further deepens the guilt in your heart.

if there's one word to describe you now. it would be disgrace. to your father's honor, and your mother's legacy. for easily letting yourself go, for being so weak, for being the line that jumps between two polar opposites of one another; trying to traverse their path of belonging.

you're a disgrace, a mistake, and you deserve to be treated as such.

it was why you never find yourself beautiful. a person such as yourself would always find allure, worth in all things chaotic - you live in gotham after all - but never find that same value in yourself as you look at your reflection that distorts your image even more, making you uglier and uglier the longer you look.

split ends everywhere, hand tangled, reddish eyes from nearly crying again.

even if you beat at yourself, erratic and impulsive, even if your skin is colored an ashen blue and purple, rotten shades of yellow and red, you think of yourself ugly and repulsive.

no matter how much color you try to bring into your bleak, repulsive life, at the cost of hurting yourself to become pretty— every part of you will always be that ugly, little duckling in comparison of your siblings who always outshone you.

dick with his playboy body, jason and his towering one, tim with soft boyish features, damian's silky tan and smooth skin, and duke's baby face.

you couldn't even have your hair frame you as perfectly as steph's light blonde hair does, or share barbara's proportionate face, or look as gracious yet deadly like cassandra.

you're nowhere near as special, you're not like them. you have features too unique, yet out of place, and you couldn't bring yourself to be conventionally good-looking.

you hate yourself so much. you hate every little mole, every little pimple, every damn imperfection that litter your body, making you even lesser than what you already are.

your family; mother, father, brothers and sisters, god, even your fucking friends! every time you sit by them side-by-side, you'd feel insecure, imperfect, an eyesore and you just want to strip away every part of your limbs one by one if that meant replacing it with even better ones; all for the sake of at least feeling pretty.

you remember the first time you tried to find a sense of style, and damian's comment and– god fucking damn it—!

your hands found its way to your brushed hair, tangling itself through already fragile strands to rip at the seams. you don't care, you don't fucking care, you pray to any god out there to get them out of your head, pleas unheard, you're always left to hurt.

"what are you trying to achieve with that, huh? what even are you trying to think with that horrendous color combination? what are you, a clown? even that damned joker has more coordination than you think you could achieve."

in front of his friend, jon kent, with a scowl on his ever-so angry face and his hand already making a way to grip his sword; an absolute threat to dice you up shall you ever bother being in the same room as him.

he said that to you... you're older, you could've been stronger, could've at least found a semblance of fight in your bones. but no! god, no. your life was ruled with fear with damian wayne being the demon haunting you in the manor, always making living harder, making breathing a heavy task.

how could you ever fight back? not when you've conditioned yourself to tear up at the slightest bit of noise, feel goosebumps prick your skin when you hear someone raise their voice at you, and your heart rate hasten at the slide of a knife against any surface?

you! you who's so fucking weak to even make a comeback. you, who ran away with wide, traumatized eyes. because you're scared, so fucking fearful of an even bigger cut to your skin marked by damian— even if you're accustomed to cutting yourself with even deeper gashes.

because it's him that you fear, not the pain, not anymore. just him and his contempt at you for ruining his pure bloodline just by you being his half-sibling.

you don't want a repeat of your first meeting, or any meeting with him at all. not when you'd drown even deeper in a pit of fear every time you stare at his glaring, emerald eyes. one that tells you he chose to merely not kill you out of the goodness of his heart. but he will, god he will if he feels you've been too comfortable in his presence.

every damn time, everytime you feel fear, you see green. you hate green, any literal meaning of it, every implication of itx even seeing it, and fuck! your outfit has green embellishments.

you feel even uglier, yet the twinge of fear immediately overpowers any concern your had with your appearance. it's as if eyes were suddenly on you, and it's not only yours staring at you in the mirror.

your lips wobble, snot began blocking through the passage of your nose.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

why?! why can't you just forget about them all. why, why, why?!

you bite your lips harshly to conceal the pained whimpers from the back of your throat, but it doesn't work. it only makes the fear worse.

tears rim at your eyes, you merely wipe them away. your heart attempts to beat out of its gilded cage, yet you swallow your quivering chokes and proceed to continue staring at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a rush, with nothing to conceal your ghastly eyebags and sunken skin.

and green. you'll see it everywhere now. fuck, would dick send out damian to kill you now? you don't know, you're scared but you can't chicken out, not when your friend is already near to your apartment. god you wish you had beer in your cabinets instead, but you're broke and unprepared for life and your hair's all in a tangle and you just fucking want to die.

your hands grip at the edge of your sink, you look at your mirror and see the blood on your already bitten lips.

not even concealer can cover the damn scars all over your face all through the neck.

calm down.

you stare even deeper at yourself and ignore the green, trying to think of something else—

something less emotionally scarring, like your appearance. even if it brings you great pain, too, you'd rather that than your family. no more of them, fuck, no more. even if you stare at your eyes and see that familiar mix of colors of your mother and bruce's eyes. the shape of your face, even the curve of your brows all resembled your late mother— and you miss her, her captivating beauty that you never saw aged like fine way before she was taken away from you. you see bruce in the strands of your hair and the way it sometimes fray when too stressed. you see them in every image you wish to erase of yourself.

yet your genetics are nothing to them, not when you can't even care for your tangled hair or ashen skin.

even the dead looked more lively than you ever could.

with a pale complexion, with scars that litter all over your shoulders, wrists, and hidden parts of your body, one you're too ashamed to show anybody— it was no doubt that you looked pathetic and erased the beauty that both your parent's cultivated. and it makes you wonder; would it really be worth it?

would it be worth it if the people around you see you?

you with your melancholic eyes, trying to find an escape in a maze you call your mind? you can picture yourself drinking alcohol until you reach the domain of death, sitting in a stool, alone, as you nearly empty the contents of your stomach remembering the sole reason why you're there in the first place.

would it be worth it if all eyes suddenly were on you? they turn to you to gaze at the ugly bruises on your body, they mock your appearance, call you names, look at your sniveling, red nose and warm cheeks intoxicated from all the heavy liquor you'd down, and whisper. they'll whisper insults, slurs, and every known jab until it's all their words that pierces through your eyes, until the loud bass becomes mere background chatter for all the gossips that ensue.

are you actually going to do this right now?

you don't know, you don't know and you wish never cared as much.

all you could really focus on was your eminent goal of getting out of your stuffy apartment, to rid of the paranoia that somehow, you're being watched over in the confines of your four walls and that the familiar image of green will come attack you. the more you think, the more the hairs on your skin start to raise with every known intention to signal you of your anxiety.

eyes, they may be everywhere.

eyes, eyes, eyes. as you stare at your eyes, you try to ignore emerald eyes, they dilute even further. you gulp, yet your focus remains distorted. images flash at the mirror, and suddenly they're here, with you, with their eyes. bright blue for some, dark green for another, and they all gaze at you with contempt. one's hand claws at your throat, the other pins your wrist down on the edge of the sink. the eyes glare, and they never soften. yours merely shook, unblinking as your breathing becomes heavier; trapped in the cages of their wanton staring.

you yelp, then blink. when you did, they're gone. and you're back to looking at the same image of yourself. you grimace slowly.

ugly, with dry skin and falling hairs. the worst version of you, the normal version of yourself— there was never a best version for you.

as long as it's you, you'll never be enough.

all you wanted was to drink with your friends at a club; some working nightshifts at the location you're going to— yet you want to back down. want to take your phone by the corner of your vision and cancel your sudden plans.

but you're scared, you're so fucking scared of any new messages.

hell, even finding the contacts for your friends was a task in itself you wish to never repeat. with jittery fingers trying to type of messages and blurry eyes navigating through the screen of your slippery, glass screen protector.

you're scared, rightfully so.

you're scared to find his message once more suddenly popping up, your fingers accidentally pressing on it like the clumsy swine you are, and rereading that damn heart over and over again.

you slam your dominant hand against the tiled sink, hard and uncaring for the pain it induced all throughout your body. the tremors of the impact shook you to your core, yet you seethe in your breath and don't allow yourself respite to let the tears flow freely from your already red eyes. you feel your heart beating erratically through your chest, the shivers controlling your body, the shrieks that you contained within you— and you enchain them all with no respect for yourself.

you deserve this. you deserve to be hurt, to be punished for your actions, for your mistakes, for your sins.

even if your hand became swollen, splotched with varying shades of disgusting purples and yellows, you won't treat it with medicine. even if the sharp edges of the sink broke the fragile layer of your already scarred palm, and bled profusely with that familiar shade of red; you won't rush to wrap it with gauze or even spare a droplet of betadine. even if by the next day you'd have to write out your overdue assignments with that specific hand, then you'll force yourself to learn through the other and punish yourself again if you fail once more.

you deserve this.

and as your phone pings, lighting up to show you a notification of one of your friend's messages about being ready to pick you up by the lobby of your apartment's ground floor, you ignore your injured hand and the bruises on your knees from falling so abruptly on tiled floors just moment's ago. you dismiss the ache of your head, the soreness of your eyes and the disgusting beat of your heart.

you ignore the pain that wrecks at your entire body, in favor of destroying it even more, just as you deserve.

you don't recall how many shots you had before you're nearly passed out by the bar, sitting on its stool with your head leaning on one both your arms crossed, drool close to slipping out of the corners of your mouth and heavy eyes lidded, about to fall into the depths of sleep.

you're sure you looked wasted, absolutely drop-dead drunk with no thoughts circulating in your head other than the pleasant buzz in your ears and the flash of colors in the disco balls blanketing the entire room with its neon lights. your face must've been an unearthly shade of red, and you can already feel just how blazen it is, and how your fingertips are ice-cold to the touch (probably colder than the marble you lay your arms upon). in other words, you're actually wasted.

and it's so worth it if it means it gets you to forget. and forget you did, because you can't even dig deep into your head to even remember a single memory of whatever grief you went through earlier in your apartment. not even the throb of your head from when you pulled your hair from its roots, all to the way you slammed your dominant hand on your bathroom sink, bruising it with unnatural shades of purples and yellow.

it makes you omit every type of pain, both physically, mentally, and emotionally. it doesn't cure you of your ails, but god forbid you if you just want to savor moments where nothing but a mind numbing headache is the only feeling present in your current state.

the remix of songs were long forgotten in your mind, they all become an amalgamation of miscellaneous sounds. your body is so inclined towards the flat, rectangular cool surface of the marble glass of the bar that you can guarantee you could sleep here, especially since black behan to cloud both your vision and your mind.

everything feels so hazy, and pleasant, and straight-out peaceful that the screaming tandems of equally drunk clubbers and the occasional sobers holding up their friends who sang along with whatever remix the dj comes up with, or the forming crowd as people began to rock and dance to the bass that shakes up the entire floor to the point you can feel vibrations run along your spine— didn't register within the crevices in your mind.

all you can focus on, is the gratifying pleasure ll alcohol induces in your body. gone is the feeling of fear that emanates off of every inch within your body. your bones don't feel as if it's locking up everytime you feel eyes on you, and your throat doesn't certainly feel constricted with the lack of flow of blood anymore.

god, this is why you've never once regret drinking right after the moment you turned eighteen— not when it's positive effects outweighs all the negative emotions that rule over your body.

you couldn't even notice a man with shades (seriously, who wears that to party? isn't the club dark enough?) sitting beside your drunken form in the corner of your eyes, raptured in the thin line between focusing on reality and drifting off to dream world. you don't even bat an eye to his muffled giggles and the way he twisted his stool just to admire the view: you.

you're oblivious to the entire commotion happening within the depths of his mind because you couldn't feel any aptitude to danger right now— thanks to the effects of the hard liquor overtaking whatever fear you've felt being watched long ago.

or maybe you just felt safe beside the stranger. or, you're merely drunk. you don't know.

fuck, you're so close to passing out.

you don't know where your friends are, where they came running off to but you know you won't be getting out her sooner or later and you definitely don't have a ride home. so your only way back without getting ambushed as a completely vulnerable citizen of gotham, is by a safer, more convenient means of a ride— but that certainly wouldn't be safe if your friends are as equally drunk, or even more so, as you. but does your hazy mind care? no. not when you flip your head to rest on the other side once the other side became hotter that you notice a conveniently attractive man staring right back at you with an entertained grin.

as if your existence alone makes him happy. as much as your mind keeps blanking out, that mere implication made your heart pang just a teensy bit. of pain, or pleasure, or mere joy, you don't know. but you do know that it triggered some unknown feelings and you don't want to feel.

you want to drink some more, feeling solemn all of a sudden just from staring at him. you're sure the obvious frown on your quivering lips and the heavy, hot sigh

and it doesn't help that his face seems similar. the longer you stare, the more his grin seems to sharpen. confidently? or shyly? you can't seem to gain a clear image of him; what when rainbow lights are blazing out through the holes of the disco ball and your eyes recently just opened to your near journey to traverse through sleep.

all you can make out to be is his jet-black hair, side bangs framing the left side of his face, a faint outline of an eyebrow piercing

you also took note of his spiky jacket— yet what draws you the most to him are his sunglasses that he chose to wear conspicuously in a damn club of all places.

he's attractive, to say the least, but he triggers a set of emotions deep into the cages of your imprisoned heart that sets itself free. he gives you a sense of nostalgia, of familiarity that you can't pinpoint but feel; like you've seen him before but don't know when. your eyebrows furrow in and your eyes squint at him, unknowing to the judgement you're subjecting him in. your lips wobble, though, because his presence just makes your heart feel something, akin to pain but not quite, and makes your head buzz that you just want to cry as a reaction.

he, the stranger, don't know it, but he makes you all sad, primal emotions overtaking any drunkenness you feel as deep tremors buzzed into the confines of your chest, until all you're doing is staring at him with pouting, downturned lips and sad, puppy eyes; rimming with salty tears.

you don't know why you feel sad all of the sudden, and you can faintly see through blurry, watery vision how his face shifted from entertained to worry, eyebrows raised and eyes wide open at your sudden mood shift.

maybe you or him could've spoken up, you more so, but you're just so emotionally drained and overwhelmed today that you began sobbing silently without breaking eye contact with the man.

despite you wanting to say anything: an introduction, a question opening up as to why he's staring at you, or even a mere phrase telling him to "back off"; the only words that came out from your parched throat, all from trying to reason in your head on what a proper sentence should be, were:

"you're hot," and if you were sober enough, you would've felt sheer embarrassment and shame from eyeing the boy, but you're not— and because you're not sober, or any bit sane, the next few sentences you spewed out were all coherent, yet wonkily pronounced utterances paired with teary eyes and sniffling nose, as you can't seem to control the feelings of melancholy in your heart and the sudden emotional burst from your ramblings.

"thank you, you too, actually— but are you alright-"

"you're so hot, god, please. i don't know..." you gave him no time to speak as you hiccupped, lips wobbling even more than you can imagine. and you're trying your damn best to rid of the urge to punch at your chest as a coping mechanism through the multitude of emotions eating you up and away. but you never realized you were trying for an absolute stranger, palms fisting into itself as he stares at you worriedly all of a sudden.

"like... you're familiarly attractive, i—" the next few sentences were incoherent as your words bubbled around you like detergent soap. your fingers found itself into your face as you try to wipe off both tears and nearly dripping snot as you continued rambling drunkly.

"you just! you're hot, for me, i don't know... i'm just, we all—eughh... i don't know, i'm so sad..." and you truly are, for no reason at all other than seeing the man. poor him, must've felt so ashamed that he's the reason you're crying but at the same time... nothing can really stop you from ceasing your tears.

at least, that's what you've convinced yourself to believe in. that you're truly incurable of the ailment of being constantly depressed with nobody to aid you with your troubles. not even your friends, nor past therapists that you've consulted.

you've nothing to comfort you, and that makes you even more solemn than ever.

the simplest of emotions felt, the deeper and complex you take it out to be. sadness, or moreover depression, the horseman of apocalypse that destroys any hope you've tried to kindle with your life.

it makes you all the more burst into a wave of even more tears.

"... okay, okay, wait here for me, alright?" he suddenly stood up, hurriedly, probably unsure, or disgusted by you. you're unsure about what he's saying, too caught up crying that you simply nod to whatever he said and continued on with your episode.

as you're left alone, you allow your tears to dry only cry once more. when he left you, you weren't aware but you just felt even more lonely. at pushing away the only company you had after your friends left you in the dust, you feel depressed and regretful and all emotions related to grief and you just want to drink some more but you don't know if you can take it anymore!

god, it all returns to pain. pain you thought you could bury deep once you took multiple swigs of alcohol.

pain that makes you want to bang your head against the marble of the bar—

and you're so close to doing so, but only stopped when your blurry vision sets itself on the man returning with a handkerchief and a cold glass of ice water. at his kind gesture, you simply teared up even more, pouting when he walked your way and looked at you with a sheeping grin.

when he sat right back up on the stool seated to your right, he hesitated with his hold on the handkerchief near your face. but the moment he gathered up his pride and pressed it against the unnatural blaze of your cheeks, you merely leaned closer to his palms, eyes closing as you can feel the tears cease itself finally at the blind comfort he's unknowingly providing you.

"there, there... be careful, 'kay stranger?"

he mutters, a light chuckle accompanying him. it's only now you can finally focus on the cool churn of his voice and the , with your eyes close and the haze of your thoughts washing away, leaving you breathless in your respite— not restrictive, nor lonely, but still short of breath.

this reminds you of the times alfred had to hold you in his arms everytime you threw a tantrum at the manor.

it made you realize that the months, a near year even, after leaving the manor, made you crave physical affection. making you feel like a husk of yourself when not given. you feed off of the scraps of physical lovez to the point that even this man who's wiping away the tears from your cheeks makes your heart beat faster, in a comfortable manner.

sensations. he once told you that if you feel too deeply within, then to ground yourself you must feel beyond interior ranges of emotions.

and that's the technique you've been willing away from your head for so long. because it always requires another person in the room to comfort you, to simply touch you softly, gently like you're porcelain the same way the stranger is pressing damp fabric against your tearstained cheeks and hollowed out eyes.

the pain you've felt was because you're merely touch starved. alone, in a space where everyone has someone, and a no one can't have anyone.

but now that you do have a someone, no matter how dangerous he could've been outside of your impression of him, you feel the pain lessen, the heavy burdens become featherlight at his kind gestures of wiping all the salty tears from your face, the runny snot from your nose with no rush whatsoever.

"feel better now, hon?"

"mhm..." a long, drawled out yawn emits from your mouth, yet you're too comfortable with him to even care, suddenly feeling a wave of drowsiness after your emotional episode.

after he finished wiping your face, and felt it considerably cool down from the damp fabric, he placed it on the bar, one hand on your face keeping you stable. yet his other hand promptly went back to your cheeks.

he chose to do this of his own volitions, even leaning closer as your head finds itself slowly dropping to his clavicle (careful to avoid the spikes from his peculiar designed jacket), looking up at him and staring at his gray eyes.

the man looks down at you as you now realize he's cupping your face. at the implication of your entire ordeal with him, you might've felt flustered sober, but you're just so drunk that any spacial awareness for the proximity between your bodies just disappeared and left you with the need to sleep within the confines of the safety this man left you with.

you don't know it, but yet again the man smiles down at your adorable antics, finding the way you're absolutely trusting of a stranger both stupid, yet endearing. because he's no more stranger, and heaven bless him because he's so glad he's the person who approached you rather than anyone else because you looked so cute, and his crush on you may have lead him to stalk you occasionally just to ensure you're safe— that doesn't erase the gesture that he did it purely because gotham is too dangerous for your own good. and he's glad he trusted his human side of intuition, rationalizing with himself that today just seems to be the day you'd bump into danger if he's not there.

you're so stunning up close... how come tim never once found interest in someone as admirable as you is a mystery. but you trusting a stranger in your vulnerable state is much more.

and he's grateful he's that stranger.

because he may be a stranger to you, but a familiar one. and you feel safe, a feeling you haven't felt in so long that you simply just melt against him like clear putty; because you're transparent with what you feel right now.

and right now you feel warmth. not the uncomfortable one that blazes through your (now) cool face when you were drunk, nor the burning one whenever you thought of your family— but a pleasant one. like sitting near a fireplace as you watch the embers crackle, drinking hot cocoa whilst a quilt covers your body from the cold of the winter. you feel this way at his kindness, at his efforts to help you contain your emotions to a reasonable degree.

"what's your name, kind stranger?" you mutter on his chest (how come your head is laying on it, actually?) hearing the soft thumps of his heart. it's warm, he's warm and every bit of comfortable, as he does his best to move slightly back to remove his jacket and drape it over your body before he could reply to you, chuckling whilst doing so because you looked up at him with your eyes conveying every damn emotion that made you feel soft.

"it's conner, conner kent. call me kon, though. or yours if it's you." he purrs. it took you a minute to register his obvious flirting but what comes after is an absolute flush on your body and you recoiling from his hold as you look back at him, mouth agape. the tips of your ears were warm, and every bit of

an overexaggeration to his flirting, sure. it makes you look less appealing in your eyes, extra sure! but it's been so long since someone last attempted to flirt with you; but most were under the guise of when you were still a wayne and... and not as yourself. you! you who sports so many imperfections that—

"haha! is it strange to say that you look so cute whenever you look at me with wide eyes in the short span of time we just met?"

he slides in through your train of thoughts before you could delve even deeper through self-deprecation. and you're glad that he did because... god, he makes you want to shamelessly gloat as a reply. you've never had someone complement your eyes before, actually...

"i'm..." you look back at him after you stared down at your palms, heat overtaking your entire body. yet again it wasn't uncomfortable, and just the right temperature. you stutter your name afterwards, making sure it's your mother's last name that you highlighted implicitly and not bruce's.

he seems to grin even wider when you introduce yourself. that's when his next reply generally warranted you to nearly burst off your seat out of sheer diffidence.

"well," he says your name, tasting every syllable in his pierced tongue. "your name tastes sweet, dove. but i think your face is even sweeter now that you're not crying — not saying that isn't cute too but you're so stunning now that i look closer at you without any barriers. your eyes, especially, they're like some mix doe and siren eyes, or whatever my other friends talk about in social media. point given, you're drop-dead gorgeous in my eyes."

it all comes naturally from him that your brain merely shortcircuited and fried itself comprehending his message, forgetting you were drunk in the first place replacing it with a flush in your heart, the pit of grief and despair replaced with the lighthearted need to banter or reply meekly at his shameless flirting right after he comforted you.

this is the first time you felt something for someone's romantic gestures, instead of that wave of nausea that accompanies you.

he makes you feel... pretty about yourself. in a good way, in a way you don't feel the need to hide your insecurities for once and instead allow his eyes to flitter around your entire face, analyzing your features because... because he simply makes you feel pretty the more he stares at you.

yet all you did was take his hand on your own, a sudden burst of confidence even you couldn't explain, and played with it, as you pouted in reply before thinking— using his hand-now-turned-fidget-toy — of a good enough response.

you simply said, coughing before continuing, "i don't take back what i said moment's ago. you're hot too, even if my vision was obstructed by my tears."

"oh, really?" he smiled gently and allowed your hands autonomy to play with his. it's like telepathy, he knows it's automatic that you crave physical affection and attention and he's willing to provide you that solace.

"now that you're not crying— you think i'm even more handsome?"

you snort at his question, then took a step back with your thoughts to properly study him. neat, yet messy hair, piercing on the eyebrows and on his tongue (hot), sunglasses and spiky jacket draped upon your shoulders— goddamnit, of course he's hot! and you made it efficiently clear that he is, with your hands fiddling pattern against his soft, yet calloused hands, by squeezing it.

"yes, you are even more handsome, kon..." brief and concise, just how you like it. even if he gave you an entire essay describing you in his eyes, for you, you prefer actions; and you did so by simply being affectionate with the stranger, now acquaintance you have a slight crush on.

you'd never expected this turn of events, but it was a pleasant one and one you'd never really want to trade with anything else now that you've met kon.

so when he opened his mouth to spew something else, your ears perked up to listen and your mind, albeit slowly sobering up, prepared itself to reply to whatever flirting, conversation topics, and anything random it is that he wishes to talk about to you.

you smiled at him whilst he talked, he reciprocates as always.

yet this time, you weren't afraid to hide just how joyous you feel, for once, having a person interested in you not only physically but with your interests, too, as your conversations kept shifting to things about you.

it made inclined to learn about yourself, too. and that makes you happy, and fuzzy in the insides the more he asks you questions beyond your favorites. like in movies, he didn't simply just ask your favorites and you replied with an answer and moved on, no! you both discussed the emotional depth it impacted you with, why symbolism matters so much, and why in the near future you'd both inevitably meet up, you'll both watch it together.

that makes you feel excited.

you even forgot the main reason why you're here in the first place; to drink. now, though, it seems like you just wanted to talk to kon all night long.

fortunately for you, that's how the rest of your night went. with a pleasant buzz in the background, the sounds of remixes all drowned out in your ears as you favor the chatters of the man beside you, with the tremor of his voice a comfortable volume and his tone laced with freshly made honey.

when your friends finally ran back to the bar where you all collectively agreed to meet up at once everyone's shenanigans were finished, they giggled drunkenly whilst some sober ones whistled at seeing your hand unknowingly massaging his palms like a stresstoy and the jacket draped upon your shoulders.

the moment you returned it to him, he joked about wearing it every second now since it reminds him of you, and how it's his favorite piece of attire now beyond all his other clothing. you merely blushed and ignored the cooing of your friends behind you.

you didn't feel concerned over not seeing him anymore, as he had given you a slip of paper with his number on it in through a tissue with paracetamol pills wrapped around it (like the thoughtful gentleman he made himself out to be when he excused himself a second time to get those items, since you'd left your phone with one of your friends; you swore you felt a blush creep into your cheeks and heating the tip of your ears), you instead felt a pang of longing and furrowed your brows, looking at him as if asking if you'll see him around anytime soon as he reciprocates with a sure grin that makes you feel a wave of feather like affection.

he left shortly after, striding to you as your group recollects all your stuff and whispering a, "text you later, dove. stay safe for me, alright? don't let any other strangers get to you."

you're glad this night would end on a good note, willing away any prior doubts towards spending the night in a completely foreign street and expecting fir criminals and thugs to break in but no! you can't help but admit that your new... interest, conner, made your night a thousand times better.

and his little nickname for you... haha, you're so flustered thinking about texting him tonight. you'd neglect your assignments for now if it meant messenging him right after you get home, safely, for his sake.

when your group all came outside though, that's when things shifted.

time is a construct. it's complicated and structured like that as well. it can either be too fast, or too slow. when your friends had taken their sweet time to spend the night dancing about the dancefloor, when you'd taken the precious time to flirt and talk to kon; that's when you all collectively realized that their damn cars were stolen.

the air suddenly shifted to this thick atmosphere when you all stepped out, one that can be sliced through with a sword, and you swore—

god, you swore this night couldn't have been any better with the turn of things, but now. right after you got out the club, it all took a turn for the worse.

this is it.

you're going to die today.

you're going to die, in some dirty ditch, your friends nowhere to be found, with nobody to save you.

nasty bruises already began to form on your skin, one with harsher colors of purple, blue, and yellow on your wrists and other patches of skin; way harsher

the man in front of you was gnarly, but you've no time to judge as he kicks you in the guts.

matted brown hair lay atop his head like a bird's attempt at a near, he has an odor that reeks of sewer rats, piss, and feces, and an unruly beard that houses bits of his leftover.

he holds a weapon whose shape you couldn't make out with your hazy vision, body nearly cramping in on itself once he kicked you again.

straight in the abdomen, with brute strenght accompanied by his worn leather boots decorated with glinting spikes that sparkle under the moonlight's glow.

in the abdomen, spikes.

blood first, then curdling pain next.

no noise rips through your ears, only wringing ever present, but your mouth opens, and you can feel its tender chords crack as a scream erupts from your throat, shrill and resounding from the deepest depths of the cockpit your mouth has to offer you; uncaring for the man in front of who who suddenly covers his ears and grits his teeth, who looks at you like you're mad, yet unlike same way his two other lackeys from behind look at your like you're the creation of carnage itself.

pain shot throughout your body, most especially at the core of the holes that pierced through your clothes and right inside your skin. and as your bulging, teary eyes try to look down with an agape, whimpering mouth, his shoes still connected to your body; you could only hold off so much of that familiar taste of acidic bile paired with that lingering scent of cheap booze.

tears were a byproduct of the misery, as it began to escape from your already puffy eyes. when the man released his legs fron pinning you down, your sobs only worsened as your unpinned, shivering arm try its damned best to cover the already leaking blood.

six holes, the diameter of the more than half of your finger, was what you could make out in your line of sight. the blood that leaked from them looked black, you couldn't find where the gradient of black and red connects, your only certainty in this situation was that you'd bleed to death before help could come to you.

the spikes were as long as a toothpick, a crimson puddle lay dripping on the floor.

your legs were shaking against your will, your eyes frantically search around you yet your pinned once more, his larger body framing against your own, providing no room nor qualms for an escape.

but the only escape you wanted was one from the pain of his pressing against your injury, even more blood spilling out of its confines. your tears only hastened its descent from your shaky eyes.

when your mouth opened for the nth time to wail out, he seethed in a breathe and threatened you, with his breath as vile as his entire being, that smells like every mix of synthetic chemicals from cigarette flavors, all expired, with teeth rotting and sporting yellow and black wallpaper.

gross, so gross. you want to die when the stench hits your nose. you shrivel in yourself, you couldn't breath.

"listen here, little bitch, you quiet down or i kill you. and 'ya either give me everythin' you own in your damn possession, or i'll kick you even more until a thousand little holes will fuckin' make you bleed to death, hear me?"

hearing his statement only made the adrenaline pump even more fight of flight into your heart. but you can't do either, you can't, not when you're still hazy from the fucking alcohol and the self defense tools in your tiny pouch were thrown a few feet away from you.

you've nothing to defend yourself.

oh god, oh shit, fuck.

you want to die, you want to so fucking die than go through the same pain of nearly being abducted or held hostage again.

yet your eyes could only close, your teeth kissing your bottom lips, biting hard to drown out another pained scream. whimpers, god, they're so loud yet you can't help the whimpers and the broken faucet from your eyes. even if you beg your own body to stop, it doesn't listen to the pleas of your mind.

the only thing it can focus on is the pain. recreant, volatile pain.

a moan escapes you, shaky and prolonged. the only other emotion that you could experience after is sorrow.

you didn't expect your pleasant night to end off in such a tragic note, but as your attacker held you by your throat with one hand, a knife pointed against your face, the next that happened was your head slammed roughly against the wall; a dull, beating ache lulling the back of your head after the momentary spark of pain— you're reminded that this is reality, and you're close to losing consciousness quick.

you're going to die.

bloody, a sobbing, dissociating mess, with your thoughts spinning around the same way the stranger and his lackeys laugh — bared yellow teeth, with the smell of ichor prevalent in their clothes, predatory eyes leering at you like you're prey — at your drunken moans of pain.

you're going to die.

"well, you gonna answer me or what, bitch? you wanna die!?"

he shouts you with spit that sprays all over your face, flashing you a grin and by extension flashing you his ugly, bared teeth. some missing were in his gums, others were artificial, most rotten like him.

you're going to die.

alone, in a ditch. bloody, laying in a pool of your own crimson the same way you saw your mother drowns in a puddle of hers.

you'll die like her—

what an honor.

the more you think about the situation, the more you're led to believe that the only way to solve this was through death alone, with no restrictions, no buts or ifs. you've no fight left in your body, or any weapon to fight. you're drunk, defenseless and if you actually managed to escape, you'd still bleed to death in some unknown alleyway. if you're lucky, a stray police may find you and give you a proper burial. but you remember you're in the living incarnate of hell in america, you'll never have a proper death.

this was night in gotham. your death alone only adds to the already astounding high percentages of all the other lives lost to the same twisted fate. you were no different. and to die early than to suffer from torture is better.

i mean, who would give a shit if you die tonight, right? your family— wrong! alfred would panic at your disappearance, but he'll forget about you like he did others, you're sure of it. that's why he still chose to fucking serve the wayne's instead of fully taking your side. if he had to choose between saving you or the people he swore his loyalty onto, he wouldn't hesitate. you're sure. even if the thoughts made the doom in your heart heavier. even if you know your story would never be covered nor acknowledged, you still year

but life is unfair, everything is. that's why you're here now, in a dark fucking alleyway with men who'll more than take advantage of your dying body and leave your corpse in the dump after. life is unfair, yet it's even more cruel in gotham. you should've expected this, should've known that a turn of events could be possible. you'll feel regret in the afterlife, only for a life that could've been well-lived, but never for the choice of living through the torture you call being a wayne.

so you came to the conclusion; confident for once after living for thirteen and a half years walking on eggshells around a manor.

this is not as bad as their neglect.

you smile in response to the guy, genuine and filled with grace as your heart that once pounds against your chest now slows down to a calm pace, finally at peace. with no other intention than to rattle him even more, to the point of choosing you to kill with his own hands as brutally as he likes— so you finally take a well deserved rest from life.

you gather saliva at the center of your tongue, ignore the taste of blood that swirls, nor the soreness of your throat and the crimson dripping down your nose.

when he looks down at you, disoriented at what you're doing, you spit at him, all the beating in your heart hastened, yet slowed down as quickly as you heave in a final breath.

... you're finally going to die.

"FUCKING HELL, YOU DAMN CUNT—!"

you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the knife that would hopefully stab you in the face, or the chest, and think of your last thoughts. you thank alfred for caring for you for those thirteen years, you hope you win your mother's graces in the afterlife even if she discovered your deliberate choices for killing yourself in the spur of a moment, and you wish your old family a happy life living without you, even if they already did so for so long.

all you needed was seconds to conclude your prayers.

but they weren't answered as you wanted them to be, not when you open your wide eyes to what was supposed to be a glint of silver piercing through the middle of your face was replaced by a bullet, quick and precise, shooting through his cranium without mercy, body immediately laying limp within those seconds.

the other two behind him were good as dead, too, your savior not wasting any moment to end their lives then and there.

and as you stumbled from the grip released from your body, your torso nearly crumpling in on itself, a flash of familiar, metallic red enters your vision when you'd look up from your savior who's huge form now meticulously acts as your shield from the brutal carnage that lays upon your line of sight and a pillar of protection trying to help you stand from the pain that shot through your lower abdomen.

but you don't want to stand, you want to drop dead right now. you don't want this, you didn't want this to happen.

instead of gratitude, dread fills your lungs with water and your fingers were left to tremor.

he looks down at you, you couldn't make out his expression, but you could feel the anger coursing through his body, the same as the day you first met him when he was still newly rebirthed, like it's telling you of his unadulterated rage at witnessing the scene before him. his body shakes, heavily, and his grip on your hands tighten, a mechanical groan drawling deep from his automated voice banks that changes his voice.

yet all you feel was fear overtaking your entire body prior to the comfort at the prospect of death.

you'd rather die than this.

even you couldn't believe the whimper of his name from your wobbling lips, as your body, out of instinct despite the pain, tried to push itself against the wall, away from him.

he only moves to hold your waste protectively, like a... brother suffocating his younger sibling with blankets when they complain it's cold. overbearing, disgustingly affectionate; you don't want it.

you feel cold.

this day could've been any worse— and it took a turn to the all worse scenarios you could imagine.

"jason...?"

"angel..."

a single familiar name was spoken, yet a new nickname was introduced. angel: the same way jason swore what you looked like when he sped through his motorcycle after hearing a shriek from all across the streets, finding you, bleeding and beaten to a pulp, with your attacker almost stabbing you.

of course, who wouldn't hesitate pulling a gun against someone trying to kill your precious? jason doesn't even need to choose.

and whether he did it in the name of justice and respect to his moral code, or because finding someone with a familiar face, sharing the same hopeless, yet death-accepting expression as he did back when he died— it all doesn't matter in the heat of the moment now.

what matters is that his angel is hurt and the madness in him festers the longer you bleed out in his arms, defiant and fearful all the same.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

PLEASE READ: 11,000+ words. AND I LITERALLY HATE THIS CHAPTER (new least favorite fr) 😭 this decision is so impulsive i gonna regret it soon. chapter 5 will be released after a few days and i promise it has more action than this I SWEAR. first parts are always boring. anyways, there're so many song references in this chapter and for the next chapter. if any of you could guess what they are, i'll be rewarding all of you with something special. otherwise, please leave comments for this chapter! what motivated me to write was reading everybody's comments and inputs, about the love they have for this series as much as i do. interactions, asks, comments, they're all important and dear to me and i heavily appreciate it. so more interaction = more content. after all, i'd rather a post with little likes but with no interaction than a post with no interaction but all likes.

otherwise, i can't add anymore to my taglist so taglist requests are closed!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku , @okaybutfullhomo , @trasshy-artist , @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa , @ilovvmyhusband , @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony , @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts , @darling006 , @starringyau , @samanthahanes, @rosecentury , @jaythes1mp , @pi1nkl0ver , @i-thirsty-boy, @sharks-are-cool-l, @silverklaus, @traumaramacenter , @maddimoon , @anxrq, @thedarknesslord , @h0rr0r-10ver-69 , @lazy-idate , @cupids-pretty-boy , @alishii, @mel-star636 , @sitepathos , @freakyotaku059-blog , @dirtydiavolo, @sunbleachedantlers, @24hrsoflanii, @ceramic-raven , @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit , @tdickensstuff4 , @thickerthanthieves , @arlandvery , @distressed-lezbo, @bunbunboysworld , @bellethesleepypotato, @nebuluma, @alliwantisadonut, @alishii, @kusakiguzen, @sirenetheblogger, @emmbny, @ryukyuin, @solkara, @starsdotalk, @nightstarblue, @huhuhhuhh, @shadowpup163, @sunshine-skz, @24hrsoflanii, @bazellawrites, @pato-spoiler-27, @harumy07cat, @rains-mae, @funnybunnyxxx, @littlelilithspost, @howisgroguthiscute, @yuyuzi-ling, @tullipam, @coldcrusadehideout, @princessloveweird, @hybridcon

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karinasbaby · 5 days ago

Text

.. SO NO HEAD? *SMASHES PHONE* H.LINE + JW.

🪻pairing. ot5 enha x fem!reader (separate) warnings. THEY’RE ALL SO STUPID & UNSERIOUS !! (lovingly ofc) litr just the silliest ppl ever. grown adult shit, mdni. dirty talk & cursing, flo (the band) reference & sleepyhoon reference & freakhoonistan joke reference too ! unprotected sex, stupid arguments, rlly just awkward moments. like voice cracks and accidentally hitting oneself (someone slips and almost breaks his ass) n yeah.. word count. 6.7k a,note. pls ignore how jake litr looks high on the banner / photo. this is also the second most unserious thing ive written after the pussy eating competition. that being said, take this as a little teaser of my upcoming family feud (karinasbaby’s version) series :3

★ TAGLIST: @intromortal @bambiihee hai first time using my taglist welcome :3

IN WHICH.. a series of unfortunate circumstances that take place mid-fuck with your boyfriend.

aka enha being their own cockblockers! why need enemies when you have your own self?

യ LEE HEESEUNG.

for as long as you’ve known heeseung, he’s always had a questionable nature.

one that no longer made your eyebrows raise or your head hurt from just thinking about the why or the how of his behaviour. you’d gotten used to it ages ago, or atleast that’s what you told yourself.

because by some unknown, cursed miracle, heeseung still managed to surprise you every now and then by voicing out the most ridiculous thoughts or confessing his weirdest desires.

and while some of them were somewhat tame, like riding a jet ski while walking your overly active border collie or his amusing urge to build a snail shell collection with all the ones he finds in your backyard every morning (and while some of the shells had oddly disappeared, you’ve threatened him enough with moving out if you were to ever step on one.)

so all in all, your boyfriend’s personality was too much of a breath of fresh air sometimes. but nonetheless, you’d grown accustomed to his odd manners. what you haven’t gotten used to is their involvement in your bedroom life.

which might’ve been smooth in the beginning, with heeseung being the incredible partner he is. constantly checking in and putting your pleasure above his— he was practically the dream partner one would love to have during intimacy.

but once he asked to incorporate specific things from.. the bathroom into your bedroom activities, you should’ve known. because the second that crack formed? the whole dam broke entirely.

sure everything might’ve started off very innocently. like his sudden love to have candles lit on the bedside table, very romantic. but it slowly became un-romantic when he randomly suggested using his electric toothbrush as a vibrator when the one in your drawer refused to work.

and even through all of this, you still found him adorable because you knew he meant no harm. he was simply too.. invested when it came to certain matters. he wanted to help or impress no matter how strange the actions to do so will look like.

but sometimes.. it just becomes a tad too much.

“heeseung.. i cleaned the bathroom this morning. it’s still too slippery. i’m not risking one of us dislocating our hips just so we get to fuck under water.” here you were now, book in one hand and coffee in the other with a very sulky heeseung begging you for a round of shower sex.

which technically you would have no issue with. except the first day post cleaning the floors of your bathroom would be a bit too unreliable. and you would rather wait another day than have one of you possibly slide out of the bathroom completely naked. “but babe listen.. i really need to do this today.” and this time you had no choice but to close your book and settle your mug on the table. “literally why?”

heeseung avoided eye contact. his hand now scratching the back of his neck, “well.. we don’t do it that often. and i may or may not have seen a shower sex link—“ “you watched porn?” “no! well, yes. but— not in the way you think!”

you looked at him like he just called the law of gravity a myth. “.. so?” your boyfriend sighed. “so.. jake was scrolling on his phone— full brightness mode as always. and he scrolled past a video where.. you know.” his ears carried a tinge of pink to their tips. “i’m going to take a wild guess and say that the people in it were fucking while showering?” “well yes.”

“.. aaaand now you want to have shower sex? the same day that our floors are as slippery as a frozen lake?” you narrowed your eyes at him while folding your arms under your chest. “you’re willing to risk one of us falling just to have sex?” “well when you put it like that— no, there’s no guarantee of one of us falling first of all!”

this time your eyebrows furrowed while the tinge of pink travelled from his ears to his cheeks. “and there’s no guarantee of us not falling?” heeseung groaned. large hands rubbing down his face in frustration before dropping onto his lap— and oh. oh.

so that’s why he was so eager. you could practically measure his bulge that peeked from beneath his sweatpants.

“just trust me okay? i won’t let either of us slip.” but you still weren’t convinced. no matter how sincere and genuine his words sounded.. you knew how your floors were. and even though you should refuse, your eyes still peeked at his bulge that was barely covered by his hands. “.. okay but i’m not paying for any surgeries.”

and that’s how you landed in this position. chest pressed against the cold tiles while heeseung pushed his body to yours. warm water raining down both your figures as he slid his leaking cock in and out of your slick thighs, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your puffy clit while he spoke behind you.

“feels good? mhmm you’re already so wet. i can feel your pussy trying to suck me in, baby.” you could hear the way he was biting his lip from his words alone. eyes half lidded as he was trying his best to stay composed, even when you began to whimper his name and rocked your hips back against his grinding ones. “stop teasin’ seung.. just put it in.” and he chuckled.

hands now settling on your waist. “so impatient.. i know you want this just as much as i do.” and he finally started to angle his hips better, abdomen brushing along the curve of your ass as his tip began to poke into your sopping hole, making you sigh in relief.

and right as he began to push himself in— heeseung disappeared.

in the blink of an eye his warmth was nowhere to be found. heeseung fucking slipped.

“oh fuc—“ he barely was able to curse before a thud sounded in the bathroom louder than the running water and both of your moans combined. “heeseung?!” before you could even turn around you already saw his legs in the corner of your eyes.

he almost landed himself in the splits from the way his legs practically gave out on him.

“heeseung you— you dumbass i told you that we would break something!” and though it wasn’t the best time to scold him, not when he was still sitting butt ass naked on the wet and cold bathroom floor. you already knew this would happen. and to see your boyfriend now gripping his calf with his features twisted in pain— god it just made you realise how purely idiotic this was. “could you save the complaining for a few minutes?” his voice cracked.

“my leg is numb.”

“and literally who’s fault is that?” you helped him up, well tried your best to do so without slipping and landing on your ass too.

“you know what— yours! why the fuck are the tiles squeaky clean??”

“.. that’s what you’re blaming your stupidity on??”

so to make a long story short, the night ended with a blue balled, injured heeseung alongside a very sexually frustrated and irritated you.

യ PARK JONGSEONG

misunderstandings with jay weren’t that rare.

though the two of you had quite contrasting personalities and opinions, but the ability to figure out a common ground for both of you to settle on was a nice factor you shared.

some examples include jay’s persistence on opening the car door for you and pulling your chair back at any table. and even though on some occasions it wasn’t needed, meaning that you did said actions yourself but that didn’t sit well with him and .. it resulted in you being asked to go back inside the car or to sit up from your seat again.

or a few instances of movie nights going south because neither one of you could decide on a movie to watch. you didn’t want to settle for jay’s movie, jay didn’t want to watch frozen for the fifth weekend in a row, so the ending result was: both of you just sleeping.

but these were very harmless and miniscule moments.

the other misunderstandings that occurred were quite the confusing type.

to share a few of these thoughts with no penny offerings: that one time jay confused a bodyguard halloween costume.. for a lifeguard one.

maybe you were too excited to talk to him about your newest bodyguard costumes obsession, and jay being the sweet boyfriend he is, decided to dress up as one. except some mishaps in translation occurred.. and instead of jay appearing with suit and shaded glasses, he arrived shirtless with red shorts. (bonus points for still wearing shaded glasses.)

but it was a lighthearted and silly misunderstanding that resulted in your friend group needing a few minutes to recover from the laughter and you trying to cool down a very embarrassed and flushed jay.

or that one time jay began to fester feelings of resentment towards a reoccurring name in your conversations. michael. but the issue started when michael wasn’t just reoccurring, he became a constant reminder.

it was “oh michael loves shawls too!” sometimes and “michael would’ve loved to come here.” other times. and since this was still in the beginning of your relationship, jay tried his best to tolerate it.

but a man’s patience could only handle so much. especially jay’s very thin one.

it blew over one day. “you know i haven’t seen michael in weeks.. i wonder how he’s do—“ “why don’t you go to him?” jay suddenly snapped.

you blinked. “are you angry?”

“no.” but he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“yes you are.” “i’m just saying that if you want and miss michael so much. why not go to him? you’re wasting your time here with me anyway—“

“wait— jay hold up.” but he wouldn’t stop.

it was like all of his pent up anger and emotions began to spill “it’s like he’s your boyfriend. you always mention him wherever we go. it’s just— just go to him! i really don’t mind nor do i care. as long as you’re happy—“ “jay.” and he finally paused to take a deep breath.

he faced you now, eyes lowered and lips in a gut wrenching pout. “i don’t want to hold you back.” you were trying your absolute best to not smile now.

“jay..” his gaze flickered to your eyes, “jay michael is my mom’s dog.”

so it took maybe five to six days for him to fully recover after this incident. (but three entire months for sunghoon and jake to stop bringing it up.) but it was safe to say that after this one jay started to take heart to heart conversations very seriously.

ones where both of you would just lay your hearts out fully raw to one another, in order to not cause further stressful weeks for you two. (mainly jay.)

yet sometimes they still managed to slither back into your relationship. even when neither of you knew they were coming. their timings were hilariously impeccable.

like no one would expect a misunderstanding to happen mid jay pushing his cock inside of your drooling pussy. but it still did.

“oh fuck.. so tight, baby.. feels so good.” your boyfriend had you pressed onto the mattress. chest to your back while your hands gripped the sheets and his legs got tangled between yours. he slipped inside, easily and warmly. like your walls were greeting him back inside of them. and jay was on the verge of losing it every time you tightened.

his hips began to rock against yours, thrusting in and out loudly. “shit— jay you’re s’deep.. fuck.” and your hand slipped beneath you, toying with your clit as his tip kissed your cervix with each movement. “yeah? playing with yourself baby? keep going. wanna feel you cum when i fill you up.” he picked up the pace slowly, still letting you feel every inch of him as he stroked your dripping cunt.

and you whimpered. “fuck— please jay.” he pressed his face to your neck, hands gripping your hips to push you back to him. “you’d like that won’t you? wanna carry my baby, hm?” and you nodded, eyes rolling back when he continued to grind into your squeezing pussy. “yes— oh my god. please fill me up n’ get me pregnant.”

and here’s where things began to go south.

because jay— so lost in the feeling of your divine pussy and determind to fuck you full— misheard you. terribly.

he didn’t hear “get me pregnant”, his overstimulated brain registered it as “i am pregnant.”

at that thought, jay paused.

for a split second he thought to himself, were you joking? did you think that this was the best time to reveal it? how long had you been sitting on this piece of information? did he fuck you too good that you spilled a possible secret? if so why is it a secret?— considering he did also participate in making the baby? unless—

but whatever his thought process was cut off, it barely lasted long as he pulled out and sat on the mattress next to you. tears already glistening in his eyes with his palm pressed to his mouth.

and you, horny and mid-fuck abandoned you, was very confused.

“are you serious?” jay’s voice was barely a whisper, and now you were beyond confused. “jay are you okay?” he shook his head, some tears already slipping free from his eyes while he smiled the most heartwarming one you’ve ever seen on his face. “are you.. really pregnant?”

and oh no. oh no. he misheard you really badly.

“jay..” you carefully started, sitting up on your elbows now with your features sympathetic. “baby..” the idea of you breaking down the news to him now— after another stupid mishap stung. because jay looks like a kid on christmas morning.

but you had to do it before he began to freak out more.

“i don’t think you h—“ “baby this is huge!” he suddenly jumped on you, hugging and wrapping his arms around your waist while you yelped in surprise. “did you confirm it with a test? why didn’t you tell me?”

even though you were approximately three seconds too late to answer his first question, jay still took your unclear responses as a very clear yes when that wasn’t the case at all. and it was about to get even worse.

“jay—“ “can we go see the baby?” “jay i said ‘get me pregnant’ not i am pregnant.”

silence.

he froze, for the second time tonight.

deafening, awkward, icy silence.

“oh.”

you studied his features. the way his face remained stoic, like time stopped for a second for him once again. and now you began to feel nervous— was he going to hate you after this? angry? but you really didn’t mean for him to misunderstand anything—

but jay just smiled.

a calming, sheepish one. “well.. we can always try!”

and at his sweet acceptance, your heart swooned. this was your favourite part after having a misunderstanding with jay— just how quick he was to adapt, to accept the truth and figure out what to do with the honesty now. “yeah.. of course we can.” you pressed a loving kiss at his collarbone to which is giggled at.

“.. we have a lot of time to do so.”

and now the conversation took a sharp turn.

“jay.. we agreed for one round.” “nope! you can’t get my hopes up for nothing now. we have a mission to fulfill.” he smiled before pressing you back down onto the bed.

“now i’m going to turn one of our misunderstandings into a reality.”

യ SIM JAEYUN

jake had a talent, a gift when it came to annoying you.

whether it was by him teasing you on purpose, hiding your hair ties or leaving the toilet seat up. he just got a kick from seeing the pissed off look stuck on your face. oh and he loved to rub it in even more.

“sooorrryyyy about the ice cream baby.. you know i can get you a new one whenever you ask!” he yapped from the kitchen, slowly coming into the living room with that incredibly annoying smile on his stupidly charming face. “jake. it literally melted because you forgot it in the backseat. this is the third time it happens this week.”

and though he was cheesing at your anger as he sat in front of you. he would never let you be irritated for too long. he won’t ruffle your feathers for too long. or he wouldn’t make your blood boil too much— whatever it was, he would do it, but not too much.

which is why he hid an extra ice cream tub in the freezer so you won’t spot it.

so sure he did piss you off, but it was okay. his excuse was to make you feel better with his hands and maybe his cock before making you even happier by bringing you the ice cream tub to make it up for you and all this would actually make him thee most elated person on earth.

and in jake’s mind this was a double win situation. except it would be a double win situation if you faced him.

because right now, you were staring angrily at your television screen with your hands folded. not even sparing him a single glance, and it was time for jake to pull his card out of his sleeve. (one of many.)

act like you just got shot.

“ow!” his hand flew to his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt while his face twisted in faux pain. “my heart.. i just felt the first crack..” you rolled your eyes.

you huffed, and jake fell onto the couch.

landing right next to you with both of his hands gripping his collars like he was suffocating. “i can’t! oh my god— i’m dying, baby. i’m— i’m dying. i can’t do this, don’t you know that i live off of your attention?” his legs slumped and extended further under the coffee table.

and you just kept ignoring him. scooching away on the couch while jake groaned like he just got stabbed and you twisted the knife. “i’m on the verge of death— and you’re still not facing me?!” and this time his voice fully cracked.

“jake what the actual fuck?!” your boyfriend had to fight every single urge in his body to not smile at the frustration in your voice. “you had my ice cream melt in your car and now you have the nerve to act like this?” jake gasped loudly. “and you have the nerve to treat me like this? tell me when have i ever hurt you in any way.”

though the initial conversation in his head was more.. light, unserious even. he didn’t want to go too far, that was never his thing to do. but in order to have both of you calm down and for him to follow with his initial plan, he had to attempt to corner you now.

except it felt impossible because he could practically feel the steam simmering from your body.

“literally right now?! where is my ice cream when i asked you to buy it very kindly this morning because you kept forgetting all the other ones in your car?” you fully faced him this time. and he rubbed his palms all over his face. “this isn’t about ice creams right now. i have a whole new tub in the freezer that wasn’t melted and you don’t even know about it.”

you paused. “you— what?”

“just tell me. have i ever hurt you besides the silly stunts i pull just to have you roll your eyes at me for a few minutes?” his voice was lower now. body unexpectedly closer to yours as he was almost caging you down without you even noticing or realising. you couldn’t help the small gulp in your throat once you saw just how challenging his eyes were.

if there was another thing that also caught you off guard when it came to your boyfriend, well besides his knack for annoying you. it was just how quick he was able to shift demeanour and mood wise.

you shook your head, “i know they’re silly. and i just .. you know there’s a little part of me that likes them too. but i just really wanted ice cream today.” and there it was, admittance. at which jake raised his eyebrow in amusement “oh?”

“oh, shut up.” you attempted to push him away, attempted. but he was solid in his place as he cocked his head to the side and smiled. “nah baby.. so you’re telling me that you like it when i tease you, hm?” and you started to feel an unexpected warmth around your face.

you now pushed his face to the side. “no.. or maybe.” and jake laughed. a whole chest rumble as he let his body fall above yours making you both lay onto the couch. “so you were just being bratty then, yeah? is it nice to throw tantrums around just to have me on edge?”

“now you’re acting like you don’t do it on purpose.” glaring at him, you continued. “if i like it when you tease me, you love it when i act bratty.” jake sucked in a deep breath. completely caught.

“fuck yeah i do. because i can put you in your place when you start getting out of line.” he climbed off, settling on his knees with his face flushed and a crooked smirk on his features. jake was panting just the slightest bit, bottom lip stuck between his teeth as his hands roamed down from your waist to your thighs.

in response, you lifted your hips towards his touch. “and how are you gonna do that?” with your voice barely a whisper, jake’s eyes glinted in a dangerous way. like a challenge, like a warning. “wouldn’t you like to know..” his hands then moved towards his abdomen, reaching for his belt before he slid it off of his jeans’ hoops

his eyes never left yours as he folded the leather, one layer above the other before slightly pulling it. snapping it into place to let it crack in an intimidating message—

smack.

but the end of the belt didn’t lash in the air like it should’ve, oh no. it landed right on jake’s face. right on his cheek and the slap was nasty.

“ow!—“ “oh my god??” neither of you had time to even process just what had happened. a blooming redness painted on the site of the snap while the belt fell out of his hands and yours rushed to cup his face.

jake’s eyes were shut in pain. mouth still agape in a silent gasp while his palm pressed onto the wounded skin now. all the while you were trying your best to hold back your laughter.

but the small chuckle that escaped your lips— you really couldn’t help it.

his eyes snapped open. “oh we’re laughing now?” but he could barely speak. words slurry and garbled as his cheek was still being cradled by his palm and yours for emotional support. you shook your head in denial. “nope, not at all.” but your smile said otherwise.

“.. we’re never talking about this ever again.”

“never.. yeah.”

യ PARK SUNGHOON

quickies were never your kind of thing.

you disliked rushing, felt a despise towards rush hour. while sunghoon on the other hand had no choice but to depend on it.

demanding schedule and a demanding work. demanding boss and paperwork— you get the gist, he doesn’t have much time lately. neither of you knew about this before, how complicated and stressful his work could eventually become. and though the pay is great and the connections are even greater, sometimes you still missed when you and sunghoon were wrapped up alone in your own bubble.

but nowadays, especially for the summer, he barely had any time.

and when stress combines with a needy man’s body, it doesn’t always have the best reaction.

because now sunghoon felt the best way for him to blow off steam or to cool his mind down was to release it in some shape or form.

exercising helped, he picked up boxing once again and started to buff up more. he often settles down for calmer things to quiet down his mind, like how he joined in to crochet alongside you on a rainy night a few weeks ago.

the atmosphere was perfect and sunghoon had just gotten an email from his manager about a new due date, what was supposed to be his project that he had to submit by next month, was now pulled to next weekend.

so to put it very lightly, sunghoon was quite panicked.

but once he started to take it somewhat easier on himself and to manage his tense work life, sunghoon felt like he could breathe for the first time in what seemed like months.

and though it felt like your bedroom life was practically nonexistent now— he still tried his best to bring it back to life whenever he had the time to do so.

which is our topic of discussion today: your unfathomable dislike for quickies and sunghoon’s obsession with it.

it started off very quietly, very slowly. like the silent working of a spider in a random corner before you find a full blown web two weeks later. his first few excuses were that he had been needy since the night before and just now had approximately ten minutes to do something about it.

in the beginning it did annoy you. the rush of clothes being pulled off and the wild make out sessions— it wasn’t not enjoyable.. it was just a different approach to something you’ve grown to take your time with and relish in.

so you weren’t wholly against it per se, you just preferred sunghoon to dick you down properly in bed.

but it seemed like he had different plans, judging by the way he had a thing for begging, for pleading and dragging you into the closest rooms. you couldn’t tell if he had a kink for having sex out of nowhere or if it was the risk of being heard and caught.

either way, it started to rub off on you. no matter how much you wouldn’t admit it.

so when sunghoon’s fingers that were laced around yours tightened their hold suddenly, you already knew what was coming. and maybe.. just maybe it excited you just a bit.

caught up in the gala of his company— the same one that dried up your sex life like a desert before sunghoon swooped in and saved the day as usual, it was fancy to say the least. decorations and golden balloons were seen everywhere, elegant glasses and delicious canapés with names you didn’t even want to pronounce were being passed around by waiters that floated through the crowd.

it was quite the opulent and luxurious gala. definitely not the place to have a quickie in.

but sunghoon didn’t care. he was already leaning to whisper into your ear, “need you.. can we please go?” and you would be lying if you said that the tremble in his voice didn’t make your knees twitch, “hoon.. are you sure they won’t notice?” he quickly shook his head, “not at all, baby. look i can even ask jay to distract them.” and sure enough jay already heard your conversation the second his name was mentioned.

not that he could do anything besides glare at your moving figures as sunghoon pulled you into one of the hidden bathrooms.

empty and still looking oddly fancy, he locked the door behind you both after checking under the stall doors for a possible pair of feet— once cleared he pushed you against the wall, mouth instinctively littering kisses all around your neck when you groaned and threaded your fingers through his hair.

did you care that you were messing up his slicked back hair style? not really. did sunghoon himself care when he was pushing your silk dress above your hips just to push your panties to the side? not at all.

“looked so pretty.. saw everyone’s eyes on you the entire night. bet you loved it, hm? they all saw how beautiful you are.” he breathed out, the veins in his hands pulsing as he worked through both of your clothes while still refusing to detach himself from your neck. “but they don’t know how you look when you’re just with me.” he then pressed his lips to yours.

a heated, desperate make out session took place. with sunghoon licking into your mouth while you unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, “you could still ruin me now for them to see.. let all of them know what you do to me.” and at your words he smirked. like he knew, he agreed, and he will listen.

and right when his own hands reached towards his belt, sliding it halfway off then unbuttoning his pants and reaching for the zipper just to relieve his bulging cock— sunghoon yelped.

like an entire combination of a hiss and a panicked groan. and you looked down to a sight that would widen your eyes.

“sunghoon—“ “shit— i can’t pull it out—“

no it wasn’t his cock that was stuck. it was his finger.

stuck right into the harsh ridges of the zipper that were pulling at his own skin now, enough to have the delicate surface nicked. “are you fucking kidding me right now—“ you reached forward to hold his shaking hands, “calm down, be gentle.” and sunghoon whined.

“for fucks sake just when i got the chance to—“ your boyfriend couldn’t even finish his sentence before there was a bang bang on the door.

“sunghoon you idiot! you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants for just ten more minutes?! mr.lee is asking for you!” jay’s frustrated voice echoed inside of the bathroom, where sunghoon’s finger was still stuck in his zipper. and of course now was the perfect time for sunghoon’s boss to ask for him.

and now neither one of you knew which one was more embarrassing. the fact that you slipped out of the crowd to fuck in the bathroom or the fact that you couldn’t even fuck because sunghoon’s zipper decided to become have an issue with your pussy and his cock.

“are you serious?!” sunghoon yelled back, to which jay responded with a final rapid knock as if he was telling him to hurry up before his boss became suspicious.

“well..” you looked back at his pink and semi purple finger. “it’s either you go up to mr.lee with a finger in your zipper or with a bleeding finger.” and sunghoon wished that the ground would open and swallow him open in this current moment.

but then— you started to.. shimmy away? “.. where are you going?” “um..” sunghoon stared at you, finger still stuck in his pants with his cock now half hard, “i think it’ll be better if only one of us was taking a long time in the bathroom than both of us..” now sunghoon’s eyes widened.

a shocked smile painted his features. pure bewilderment on his face as he looked at you. “you wouldn’t dare..” but you were already unlocking the door, and right when sunghoon tried to reach out for you— “ouch! oh my god are you fucking serious right now—“

and you slipped right out of the bathroom. leaving behind a disheveled sunghoon with a broken zipper as you walked back into the gala after fixing your dress, one missing was better than two after all.

and sure enough, this particular incident will become a very popular one between your friend group.

if sunghoon’s frown with a finger wrapped up in toilet paper as he talked with your boss was anything to go by, well that and jake sneakily taking photos of your boyfriend to send into the group chat.

“yooo i never sunghoon was this down bad bro.”

യ YANG JUNGWON

jungwon was fairly new to sex.

hell he was fairly new to relationships. to having a partner, to fulfilling his boyfriend duties.

from sweet questions and check ins that he would have with you to panicked conversations with his friend that would get him basically nowhere so he would have to resort to google sometimes.

he was the cutest boyfriend you’ve ever had.

though he was awkward, shy pretty often, he still attempted his absolute best and gave it his all even when it costed him to throw away his dignity alongside his sanity. but jungwon had a problem, he could never say no to you.

it wasn’t just outright refusing you— it was just the thought of rejecting you and the chance to impress you.

now one might think that relationships have their own stages: the beginning, anxious stage where one or both parties are courting the other. and this one is basically the base for everything. this is where it will either work out or fail horribly.

the second one is the ‘honeymoon stage’ after the success of the beginning, it’s the constant need to be there. the urge to amaze one another to prove that there is a reason to stay. to love and to continue.

then there was the comfortability stage. finally settled, finally happy. there should be no need for jungwon to go out of his way to the store when you’re on your period only to buy every single pad size along with multiple chocolate bars even when you’re allergic to almonds— “you know, some people have actually recovered from their allergies so you’ll never know—“ “jungwon you already bought twenty different chocolate bars, i think if i avoid the almond one it’ll be okay..”

there should also be no need for jungwon fluff up your pillows whenever you complained about your body feeling sore, or to prepare an entire tray with different supplements and dishes with high protein when you mentioned in passing that you felt under the weather today.

because jungwon wasn’t only applying his knowledge about ‘princess treatment’ no, it was way beyond that. even worse than ‘monarch treatment’ he was still stuck in the honeymoon stage. still applying ‘let me impress you over and over again just so you’re happy in this relationship and stay treatment’

but you were already past that part. you couldn’t imagine yourself with anyone besides jungwon. your lives were already perfect.

did he spoil you? check (way more than needed sometimes)

loyalty? another check. matter of fact jungwon preferred to actually stay at home with you than hang out with his own guy friends.

any background checks? none needed at all. this was the same boy that found a five dollar bill on the street when he was eight and decided to go to the police station to give it back.

all in all, jungwon was like.. if a very loving marshmallow grew a brain and limbs.

he was perfect.

except he still tried to work on himself. to give even more than his all to your perfect relationship to avoid any possible cracks and problems.

which is why after doing some digging (in his defense, he overheard your call with your best friend, violet. and your voice was.. loud enough. no need for eavesdropping.) he realised that he was right.

he wasn’t perfect. he was lacking in one singular factor that you mentioned one time to violet, the bedroom.

“i really like it when someone talks dirty to me. i think i have a thing for dirty talk to be honest, vi.”

and jungwon was.. confused? worried? caught off guard? because with his inexperience in relationships, he wasn’t quite sure what you exactly meant by dirty talk.

because it surely can’t be your desire to have jungwon sexually talk to you while actively fucking you.

but unfortunately for jungwon (after doing an extensive search on every sketchy and oddly named website he could find) he found out that that’s exactly what you meant.

you wanted jungwon to engage in dirty talk. even though you never outright said this, jungwon still took it this way.

but jungwon is a solider. he’s not one to back down. if anything this whole ordeal just fuelled his need to surprise you even more. as the boyfriend that you chose, he’s ready to quite literally bend reality if you asked him to.

so what were a few sexually explicit words going to be against big and mighty jungwon?

a lot. apparently. a lot. very much so.

right now, jungwon was in the perfect situation. the opportunity twinkling like gold, the ball was in his field— whatever the phrase was it applied to him. this was the perfect time for him to initiate Plan A: Dirty Talk During Intercouse (Debut)

(note: he had no plan B or C planned after this.)

you were straddling him, nothing covering you except your flimsy skirt. ruffling under his hands that gripped your hips while yours were on his shoulders. and jungwon looked at you like you had hung the stars. even if he was balls deep inside of you right now.

“fuck won.. you feel s’good..” the praises fell effortlessly from your mouth and each one went straight to his twitching cock that was cradled by your pussy. jungwon was turned on, blushing, rock hard and was still trying to focus on his main goal.

dirty talk mid fuck. he’s got this, it’s no issue. it’s no problem.

he took a deep breath before “who’s pusˢʸ ᶦˢ ᵗʰᶦˢ—“

jungwon doesn’t think that there has ever been a moment in his life where he hated himself more than right now.

that one time his sister tripped him in front of his crush in elementary school? nope. or that other time he slipped on spaghetti on his first ever date where he couldn’t face the girl after? no, not that one either. even when his own mom brought up embarrassing overflowing diaper stories to his previous girlfriend’s mom? no.

if jungwon were to round up the amount of embarrassment he felt in those moments, it still wouldn’t amount to the absolute shame and humiliation he felt right now.

he had one job. one singular sentence to speak to you, and his voice cracked.

and now both of you were frozen.

“jungwon did you just-“ “don’t.” “did your voice—“ “please.”

and you had to suck a really deep breath in. anything to just not crack (no pun intended.) anything to hold back your laughter no matter how suffocating it felt. and thankfully jungwon still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“just.. why?” he heaved in, “i heard you saying you liked it.” “oh so you overheard me and vivi talking? and decided to just.. apply it?” the more you heard him speak with his voice barely loud, a mere whisper, like he had a fear now of speaking the more it made you smile harder. simply because of how heart meltingly adorable he was being with his flushed face. “i wanted to give it a try.”

see up until now jungwon was barely holding on by a thread and the more syllables left your mouth the thinner that thread became, “so you actually want to try dirty talk—?” what you weren’t realising was that you were shifting. way too much for a cock as hard and as sensitive as jungwon’s to handle, “wai—“ “do you even realise how cute you sounded?” “hoˡᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ—“

this time the issue wasn’t that his voice cracked like a teenage boy in puberty was again, it was the fact that he came too.

to add more gasoline, salt and lemon juice to the wound, the silence was absolutely silencing. you could not only hear a pin drop, but probably an ant walk too.

so jungwon, accepting defeat and shutting up his mouth just tapped your thigh, ignoring the way your shoulders were shaking from held in laughter and just pulled out. moving to sit on the couch with his elbows to his knees and his palms to his face.

“i’m genuinely never going to recover from this one.”

“yeah..” your voice was suspiciously wobbly. “it’s okay, won. it’ll pass and we’ll move on.” you sniffled.

“i’m gonna book three extra appointments with my therapist.”

a,note. hi this was so funny to write & wasn’t proof read so pls ignore any sentences that aren’t correct / don’t make sense but i rlly hope u enjoyed it !!! feedback is greatly appreciated :3

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neellscapsule · 16 days ago

Text

wayne's secretary

summary | working as bruce wayne's secretary was never an easy job, specially when you're terribly in love with him and he doesn't dare look back.

pairing | bruce wayne x kent!reader

warnings / tags | most fluffy, some angst, neglected feelings because reader thinks bruce doesn't see her as she sees him BUT HE DOES!!!he is just simply too much of a fool so we can add hurt/comfort

word count | 5.6k

authors note | hi there!! english is not my first languaje so there might be some mistakes, or not, it can depend :)

this is part of the kent!batmom!reader series. you don't need to read the other parts to understand this since this is about bruce and batmom's past.

BEING BRUCE WAYNE’S SECRETARY ISN’T FOR THE WEAK.

You figured that out about three hours into your first day on the job. You’d walked into the sleek, glass-walled office on the 40th floor of Wayne Enterprises with your little notebook clutched in your hands, fresh off the Kent Farm and still smelling faintly of hay and sunscreen, heart pounding in your chest like a scared rabbit. You’d been prepared for a challenge. You hadn’t been prepared for Bruce Wayne.

The tabloids don’t do him justice.

Sure, they get the broad strokes right. Tall. Ridiculously good-looking. Billionaire. Occasionally seen with models or philanthropists or both on his arm. But they miss the quiet intensity that follows him into every room like a storm cloud, the way his blue eyes could pin you in place with one look, or how his voice, deep and smooth like whiskey, can make your stomach twist in knots even when he’s just telling you to rearrange his schedule for the fifth time that morning.

Actually, it’s a brutal, gladiatorial occupation requiring the patience of a saint, the multitasking ability of a NASA mission control operator, and the emotional resilience of someone who doesn’t cry when a perfectly good apple pie burns.

You are not that someone.

But you try. Lord, do you try.

You’re not sure if it’s the Kent in you or the catastrophic crush you’ve been carefully tending to like a forbidden summer bloom, but you don’t give up. No. You set your alarm for 5:00 AM every day, you iron your skirts and blouses the night before, and you march into Wayne Enterprises with a to-go cup of black coffee that could wake the dead.

You take his calls. You reschedule meetings when Bruce inevitably disappears—out for “personal reasons” that you’re not allowed to question. You politely field phone calls from ex-lovers who think they can just waltz back into his life. You smile through tight teeth when angry supermodels demand an audience with “Brucie.”

“Miss Kent.” His voice cuts through your daydreams as you fumble with the office phone. You curse under your breath—quietly, because you’re still a Kent and Ma raised you better—before turning toward him.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” You push your chair back, notebook ready, pen poised like a weapon of mild administrative warfare.

Bruce glances at the clock on the wall. He’s wearing one of those immaculate, tailored charcoal suits that probably cost more than your entire apartment.

“There’s a board meeting at noon. I need the quarterly reports from R\&D printed and summarized.” He pauses, eyes narrowing just slightly. “And cancel lunch with Veronica.”

Veronica. Right. The supermodel. One of the many.

You nod, scribbling it down. “Of course.”

His gaze lingers for a second longer than necessary, unreadable, before he turns and retreats to his office, the door shutting with a soft click. You exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the familiar ache settling in your chest.

Because Bruce Wayne doesn’t see you.

Not really. Not the way you see him. He sees a secretary. Efficient. Professional. The girl from Kansas with a polite smile and too many pens in her purse. Meanwhile, you see him—the man behind the Gotham mask, sharp-edged and distant, carrying the weight of an entire city on his shoulders.

And you’re in love with him.

Hopelessly, stupidly, painfully in love.

It’s not ideal.

This is fine. Totally fine. This is the job.

Sure, he makes you take calls from the kinds of women who have their own perfume ads and the press on speed dial, but that’s fine. Sure, he makes you memorize his calendar like your life depends on it, but fine. Sure, sometimes he leaves you with half his workload and the other half of his headaches, but fine.

You didn’t move to Gotham to have a soft, easy life. You moved here because a friend had recommended you and you needed the job, even if your parents were more than happy to let you live on the farm. At first, it was very difficult.

Renting an apartment had been the worst part. Gotham wasn't anything like Smallville, or even Metropolis, where your brother lived. Much more dangerous and dark, but just as beautiful. So, you'd ended up in a moderately affordable building with a small balcony that you'd filled with plants.

And not to mention how the people there weren't even a third as polite. How they gave you weird looks whenever you mumbled a "sir" or a polite "ma'am," but that could also have been because the Kansas accent had become so engrained in you, refusing to leave.

But you’d gotten good at reading Bruce. You had to. He was many things—Gotham’s most eligible bachelor, impossible perfectionist, a certified menace to your daily stress levels—but predictable in his routines. You’d memorized the way his brow twitched when a board member droned on too long, the faint edge in his voice when he asked you to "reschedule" a dinner with some socialite (which always meant cancel entirely), and the carefully contained glances he cast your way when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

Of course, maybe that last part was just your imagination.

Because if Bruce Wayne actually looked at you the way you looked at him, well… you'd probably combust right there behind your tidy little desk outside his office.

But no. You were just his secretary. The secretary with a too-big crush, a closet full of pretty, neatly pressed dresses, and a last name that carried weight only in your home place.

“Y/N?”

His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, rich and low and way too dangerous for this early in the morning. You looked up, startled to find him standing in front of your desk, broad-shouldered and devastating handsome.

You tried not to let your eyes linger on the cut of his jaw or the perfect, infuriating way his dark hair fell over his brow.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. You never called him that unless you were flustered—or hiding something.

“The schedule for today?” he prompted.

Right. His schedule. You were supposed to be a professional. You snatched the leather-bound planner off your desk and opened it with practiced precision.

“You have a ten o’clock with Lucius Fox, followed by a board meeting at eleven. Lunch is with Mr. Park from the GCPD charity board—”

“Cancel lunch.”

You blinked. “But—”

“Park only scheduled it to pitch more PR appearances. I’m not interested.”

You hesitated. “Should I tell him you’re busy or—”

“Tell him I’m unavailable. If he presses, tell him I’m allergic to public relations.”

Despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. Bruce caught it, the faintest glint of amusement flickering in his eyes before it vanished behind that familiar, stoic mask.

“And tonight,” you continued, clearing your throat, “there’s the Wayne Gala.”

His expression didn’t change, but you swore you caught a flicker of resignation in his gaze.

“You’re still attending, right?” you asked, fighting the urge to fidget with your pen.

Bruce’s eyes settled on you in that way that made your heart stutter—steady, intense, unreadable.

“Are you attending?” he countered, voice deceptively neutral.

You frowned, momentarily thrown. “I… well, I wasn’t invited.”

“You’re my secretary.”

“Technically, yes, but—”

“You organized the entire event.”

You ducked your head, heat creeping into your cheeks. “I just coordinated. It’s not the same.”

His jaw flexed, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But then, without warning, he leaned down, palm braced against your desk, invading your personal space just enough to short-circuit your brain.

“Be there,” he said simply, voice low and final.

Your throat went dry. “O-Okay.”

He straightened, adjusted his cufflinks, and walked back into his office, leaving you staring after him like a lovesick idiot.

But here’s the thing.

He does see you.

Bruce Wayne notices everything.

The way you hum when you’re overwhelmed with scheduling requests. How you bring a spare cup of coffee to your desk at exactly 9:15, just in case he needs it. The worn denim jacket from Smallville you sometimes forget on the back of your chair. How your smile never quite reaches your eyes sometimes.

You think he doesn’t care.

But he does.

He cares more than he should.

Because for the first time in years, he finds himself looking forward to Monday mornings. To your quiet, determined voice filtering through the intercom. To your handwriting on his notes.

But he’s a fool.

A coward.

And so he stays quiet.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of phone calls, emails, and one very aggressive supermodel threatening to “storm the building” if Bruce didn’t return her messages. You handled it, like always, smiling politely, making apologies, and filing it away as just another day in the impossible life of Bruce Wayne’s secretary.

But tonight—the gala—it was different.

The Kent in you was screaming this is a bad idea. Smallville had taught you to keep your feet on the ground, your head clear, and your heart safe.

But Gotham had other plans.

By the time you arrived at Wayne Manor, you felt wildly underdressed, even in your nicest gown—soft blue satin that hugged your figure and made your eyes stand out in the dim light. The manor buzzed with the city’s elite: sharp suits, glittering dresses, whispered gossip trailing behind every conversation.

The party swirled around you like a glittering storm of perfume, champagne, and barely concealed arrogance. You sipped at your glass, nerves humming just beneath your skin, but you stayed grounded. For now.

Until you saw her.

Bruce stood across the room near the grand staircase, his expression cool, unreadable—but beside him, clinging to his arm like a designer handbag, was a woman you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.

Tall. Blonde. Sun-kissed skin that practically glowed under the chandelier light. Her gown shimmered in the low light, the cut sleek and expensive. She was the kind of woman that belonged in Bruce Wayne’s world. The kind that laughed easily at whispered jokes, who made socialites stare with jealousy and men stare with want. She tilted her head, smiling at him with practiced charm, a hand lightly resting on his chest as she spoke.

And Bruce—he’s not brushing her off. He’s not pulling away. He’s standing there, listening, patient, polite. His expression is carefully neutral, but you know him. You’ve studied him like a language, and you see it—the tiny flicker of amusement when she says something clever, the faint dip of his head when she leans in.

Your heart sank like a stone tossed into deep water.

You looked away, swallowing the bitter ache rising in your throat. Of course. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him with women before. Supermodels. Heiresses. Gotham’s elite tripping over themselves for a chance to stand where she stood now.

You set your glass down with more force than necessary, turning on your heel before your emotions betrayed you. The last thing you needed was to cry into your free bar champagne.

The room blurred as you weaved through the crowd, determined to find some breathing space, anywhere but here.

That’s when you found the bar—and her.

A woman leaned casually against the polished counter, swirling amber liquid in her glass with delicate fingers. Her short black hair framed her face in soft waves, dark as ink, contrasting beautifully with lightly tanned skin and sharp, green eyes that glittered with curiosity as she noticed you approach.

The bartender barely had time to greet you before the woman spoke first, voice smooth and low, with a teasing edge that wrapped around you like silk.

“Well, aren’t you just a breath of fresh air?”

You blinked, momentarily startled. “I… what?”

She smiled, slow and warm, like she was entirely unbothered by the sharp edges of this world. “You look like you wandered in from somewhere far, far away.” Her gaze drifted down your frame, lingering on your still-slightly-flushed cheeks and the soft blue satin of your gown. “Somewhere real.”

A small laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “Smallville, actually.”

Her lips curved in amusement. “Figures.”

You slid onto the stool beside her, grateful for the unexpected reprieve from your spiraling thoughts.

“I’m Selina,” she offered, raising her glass. “Selina Kyle.”

“Y/N,” you replied, smiling despite yourself.

Selina’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Pretty name. Pretty girl. What’s your excuse for looking like you’d rather be anywhere else?”

You hesitated, tempted to brush it off, but something about her—maybe it was the friendly smirk or the purring warmth in her voice—made it easy to be honest.

“I work for Mr. Wayne,” you admitted, fiddling with your bracelet. “Secretary. Calendar wrangler. Human voicemail inbox.”

Selina’s expression morphed into something wickedly teasing. “That explains the heartbreak face.”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s not… I mean, I—”

“Relax, sweetheart.” She waved a hand dismissively. “You’re not the first, and I’m guessing you won’t be the last.”

You groaned softly, burying your face in your hands. “Is it that obvious?”

Selina chuckled, the sound light and unjudging. “Only to someone who’s been there. You’ve got the look.” She took a sip of her drink, eyes softening. “Trust me, men like Bruce? They notice more than they let on.”

You lifted your head, doubtful. “Not him. He’s…” You sighed. “He’s different.”

Her smirk widened like she knew a secret you didn’t. “Aren’t they all?”

Despite the ache still clinging to your chest, her flirty, easy confidence soothed some of the sting. You chatted for a little while longer—about Gotham’s ridiculous social scene, expensive shoes, and how impossible it was to find decent coffee in this city. Slowly, the tightness in your chest loosened, replaced by the quiet comfort of unexpected companionship.

But happiness in Gotham never lasted long.

The collision was entirely accidental. You’d been making your way through the crowd again, half-lost in thought, when it happened.

The champagne flutes on her hand dangerously, and one tips, spilling its fizzy, golden contents all over the front of your dress. The cold is immediate, sharp against your skin, seeping through the delicate fabric and turning the soft blue satin dark and sticky.

You gasp, instinctively reaching for a napkin, already sputtering out apologies.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

But the woman’s gaze sweeps over you like you’re something stuck to her shoe. She’s impeccably dressed—pearls, tailored silk, not a hair out of place—and her expression drips with disdain.

“You should watch where you’re going,” she snaps, her voice clipped, precise, and cruelly condescending. “Clearly, you’re not used to being at events like this.”

“I—um—I didn’t mean—”

“Obviously not,” she cuts in, eyes raking over your soaked dress with thinly veiled disgust. “But what can you expect from… assistants.”

Something ugly twists in your stomach. It’s not even the words—it’s the way she says it. Like you’re beneath her. Like you’re a stain on the carpet. And worst of all, she’s not the first to think it.

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes burning.

“Excuse me,” you whisper, your voice barely steady.

You turn sharply and flee, weaving through the glittering guests, past chandeliers and waiters and couples who don’t notice you’re unraveling. You burst through the manor doors and into the night, the rain hitting you like cold glass.

The sky is heavy, dark, and pouring, but you barely feel it over the ache in your chest, the humiliation clawing up your throat. You raise your hand, waving desperately until a cab finally screeches to a stop, and you slide inside, your soaked dress clinging to your skin, your heart pounding wildly.

“Address?” the cabbie grunts.

You rattle it off quickly, voice thick with tears you refuse to let fall—not here, not yet.

The ride home blurred past the rain-streaked window. By the time you reached your small apartment, your teeth chattered and your heart ached with embarrassment so sharp it made your chest physically hurt.

Inside, you stripped out of the soaked gown, trembling hands fumbling with the fabric. The champagne stain spread across the satin, stubborn and taunting.

Warm pajamas—fleece, oversized, impossibly soft—helped, but not enough to quiet the storm inside you. You sat on the floor by the sink, the dress clutched in your lap, damp with tears as you scrubbed at the stain in vain.

The first sob broke free quietly, and then another, until your shoulders shook, and you pressed your forehead to your knees.

Your phone buzzed on the counter. You ignored it at first, but when it buzzed again—your mother’s name lighting up the screen—your resolve crumbled.

You swipe to answer, voice trembling. “Hey, ma.”

Her voice wraps around you like a quilt. “Hi, sweetheart. Thought I’d check on you. You were on my mind tonight.”

You swallow, the knot in your throat threatening to choke you. “It was a long night.”

“Tell me.”

So you do. You tell her about the gala, about the pretty blonde, about the woman who made you feel small, about the rain and the taxi and the stupid, ruined dress.

Ma listens to every word, soft murmurs of comfort filling the quiet between your sobs.

“Oh, honey,” she says finally, her voice tender and steady, like home. “You know what I always told you. People can only make you feel small if you let them.”

“I know,” you whisper, curling into yourself. “But sometimes it’s hard not to.”

“I know it is. But you’re a Kent, sugar. You’ve got more heart than that whole city combined. Don’t let some snooty woman take that from you.”

You sniff, wiping at your eyes. “The dress is probably ruined.”

“Clothes can be replaced. My girl can’t.”

Your chest aches, but the edges start to soften.

“And besides,” Ma continues gently, “the year’s almost done. Christmas is right around the corner. Why don’t you come home for a bit? We’ll put you to work on the farm. Your father's been asking when he’ll see you next.”

You smile faintly, the image of the old farmhouse glowing warmly in your mind. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Come home, baby,” she said softly. “For as long as you want.”

“Okay,” you whispered, the exhaustion catching up to you. “I’ll come home.”

And for the first time that night, you let yourself breathe.

Until a loud, metallic noise startles you.

“What was that?” your mother’s voice crackled through the tiny speaker, concern lacing her words even from miles away.

You stood frozen in your living room, heart lurching up to your throat. It had come from the balcony. Something heavy. Something… metallic? The rain outside still battered against the glass, wind howling like it was personally offended.

“Probably… the wind,” you tried to sound calm, but your voice wobbled.

“Wind doesn’t sound like that, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t exactly argue.

Your eyes darted around your modest apartment, landing on the first potential weapon in sight—the old, battered broom leaning against the kitchen wall. It wasn’t exactly an impressive choice, but it was better than facing Gotham’s nightlife with bare hands.

“Ma, I gotta go,” you whispered, grabbing the broom in a white-knuckled grip.

“Y/N—”

“Love you,” you interrupted softly, already creeping toward the balcony. “Kiss Pa for me.”

You hung up, slipping the phone onto the counter, broom clutched like a sword as you edged toward the sliding balcony door. Peeking through the glass, your eyes narrowed in confusion. The balcony was dark, but even with the rain streaking the glass, you could make out a broad shape slumped among your poor, potted plants. Your gaze sharpened.

A man?

His cape—or was that a coat?—dragged heavily on the soaked ground, the fabric clinging to his frame. The dim city light caught the unmistakable shape of pointed ears rising from the silhouette of his cowl. Unmoving except for the faint, labored rise and fall of his chest. His shoulders sagged slightly, like they were carrying the weight of the world—or at least tonight’s injuries.

A bat mask. A symbol that had been plastered all over Gotham’s tabloids for months now.

The Batman.

Your eyes widened. "Oh my God…”

Your pulse thudded against your ribs, nerves tangled with curiosity. He wasn’t threatening, not like this. He looked… exhausted. Slumped awkwardly on one side, one gloved hand bracing against the floor as if trying—and failing—to push himself upright.

The other hand pressed tightly to his torso. Even in the dim light, you could see dark, wet streaks staining his suit.

Blood.

The logical part of your brain reminded you: he beats up criminals, not civilians. You were safe… mostly. Still, your fingers tightened around the broom handle, and—against all better judgment—you poked him lightly in the side with the bristles.

“Uh… hey,” you called softly, voice higher than usual. “You okay there, big guy?”

There was a beat of silence. Then, his head tilted up, and even behind the intimidating mask, you could feel the weight of his stare settle on you.

The intensity made you freeze for a heartbeat—but you noticed the tension in his shoulders loosen, just slightly. He wasn’t here to hurt you.

The Batman—Gotham’s Batman—was hurt. And… on your balcony.

This city was ridiculous.

You lowered the broom slightly, heart racing. “Are you… gonna pass out? Or… need help?”

His breathing was heavy beneath the mask, but after a pause, he managed a rough, gravel-edged reply. “Help… would be… good.”

You hesitated only a second longer before setting the broom aside. The Kent in you—years of patching up scraped knees, stubborn farm injuries, and now your brother’s occasional “training bruises”—kicked in.

“Alright, c’mon,” you muttered, slipping your arm under his. “Let’s get you inside before you drown out here.”

It took effort, but between his stubbornness and your determination, you managed to half-guide, half-drag him inside. Rainwater dripped from his cape and suit, puddling onto your floor. Your poor couch squelched as he collapsed onto it with a heavy, pained grunt.

You grimaced. “Okay, we’ll… deal with the couch later.”

First aid. You needed the first aid kit.

You grabbed the small, dented metal box from the kitchen cabinet, snapping it open to see what was inside. It wasn’t exactly stocked for vigilante wounds, but it would have to do.

You returned to the living room, dropping the kit beside him and kneeling at his side, crossing your legs beneath you. Your gaze flicked over him—his gloves were off now, discarded on your coffee table, his bare hands braced on his thighs.

But it wasn’t his hands that worried you.

The blood staining his side caught your attention—the dark smear spreading across his suit, seeping from beneath the armored plates.

Your fingers hovered uncertainly.

“Hey… uh, I’m gonna help you, alright?” Your voice was soft but steady. “But I can’t get to that with all… this.”

Your hand gestured vaguely toward the torso section of his suit.

For a long, tense moment, he didn’t move. The air between you thickened with unspoken questions. Then, finally, with slow, methodical movements, he reached up, fingers finding the subtle seams at the sides of his suit.

The chest armor loosened, peeling away to reveal scarred, marked skin beneath.

Your breath hitched.

Broad, muscular, every inch of him screamed strength and experience—the kind of body molded by years of brutal training and hard-earned scars. Bruises bloomed across his ribs in shades of deep purple and blue, some old, some alarmingly fresh. A shallow gash bled sluggishly along his side, the likely source of the stain.

Professional. Be professional, you scolded yourself.

“This’ll probably sting,” you warned, voice quiet.

Grabbing gauze and antiseptic, you began to clean the wound with careful, practiced hands.

As you dabbed carefully at the wound, the alcohol making him hiss softly through gritted teeth, you fought to keep your hands steady.

He remained silent for several beats, watching you with unreadable eyes beneath the shadow of his cowl. Then, his voice rumbled low, unexpectedly cutting through the quiet.

“You’ve been crying.”

Your hands stilled.

You didn’t meet his gaze immediately, focusing instead on dabbing antiseptic along the edges of the gash.

“Sharp observation,” you replied lightly, but your voice betrayed you—soft, shaky, raw around the edges.

His eyes softened—barely noticeable, but there.

“Why?”

The question hung between you, heavy and sincere. No judgment. No mocking curiosity. Just… quiet concern.

You hesitated, biting your lower lip as you worked. The gauze wrapped around his torso with steady, if slightly trembling, fingers.

“A party,” you admitted finally, taping the bandage in place. “Someone ruined my dress. Said I didn’t belong.”

His eyes never left yours.

“Gala?”

You nodded, the corner of your mouth twitching bitterly. “Wayne Gala.”

The words hung between you for a second, quiet, but not empty.

Batman’s eyes narrowed just slightly. There was a flicker of something beneath the surface.

“Did something happen there?” His voice stayed low, that smooth, rasping tone that carried authority, but there was an edge of something softer to it now. Less like the Batman of headlines. More… human.

You shrugged lightly, returning your attention to the emergency kit as you began packing away the supplies, the soft rattle of gauze and bandages filling the space between your words.

“Nothing unusual for a Wayne party,” you replied, trying to sound dismissive, but your voice caught just a little. You could still feel the sting of that woman’s words clinging to you like smoke. “Fancy people with expensive shoes and sharper tongues. That’s Gotham.”

His gaze didn’t waver, even as you busied your hands. “Someone upset you.”

It wasn’t a question. You hated how easily he saw through you. You pressed your lips together, not looking at him as you spoke.

“It’s not a big deal,” you lied. “Just some socialite who thinks anyone without a trust fund shouldn’t breathe the same air as them.”

A pause. You risked a glance at him.

The corners of his mouth tightened, and even though the mask covered most of his face, you could feel the disapproval radiating off him. Not at you—but at the situation. At whoever had made you feel small tonight.

“You don’t believe that, do you?” His voice was quieter now, laced with a firm, grounded certainty that sent a shiver down your spine.

You shrugged again, this time weaker. “Doesn’t really matter what I believe. You’ve seen the crowd Bruce Wayne runs with.” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully, eyes drifting to his injured side before flickering back up. “People like me… we don’t fit.”

His jaw flexed. “People like you?”

You let out a quiet, breathy laugh, shaking your head. “Small-town girl with a Metropolis zip code. A Kent. I grew up feeding cows and fixing fences. The fanciest thing I owned back home was a Sunday dress from Sears.” You pulled the blanket around your legs a little tighter, voice dropping with vulnerability you couldn’t quite hide. “Now I answer phones for the richest man in Gotham and try not to drown in places I clearly don’t belong.”

The silence stretched after your confession, heavy but not uncomfortable. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

“You belong,” he said simply, like it was fact—not up for debate. “Don’t let people like that convince you otherwise.”

Your eyes snapped to his, startled by the quiet sincerity behind the words. The shadows softened him for a moment, the harsh lines of the cowl blending into the dim light, but the conviction in his voice stayed.

You exhaled, some of the tightness in your chest easing. “You’re not what I expected, y’know.”

He tilted his head slightly, curious. “No?”

You smiled faintly, relaxing into the couch’s armrest. “All those stories… newspapers, rumors. You’re supposed to be this terrifying, ruthless vigilante. Gotham’s monster in the shadows.” Your eyes traced over him—tired, soaked, bruised. “But you’re… different.”

He let out a low sound that might’ve been the ghost of a chuckle. It was rough, brief, but real.

“I can be terrifying,” he teased, and for the first time tonight, the tension in your apartment cracked just a little, warmth slipping in through the cracks.

Your smile widened despite yourself. “I’ll believe it when you stop bleeding all over my floor.”

His mouth quirked again, the expression faint but not entirely hidden.

A beat of silence passed, comfortable now. The rain outside tapped steadily against the glass doors, a constant hum filling the space.

Then, he shifted slightly, his broad shoulders easing back against the couch, some of the tension bleeding from his posture. His hand pressed lightly to the gauze at his side, checking your handiwork.

“You’ve done this before,” he observed, his gaze drifting over the neatly wrapped bandage.

“Farm,” you answered simply. “Kent household is a masterclass in minor medical emergencies.” You gestured vaguely. “Cuts, scrapes, falling off tractors… patching up stubborn men.”

The corner of his mouth tugged, and your heart did a small, traitorous flip at the sight.

“You handle this better than most,” he admitted quietly.

You arched a brow, teasing. “What, bleeding strangers collapsing on my balcony? Sure, happens all the time.”

“Could’ve called the cops,” he pointed out, watching you closely.

You shrugged, voice light but sincere. “Didn’t think they’d patch you up.”

Another pause. His eyes never left you.

“And… you believe I’m not here to hurt you?”

It was a serious question, but you smiled softly, warmth creeping into your expression as you leaned in, resting your chin on your hand.

“I don’t think you’d let me shove a broom at you if you were the type to hurt civilians,” you teased. Then, softer, “Besides… you save people.”

His eyes darkened with something unreadable, but not dangerous. He didn’t deny it.

You hesitated, then added quietly, “I’ve seen the news. You stop muggings. Get kids out of danger. You might scare the criminals… but you help people.”

The admission settled in the air between you, thick with quiet honesty.

“You’ve been watching me,” he noted.

You rolled your eyes. “Everyone’s been watching you.”

His gaze was sharp, steady—watchful even in exhaustion.

“Y’know,” you began, your voice breaking the quiet, “I didn’t exactly picture my Saturday night ending like this.”

A brow under the cowl arched faintly. His lips twitched—barely—but you caught it.

“Unexpected house guests are common in Gotham?” he asked, voice low, rough, that rasp unmistakable even softened by fatigue.

You shrugged lightly. “Usually it’s angry or drunk neighbors, not six-foot-something vigilantes falling on my plants.”

His eyes drifted toward the balcony door, lingering on the flattened pots, the shattered ceramic.

“Apologies for the casualties,” he muttered.

You smiled despite yourself. “They were on borrowed time anyway. This city’s got terrible sunlight.”

A quiet hum left him, almost a huff of amusement if you were being generous.

You watched him for a moment longer, curiosity outweighing caution now that the shock had settled. His broad frame was hunched slightly, weight shifted to one side to avoid putting pressure on the bandaged gash. The blanket draped awkwardly over his shoulders, the edges damp but slowly drying from the apartment’s warmth.

For a man built like a walking warning sign, he looked oddly… human.

“Is this… normal for you?” you asked carefully. “The whole ‘bleeding on strangers’ furniture’ thing?”

“Occupational hazard,” he replied simply.

You tilted your head, biting back a grin. “Danger pay included?”

His eyes slid back to yours, sharp as glass. “Wouldn’t recommend the career path.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning to join,” you teased, your fingers absently tugging at a loose thread on your pajama pants. “I think I’m barely surviving my current job.”

A pause.

“You work for Wayne,” he stated again, the certainty in his voice settling over the room like fog.

You exhaled a soft laugh. “You’ve got an impressive memory for someone half-delirious on my couch.”

His head tilted faintly, studying you. “It’s… noticeable.”

“What is?” you prompted, curiosity peeking through.

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes lingered on you, unreadable under the shadowed mask. You waited, letting the silence stretch, expecting him to evade the question entirely.

But instead, his voice came quiet. Honest.

“You stand out,” he admitted.

You looked at him then, surprised by the sincerity tucked between the words. You swallowed, wetting your lips, forcing your eyes down to your hands to keep from staring, and, instead, you shifted topics, easing the tension.

“Bet this isn’t your first run-in with Gotham rooftops.”

His lips quirked faintly. “Rooftops, alleys, warehouses… name it.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “That’s one way to see the city.”

“Best way,” he replied simply.

“Define ‘best’,” you teased, your tone soft, lightening the mood.

A pause. His eyes lingered on you, thoughtful.

“Most honest,” he answered.

You smiled faintly, leaning back against the couch. “Guess you’d hate my job then.”

“Secretary?” His brow arched. “Nothing honest about it?”

You laughed softly. “Depends who you’re working for.”

A longer pause this time.

“And Bruce Wayne?” he prompted carefully. “What’s the verdict?”

You hesitated, pulse tripping unexpectedly. Careful. Careful.

“He’s…” You chose your words, fingers twisting your pajama sleeve. “Complicated.”

His eyes narrowed faintly, curious.

“Most days, I think he’s impossible,” you admitted, your voice quiet now, honest in a way you hadn’t planned. “He’s cold, distant… expects everything and says almost nothing.”

“And the other days?”

You smiled to yourself, gaze drifting to the rain-slick windows. “The other days, I think… maybe he’s just lost. Or tired. Or carrying more than he lets anyone see.”

The silence that followed was thick. Heavy. You could feel his eyes on you, steady, lingering.

Finally, his voice cut through the quiet again—rough, softer now.

“People notice more than you think.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t elaborate, only watched you with that same unreadable intensity, shadows curling at the edges of his expression.

The room settled into quiet again. The rain softened, tapping faintly against the glass.

And that’s when your gaze shifted—sliding down the sharp slope of his cheekbone, the curve of his jaw.

Strong. Defined. Familiar in a way that made your stomach twist with quiet realization.

Your eyes lingered on his mouth—lips you’d seen pressed into faint, disapproving lines during board meetings, biting back frustration during impossible phone calls, curled ever-so-faintly in quiet amusement when he thought you weren’t looking.

You’d stared at Bruce Wayne's mouth more times than you cared to admit. It was hard not to when you were sitting across from him most days, fielding angry calls from supermodels and rearranging his schedule on a dime.

And now, up close, barely away from you, with his cowl hiding everything but his jaw, his lips…

You recognized him.

The sharp line of his jaw. The curve of his cheek. The slope of his mouth.

Bruce Wayne.

It hit you like a punch to the ribs.

But you didn’t say anything.

Your heart hammered wildly, your mind spinning, but you kept your expression carefully neutral.

You shut your mouth.

And he… didn’t notice. Or he did—and he didn’t care.

His eyes drifted to the window again, watching the rain streak down the glass, the faintest ghost of exhaustion settling over his expression.

You stayed quiet, your mind racing, pulse skittering wildly beneath your skin, but your face remained soft, composed—the same mask you wore around Bruce every day.

For now, your secret stayed safe between the two of you.

And his?

You’d carry that, too.

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