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aianddata · 20 days ago

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10 Smart R Programming Tips to become Better R Programmer

Coding is the process by which a programmer converts tasks from human-readable logic to machine-readable language. The reason behind coding being so popular is that there are so many ways to do the same thing that programmers don’t know the right choice anymore.

As a result, each programmer has his/her own style in writing implementations to the same part of an algorithm.

Writing code can sometimes be the most difficult and time-consuming part of any project. If the code is written in such a way that it is hard to change or requires a lot of work for every small update, then the investments will keep on piling up and more and more issues will crop up as the project progresses.

A good and well-written code is reusable, efficient and written cleverly by a smart programmer. This is what differentiates programmers from each other.

So, here are some tips to becoming a SMART coder:

Table of contents:

Writing codes for Programmer, Developer, and Even for A Layman

Knowing how to improve the code

Writing robust code

When to use shortcuts and when not to use

Reduce effort through code reuse

Write planned out code

Active memory management

Remove redundant tasks

Learn to adapt

Peer review

1. Writing Codes for Programmer, Developer, and Even for A Layman

Though codes are primarily written for the machine to understand. They should be structured and well organized for other developers or for any layman to understand. In reality, codes should be written for all the three.

Those who keep this fact in mind are one step ahead of other coders while those who are able to make sure everyone can understand their code are miles ahead than their struggling friends.

Good programmers always document their codes and make use of IDE. I will use R language to explain the concept. Using IDE such as Rstudio makes it easier to write code quickly.

The main advantage available in almost all IDE is the auto-completion feature which suggests the function or command when part of it is written.

IDE is also known to suggest the syntax of the selected functions which saves time. Rstudio IDE environment also displays environment variables alongside with some basic details of each variable.

Documentation is another ability which differentiates good programmers from the rest.

Let’s look at this viewpoint using an example. Say you read the following code:

Code snippet 1

# Code snippet 1

a=16

b=a/2

c=(a+b)/2

Code snippet 2

# Code snippet 2

# store the max memory size

a=16

# taking half of the maximum memory as the minimum memory

b=a/2

# taking mean of maximum and minimum memory as the recommended memory

c=(a+b)/2

Code snippet 3

# Code snippet 3

# store the max memory size

max_mem=16

# taking half of the maximum memory as the minimum memory

min_mem=max_mem/2

# taking mean of maximum and minimum memory as the recommended memory

mean_mem=(max_mem+min_mem)/2

The difference in documentation is highlighted in these three code snippets and this is just a simple demonstration of code understandability.

The first code is difficult to understand. It just sets the values of three variables. There are no comments and the variable names do not explain anything.

The second code snippet explains that ‘a’ is the maximum memory, ‘b’ is the minimum memory and ‘c’ is the mean of the two.

Without the comments in code snippet 2, no one can understand whether the calculation for ‘c’ is correct or not.

The third code is a step further with the variables representing what is stored in them.

The third code is the easiest to understand even though all the three codes perform similar tasks. Moreover, when the variables are used elsewhere, the variables used in the third snippet are self-explanatory and will not require a programmer to search in the code for what they store until an error occurs in the code.

2. Knowing how to Improve

R has multiple ways to achieve a task. Each of the possibilities comes from using more memory, faster execution or different algorithm/logic.

Whenever possible, good programmers make this choice wisely.

R has the feature to execute code in parallel. Lengthy tasks such as fitting models can be executed in parallel, resulting in time-saving. Other tasks can also be executed faster based on the logic and packages used.

As an illustration, the following code snippets reflects the same task, one with sqldf package and another with dplyr package.

These practices are foundational not only for efficient programming, but also for building scalable AI and machine learning solutions.

Using sqldf version

# Using sqldf version

install.packages(“sqldf”)

library(sqldf)

Out_df=sqldf(“select * from table_a left outer join table_b on table_a.var_x=table_b.var_x”)

Using dplyr version

# Using dplyr version

install.packages(“dplyr”)

library(dplyr)

Out_df=left_join(table_a,table_b)

I personally prefer the dplyr version whenever possible. However, there are some differences between the outputs.

The dplyr version will look at all variables with the same name and join using them. If there is more than one such variable, I need to use them by field. Moreover, left join using dplyr will not keep both copies of the variable used to join tables whereas sqldf does.

One advantage of sqldf is that sqldf is not case sensitive and can easily join tables even if the variable names in the two tables are completely different. However, it is slower than dplyr.

3. Writing Robust Code

While writing code, you can make the code simple but situation specific or write a generic code. One such way in which programmers write simple but situation-specific code is by ‘Hard Coding’.

It is the term given to fixing values of variables and is never recommended.

For example, dividing the sum of all salaries in a 50,000-row salary data by 50,000 rather than dividing the sum of that sum with the number of rows may seem to make the same sense but have a different meaning in programming.

If the data changes with the change in the number of rows, the number 50,000 needs to be searched and updated. If the programmer misses making the small change, all the work goes down the drain. On the other hand, the latter approach automatically does the task and is a robust method.

Another popular programming issue quite specific to languages such as R is Code Portability. Codes running on one computer may not work on another because the other computer does not have some packages installed or has outdated packages.

Such cases can be handled by checking for installed packages first and then installing them. These tasks can be collectively called as robust programming and make the code error free.

Using an illustration for checking and installing/updating h2o package.

# If h2o package is already loaded, unload it and uninstall

if (“package:h2o” %in% search()) { detach(“package:h2o”, unload=TRUE) }

# Checking

if (“h2o” %in% rownames(installed.packages())) { remove.packages(“h2o”) }

# Next, we download packages that H2O depends on.

# methods

if (! (“methods” %in% rownames(installed.packages()))) { install.packages(“methods”) }

# statmod

if (! (“statmod” %in% rownames(installed.packages()))) { install.packages(“statmod”) }

# stats

if (! (“stats” %in% rownames(installed.packages()))) { install.packages(“stats”) }

# graphics

if (! (“graphics” %in% rownames(installed.packages()))) { install.packages(“graphics”) }

# Rcurl

if (! (“RCurl” %in% rownames(installed.packages()))) { install.packages(“RCurl”) }

# jsonlite

if (! (“jsonlite” %in% rownames(installed.packages()))) { install.packages(“jsonlite”) }

# tools

if (! (“tools” %in% rownames(installed.packages()))) { install.packages(“tools”) }

# utils

if (! (“utils” %in% rownames(installed.packages()))) { install.packages(“utils”) }

# Finally install and load h2o package

install.packages(“h20”)

library(h2o)

4. When to Use Shortcuts and When Not to

Using shortcuts may be tempting in the pursuit of writing code swiftly but the right practice is to know when to use them.

For instance, shortcut keys are something which is really helpful and can always be used. Using Ctrl+L in windows clears the console output screen, Using Ctrl+Shift+C in windows comments and un-comments all selected lines of code in one go are my favorite shortcuts in Rstudio.

Another shortcut is writing code for fixing code temporarily or writing faulty fixes which are not desired.

Here are some of the examples of faulty fixes.

This code changes a particular column name without checking its existing name

# This code changes a particular column name without checking its existing name

colnames(data_f)[5]=”new_name”

This removes certain columns using a number. This may remove important ones and code may give the error if the number of columns less than 10 in this case.

# This removes certain columns using a number. This may remove important ones and code may give error if the number of columns are less than 10 in this case

data_f=data_f[,1:4,6:10]

This converts a value to numeric without checking if it actually has all numbers. If the value does not contain numbers, it may produce NAs by coercion

# This converts a value to numeric without checking if it actually has all numbers. If the value does not contain numbers, it may produce NAs by coercion

Num_val=”123″

The following converts Num_val to 123 correctly

# The following converts Num_val to 123 correctly

Num_val=as.numeric(Num_val)

char_val=”A_Name”

The following issues a warning and converts Num_val to NA as it is not a number

# The following issues a warning and converts Num_val to NA as it is not a number

char_val=as.numeric(char_val)

5. Reduce Effort Through Code Reuse

When you start writing a code, you don’t need to waste time if a particular piece of logic has already been written for you. Better known as “Code Re-use”, you can always use your own code you previously wrote or even google to reach out the large R community.

Don’t be afraid to search. Looking up for already implemented solutions online is very helpful in learning the methods prevalent for similar situations and the pros and cons associated with them.

Even when it becomes necessary to reinvent the wheel, the existing solutions can serve as a benchmark to test your new solution. An equally important part of writing code is to make your own code reusable.

Here are two snippets which highlight reusability.

Code which needs to be edited before resuing it

# Code which needs to be edited before reusing it

for(i in 1:501) {

df[,i]=as.numeric(df[,i])

}

Code which can be reused with lesser editing

# Code which can be reused with lesser editing

for(i in 1:ncol(df)) {

df[,i]=as.numeric(df[,i])

}

6. Write Planned Out Code

Writing code on the fly may be a cool-to-have skill but not helpful for writing efficient codes. Coding is most efficient when you know what you are writing.

Always plan and write your logic on a piece of paper before implementing it. Inculcating the habit of adding tabs and spaces and basic formatting as you code is another time-saving skill for a good programmer.

For instance, every new ‘if’, ‘for’ or ‘while’ statement can be followed by tabs so that indentation is clearly visible. Although optional, such actions separate out blocks of code and helpful in identifying breakpoints as well as debugging.

A more rigorous but helpful approach is to write code using functions and modules and explaining every section with examples in comments or printing progress inside loops and conditions. Ultimately it all depends on the programmer how he/she chooses to document and log in the code.

7. Active Memory Management

Adding memory handling code is like handling a double-edged sword. It may not be useful for small-scale programs due to a slowdown in execution speed but nevertheless a great skill to have for writing scalable code.

In Rstudio, removing variables and frames when they are no longer required with the rm() function, garbage collection using gc() command and selecting the relevant features and data for proceeding are ways to manage memory.

Adjusting RAM usage with memory.limit() and setting parallel processing are also tasks for managing your memory usage. Remember! Memory management goes hand in hand with data backup.

It only takes a few seconds create and store copies of data. It should be done to ensure that data loss does not occur if backtracking is required.

Have a look at this example snippet which stores the master data and then frees up memory.

# dividing master dataset into train and test with ratio 7:3

library(dplyr)

train<-sample_frac(master_data, 0.7

train_ind<-as.numeric(rownames(train))

test<-master_data[-train_ind,]

# saving backup of master_data and removing unneeded data

write.csv(master_data,”master_data.csv”)

rm(master_data)

rm(train_ind)

gc()<span style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, Oxygen-Sans, Ubuntu, Cantarell, 'Helvetica Neue', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; background-color: #ffffff;"> </span>

8. Remove Redundant Tasks

Sometimes programmers do some tasks repeatedly or forget to remove program code without knowing it.

Writing separate iterations for each data manipulation step, leaving libraries loaded even after they are no longer required, not removing features until the last moment, multiple joins and queries,etc. are some examples of redundancy lurking in your code.

While these happen somewhat naturally as more and more changes are made and new logic is added. It is a good practice to look at existing code and adjust your new lines to save runtime.

Redundancy can slow your code so much that removing it can do wonders in execution speed.

# Redundant code

# Takes about 0.5 seconds for iris data

for(i in 1:ncol(df)) {

df[,i]=as.numeric(df[,i])

}

for(i in 1:ncol(df)) {

#storing missing values per column in mis vector

mis[i]=length(which(is.na(df[,i])))

}

#Better implementation (implementations faster than the one below also exist)

#Gives a similar output but takes about 0.3 seconds for iris data - 35% improvement

for(i in 1:ncol(df)) {

df[,i]=as.numeric(df[,i])

#storing missing values per column in mis vector

mis[i]=length(which(is.na(df[,i])))

}

9. Learn to Adapt

No matter how good a programmer you are, you can always be better! This tip is not related to typical coding practices but teamwork. Sharing and understanding codes from peers, Reading codes online (such as from repositories).

setting yourself up to date with books and blogs and learning about new technologies and packages which are released for R are some ways to learn.

Being flexible and adaptive to new methods and keeping yourself up to date with what’s happening in the analytics industry today can help you in avoiding becoming obsolete with old practices.

10. Peer Review

The code you write may be straightforward for you but very complex for everyone else. How will you know that? The only way is to know what others think about it.

Code review is thus the last but not the least in terms of importance for better coding. Ask people to go through your code and be open to suggested edits. You may come across situations when some code you thought is written beautifully can be replaced with more efficient code.

Code review is a process which helps both the coder and reviewer as it is a way of helping each other to improve and move forward.

The Path is Not So Difficult: Conclusion

Becoming a good programmer is no easy feat but becoming better at programming as you progress is possible. Though it will take time, persevering to add strong programming habits will make you a strong member in every team’s arsenal.

These tips are just the beginning and there may be more ways to improve. The knowledge to always keep improving will take you forward and let you taste the sweet results of being a hi-tech programmer.

In the rapidly changing analytics world, staying with the latest tools and techniques is a priority and being good at R programming can be a prime factor towards your progress in your analytics career.

So go out there and make yourself acquainted with the techniques of becoming better at R programming.

This article was originally published at Perceptive Analytics.

Perceptive Analytics partners with businesses to unlock value in data and drive innovation. With two decades of experience, we’ve delivered results for 100+ clients worldwide. Our expertise includes Tableau development services, Chatbot Consulting, and Power BI development services.

#data science #data analytics #r programming #r language

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underthehedge · 1 year ago

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Going through the notes seems insane to me because like...in my experience the average ecologist nowadays is at least a mid-range coder. Geneticists as well, you can't do bioinformatics/genomics without coding.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE DOING IT ALL BY HAND??? LIKE BACKSPACING OUT EVERY LETTER BEFORE YOU SEARCH THE STRING???

String identified: AT A ' G T A A??? ACACG T TT AC T TG???

Closest match: Crassostrea gigas strain QD chromosome 2 Common name: Pacific oyster

#I'm a field ecologist and geneticist by training now #and that means I'm capable of using several programming languages and would rather die than manually do something if I can script it #I could literally write a R script to convert the text there in about two minutes I think?#hell give me a little longer and I could probably integrate the nucleotide blast into the whole thing #you just identify all symbols you want to keep #ask for their positions and then subset the string at those positions #now to be fair I'd have to do a couple things to the initial string I think #or just write a horrible loop because I'm a monster

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judecsi · 4 months ago

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ok I am locking in on my Spanish learning today👆👆👆

#have been needing too for a while #but I have an interview today and I bet they r gonna expect me to know Spanish #bc I have a minor in it #but in reality my university’s foreign language program was terrible #hopefully they r okay w me having a passable reading and writing comprehension #idk we will see #but this is motivation for me to finally lock in #I have been wanting to actually learn it forever #M speaks‼️#language posting #we will start a tag for future reference

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jhkinfotech · 7 months ago

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R, a programming language developed in the early 1990s by Ross Ihaka and Robert Gentleman, was specifically designed for statistical analysis and data visualization. It quickly gained traction within the academic and research communities due to its powerful capabilities in statistical modeling and its open-source nature. R has become synonymous with statistical computing, providing an extensive set of tools and packages to perform complex data analysis.

Python, on the other hand, was created in the late 1980s by Guido van Rossum and released in 1991. Its design philosophy emphasizes simplicity and readability, making it an accessible language for programmers of all skill levels. Python has evolved into one of the most versatile programming languages, widely used in various domains, including web development, machine learning, data science, and automation. Its ease of use and broad applicability make it a favorite among both novice and professional developers.

#python #r programming #begginners #programming language #data analysis

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digitalmarketingcoursechandigarh · 10 months ago

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#Embark on a transformative journey with a Data Science course in Chandigarh #designed for aspiring professionals from Punjab and Haryana. This program offers in-depth knowledge of essential topics #including statistics #machine learning #data visualization #and big data analytics. Participants will engage in hands-on projects and real-world case studies #ensuring practical experience and skill development. Learn to use industry-standard tools and programming languages like Python and R #equipping yourself for a successful career in the rapidly growing field of data science.#SoundCloud

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futuretechwords · 1 year ago

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The Rise Of R Programming Language: Where And Why To Use?

The Rise of R Programming Language: Top 6 uses

In the ever-expanding landscape of programming languages, R has emerged as a powerhouse for data analysis, statistical computing, and machine learning. Its versatility and robust capabilities have propelled its rise to prominence across various industries and domains.

Unleashing the Potential of R:

1. Data Analysis and Visualization: R's extensive library of packages, including ggplot2 and dplyr, empowers analysts to manipulate data and create stunning visualizations with ease.

2. Statistical Computing: With built-in functions for statistical modeling and hypothesis testing, R is the preferred choice for statisticians and researchers worldwide.

3. Machine Learning: R's machine learning packages, such as caret and randomForest, enable developers to build predictive models and uncover patterns in data.

4. Bioinformatics: R is widely used in bioinformatics for analyzing genomic data, DNA sequencing, and protein structure prediction.

5. Finance: In finance, R is employed for risk modeling, portfolio optimization, and algorithmic trading strategies.

6. Social Sciences: Researchers leverage R for survey analysis, experimental design, and sentiment analysis in social sciences.

7. Healthcare: From clinical trials to epidemiological studies, R plays a pivotal role in analyzing healthcare data and improving patient outcomes.

8. Marketing and Advertising: Marketers utilize R for customer segmentation, campaign optimization, and sentiment analysis on social media data.

Why Choose R?

1. Open Source: R is open-source and free to use, making it accessible to a wide range of users, from students to seasoned professionals.

2. Rich Ecosystem: R boasts a vibrant community and extensive package ecosystem, providing users with a wealth of resources and tools for their projects.

3. Interactivity and Reproducibility: R's interactive environment allows for iterative exploration and analysis, while its scripting capabilities facilitate reproducible research and collaboration.

4. Integration with Other Languages: R seamlessly integrates with other programming languages like Python and SQL, enabling users to leverage the strengths of different tools within their workflows.

As industries increasingly rely on data-driven insights to make informed decisions, the demand for skilled R programmers continues to soar. Whether you're a data scientist, researcher, or industry professional, mastering R opens doors to a world of opportunities in data analytics and beyond.

For an in-depth exploration of the rise of R programming language, visit FutureTech Words. Unlock the potential of R today!

#R Programming Language

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xi-off · 1 year ago

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did i ttell yyall bout that time i accidentally took a quantum physics class . u should hear it. it says more abt me than my mbti ever will

my first deadly yet obvious mistake was letting my cousin* help me put my schedule together. in my defense it was my first semester ever at uni and i was taking any and all help i could get. "ur doin premed u might as well take this chem class in case u need it for ur major later" he says. "ok" i say.

*this is the one notorious for building bombs in his kitchen sink. yes he was 2 semesters from getting his bachelors in chemical engineering b4 deciding it was boring and then swapping to computer science for funsies. why do you ask

so yeah the class is named some benign thing like "intro to chemistry principles" with a large footnote that its only required for a handful of STEM degrees, but it therefore covers any and every intro chem credit u will ever need. so im like awesomesauce. might as well since this uni is notorious for idiot credit transfer policies 👍

first week or two is also fairly benign. prof mentions the class is gonna b pretty intense due to the material itself being pretty intense, this isnt really an intro course so hopefully u took ap chem, and im like sure its a 4 credit class. i didnt take ap chem in high school bc our chem teacher Sucked (2/15 ap chem kids my year got a 3 and everyone else failed) so im a little nervous but prepared to hate myself the rest of the semester. pretty cool. chugging along. i dont actually have to teach myself as much basic chem as i thought bc most of its pretty intuitive but im waiting for the other shoe to drop

add/drop deadline passes. my schedule is now set in stone

everything was still fine for a bit. but as per The Rules, somewhere around the 2nd of 4 midterms stuff starts going off the rails and im like. bestie WHAT is happening.u want me modeling WHAT in this janky software from the 90s that responds if and only if it feels like it? wtf is a pi orbital? wtf is hilbert space??? (pause) ARE WE DOING QUANTUM MECHANICS in my INTRO TO CHEM CLASS

(also side note im taking 17 credit hours this semester. the other classes included calc 2 which sucks fat nuts despite the fact im taking it for the second time…its been like 2 years bc i took it in high school… and japanese 101 which ended up being worse than the ACCIDENTAL QUANTUM PHYSICS class in many ways)

so yeah i cried a lot. i got like a 60 on my final and scraped out with a B-. somehow even with Also A B- in my calc class my gpa didnt drop below my scholarship minimum of 3.5 until i failed illustration 101 later. and then i got really disabled. and then covid happened. and now ive been on academic probation for like . hang on doing math. 3 years. and also havent been able to get that resolved to take classes that entire time. and i need to go get that figured out so i can apply to another school UUUUUUGGGHHHHHHH f my gay baka life

tldr: stay in school to draw yuri on ur notes or jesus from bible will put u on academic probation for 3 years

#if ur curious abt jp101 the east asian language programs SUCK bc all the business majors keep overcrowding #so the depts make them stupid hard to keep casuals from minoring or whatever. its annoying af and class sizes are TINY #meaning i tried to get into mandarin 101 every semester and got denied. so jp101 instead cuz my grandparents r old n speak jp #if ur curious about illustration 101 . well friend . me too.#storytime with agong #im sick thats why im chatty😏back to queenie bday art whic h is like 2+ weeks late now

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besttraininginstitute · 2 years ago

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Understanding The Advantages And Disadvantages of R Programming

R programming, renowned for statistical computing, offers a rich ecosystem of packages for data analysis. Its open-source nature facilitates collaborative development and extensive community support. With versatile visualization tools, R is ideal for exploring and presenting data insights. However, its steeper learning curve may pose a challenge for beginners compared to more user-friendly languages. Despite this, R remains a preferred choice for statisticians, data scientists, and researchers due to its robust statistical capabilities.

#Advantages of R Programming #Advantages of R Language

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stackslip · 1 month ago

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most of all i'm tired to see a group of people who talk big game about ableism and how much it affects them then immediately turn around and base a solid 75 to 80% of their arguments against a new technology (that to some is genuinely an assistive technology! like it or not!) on the idea of the Natural Brain And Natural Body that is Pure and Good, and how their brains and souls are perfect and unrotten bc they're not idiot stupid r*tard brain-damaged baby losers who need help for BASIC tasks such as

applying for a job

communicating in a more efficient/socially acceptable/gramatically correct manner

summarizing texts or ideas in easy and simple to understand language

breaking down basic tasks to easier and more manageable ones

tasks that are soooo easy any baby could do it, and anyone who can't on their own is just a stupid stupid brain-rotten baby /s

idk maybe it's because i actually spend time with people with cognitive/intellectual disabilities or learning disabilities, as well as refugees and second language speakers who are incredibly disadvantaged in their interactions in the west, that i can't take this rhetoric anymore; especially from people who talk a big game about how the barriers they face because of their autism/adhd/anxiety and chronic illness, but then turn around and point and laugh and talk nastily about folks who for some reason or another struggle with communication, executive function, understanding/comprehension (whether in reading or writing or simple cognition of the thing at hand) and more.

you don't have to use genAI, sure. genAI like all current technologies can also be incredibly harmful to disabled people and mirrors the same systemic ableism and racism that exist. that's without going into data/privacy and how chatgpt and LLMs use them! but that's not the conversation from Principled Anti AI Posters. no, the conversation is that a disabled person who used midjourney or even a self-written genAI art program is a lazy bastard who's probably fat and languishing in a basement somewhere, and anyone who's used it to write an email or translate something is some disgusting baby loser with a rotten brain. and shockingly none of this rhetoric has translated into actionable actions against the tech industry or a better understanding of capitalism, nvm compassion for disabled people who aren't aspie supremacist adjacent losers--instead it's just resulted in harassment campaigns and 20 something year olds sobbing because they believe their future and art as a whole is destroyed forever and doomed. so really, how effective is your anti "brain rotting" genAI posting, or is it just cope because you refuse to acknowledge the grim reality and what could--should be done?

#eli talks

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novy2sirius · 2 months ago

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hobbies that you should try

the 5th house in astrology represents hobbies so your 5h ruler can tell about the types of hobbies that would be best for u. there can be more interpretations, but these r just some examples 🩷🎀🧸 ©novy2sirius

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 1h: running, hiking, biking, table tennis, cooking, air hockey, camping, archery, boxing, bodybuilding

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 2h: singing, gardening, clothing making, cooking/baking, karaoke

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 3h: journaling/scrapbooking, writing in a diary, computer programming/coding, web designing, digital art, 3D printing, photography, juggling

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 4h: theatre/acting, baking, interior designing, knitting, crocheting

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 5h: chess, video games, theatre/acting, hula hooping, babysitting

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 6h: fishing, gardening, hunting, camping, horseback riding

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 7h: dancing, playing instruments, acting, clothing making, painting

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 8h: puzzles, sudoku, word searches, magic tricks, card games, playing men for their money

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 9h: photography, learning languages, astrology, filmmaking, meditation

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 10h: ur main hobby could be ur career, running a fanpage, reading abt history

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 11h: computer programming/coding, web designing, digital art, filmmaking, 3D printing

ꨄ︎ 5h ruler in the 12h: playing instruments, writing/producing music, painting, astrology, filmmaking, meditation, magic tricks

#hobbies #astrology #astrology blog #astrology chart #birth chart #astrology community #astro community

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ittybittyfanblog · 8 months ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 4

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (vindicated!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, player wants to sock a certain 3D character in the face A/N: Here’s part 4! Also, a taglist at the end of this post! Just lmk whether you'd like to be added/removed, no sweat ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ Happy reading!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

You swiftly pull up Reddit. And then Twitter (X) on another window. You’ve got to find answers.

Typing in “sENTIENT SENTINCE SENTIENCE LADS ML HELP” in the r/LoveAndDeepspace subreddit search bar, along with keywords that have anything to do with “breaking the fourth wall” and “recent major updates” on X, you quickly scour for anything that comes even close to your current situation.

Immediately, you see a bunch of mix-match results, some even dating as far as the first month of the game’s release. Your eyes skim through blocks of texts, hoping there’s a comment – or a tweet – somewhere that could shed some light to this conundrum.

Already, you see some discussion on sudden fourth wall breaks. But you’ve seen posts like this before, and they’re most likely pertaining to the way their LI’s gaze falls directly on the player’s line of sight when they’re in Dynamic Pose mode in Glint Photobooth.

The common suspects for this are usually Xavier and your resident headache (Sylus). It's one of the “known” bugs of the game, even so far as being choreographed, almost, from the way players intentionally pose the MLs at certain angles to attain the likeness of sentience.

You remember the first time it happened to you, way back when the Photobooth feature was just recently introduced. You were taking photos of Xavier—letting him pose freely in dynamic mode so that you could capture a more organic look, when his eyes “met” yours directly.

Of course like any other (delusional) player, you entertained the novel idea of actually being noticed by the videogame character you’ve formed an unhealthy attachment to. Got excited, squealed over it, felt an instant doki-doki on your kokoro—the whole shebang.

… Along with probably hundreds of other players who’ve experienced the same thing.

So, yes, these instances occur more frequently than one would think. Not really what you’d call particularly noteworthy.

Then you see the threads from players who swear that their LIs really understand how they feel during their tête-à-tête sessions. It sounds promising, and you spend a few minutes reading through their "testimonies."

—Until you surmise from what you’ve gathered that all of them only appear like they do. How Rafayel, Zayne (and yes, even Sylus) seem to know what they need to hear, from how accurate their generated responses are.

Keyword: generated. So, no. They still aren’t anything more than glorified soundboards with really good timing, however attractive it may be to think otherwise.

Ooh, that one sounds a little too bitchy, even for you.

It’s got nothing to do with the players, nor has it anything to do with how the game works, really— bugs and all. Fuck, you were one of those people who milked the fantasy over the same coincidences once upon a time. You were. Before the coincidences started to be anything but.

Before you had to worry whether you still have your mental faculties in order.

With every—misleading—post you stumble upon, you feel yourself becoming more restless. There’s a fervent glaze in your eyes and your typing’s getting diabolically worse. (you could barely read that last search input–bitch, how are you fit to work?) You’re sure that if you looked in a mirror right now, you’d look as deranged as you feel.

Xavier “bug” that looks so real omg?? Skip.

Sylus – New Voiceline? You check it out. Yeah, It’s just one of his newer—programmed—voicelines.

Conversations with Rafayel got ~too real~ all of a sudden. You wish that yours had stayed the way they’ve always been, but alas.

Stop feeding into my delusions [Zayne] challenge: Failed. Oh? You’re almost done reading the first paragraph of the Redditor’s post, when you catch sight of the latest update below:

Resolved. Uninstalled the game. Multi-banners are getting too expensive (See my other post). Okay, you respect that. Hear that, Infold—

You’re slowly losing hope. Clearly, your case is kind of… mayhaps a tiny bit… different. From the rest. Dare say, exceptionally so.

To what end, you don’t know. You’re left with more questions than answers, and the primary enigma isn’t giving you much to work with.

Without anything else left to do, you resort to mindless scrolling. You’re swiping up, scrolling endlessly through the Top Posts of All Time, and it feels like you’re about to reach the end of this damn subreddit… When an unassuming post from a deleted user catches your attention.

It only got a few upvotes, and barely enough comments to gain traction. Unless one’s desperate enough to have been looking as hard as you are, it just looks like one of the many random dead posts from months ago. Nothing special.

Even the title is unassuming: I think the game’s broken??

You start to read.

Hi, so uhhh I’m 2 months in the game and everything’s been going well and all… Until a few days ago. IDK if this is a bug ?? but my Rafayel’s been acting so weird lately….. Ik I’m gonna sound delusional, but it’s like he’s actually aware of me ME. Not my MC.

He’s got a bunch of new dialogues, and they’re all so accurately specific it’s creeping me tf out LMAO. IDK how the devs got THIS much info on me (like is this even legal) but they do. Or at least, Rafayel does? That sounds rly stupid out loud but yeah lol. Oh and he doesn’t even let me switch between MLs anymore. The game just… crashes? whenever I try to.

Always been a Rafayel main (he’s the reason why I installed the game in the first place) so I was REALLY ecstatic over what I thought were new updates from the game… buuut when I tried looking it up, I can’t find any related news from the official LADS channel(s) about recent patches or updates with this feature, and no one seems to know what I’m talking about???

I feel like I’m going crazy… Literally as I’m typing this, Rafayel’s spamming me with notifications. He’s so fucking clingy… I love it??

Plsplspls if anyone’s experiencing the same thing, comment or DM meee. I need someone to talk to, aside from the fishie lmao no matter how much he insists that he’s enough omg (?!?!!)

Holy shit— you can’t believe it. This… this is exactly what you’re looking for.

The six comments under the post ranged from calling it complete bull to outright mocking the OP, and you understand why the post didn’t get any more popular.

For a brief moment, you feel a certain kinship with the original poster. A tinge of… shame (?) washes over you as you scan through all the negative reception; it’s as if the harsh insults were hurled directly at you instead.

How fun. There goes your fleeting idea to post the same question on the forum, if all else fails.

Speaking of. Your eyes quickly dart to the small text just above the title to check their username—but to your utter dismay, you see (and remember) that it’s from a deleted account.

The user no longer exists.

God, that can’t be it.

You spend a solid twenty minutes trying to look up ways to retrieve information—contacts, socials, anything—from deleted accounts. No dice.

Deep in your gut, you know that whatever else you could possibly find on both apps wouldn’t compare to what you’ve already come across.

You’ve officially hit a dead end.

With heavy limbs and a downtrodden spirit, you haul yourself up from the floor—just to turn around and collapse face first on the sofa. A deep, drawn-out groan escapes you as you shut your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from all the stuff that’s been boggling your brain.

It doesn’t seem like you’ll be finding a solid answer to your question (questions, in plural) any time soon. So what else can you do?

Well, aside from putting away your groceries; the currently-thawing fish and the condensing bags of pre-cut veggies aren’t going to store themselves inside a freezer anytime soon. A loudly meowing ball of fur has also been relentlessly clawing at your leg at the foot of the sofa for the past five minutes, demanding to be fed and petted.

Whoops. You hastily push yourself back on your feet to address these pressing tasks pronto.

…

…..

(Now that’s out of the way—)

You swipe your phone open—yet again—as you flop back onto the couch. And, maybe, you’re a glutton for punishment. Maybe you’re just a little too over the excitement of the unknown factors in play. Or maybe, you just want another shot– to try one last time—

What you know, though, is that whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed about stuff at work, or you need something to distract yourself with, you open the silly otome game on your phone to make yourself feel better.

So. That’s exactly what you do. Even if that silly otome game’s now the reason why you’re feeling so goddamned stressed at the moment.

Go figure.

The game boots up. You sullenly glare at the loading bar as it progresses from 35%....

68%....

95%.........

Once again, Sylus_v1.0 (!) greets you from the center of the home screen, looking exactly the same as he did last when you opened the app, which was— damn, has it really been over three hours already?

“At this hour, the day is just getting started,” he remarks nonchalantly, folding his arms across his chest as his eyes drift to whatever’s on his left.

You give him a dead-eyed stare; slightly wary, but overall unimpressed by the act. “God, I hope the fuck not.”

There’s no new content since your last proper login, as far as you can tell. At first glance, you see some of the regular, daily badge notifications, but nothing really stands out to you. There’s no unexpected red dot on the mail icon this time, nor is there any on the Hunter Info tab.

So far, so good.

With slight hesitation, you begin to speak, even if you aren’t sure whether your intended recipient can actually hear you or not.

“Um, so. I’m really kinda freaking out right now and–” You cut yourself off, swallowing down the frustration building in your throat. There’s an edge to your voice as you speak your next words, “it’s because you’re– you’ve been giving me mixed signals. I–I don’t know what to think anymore–!”

He remains unmoving, showing no signs of having registered what you just said. You sigh.

“Ugh, it sounds like I’m talking to an actual boyfriend or something. This is driving me nuts.”

Still no response.

“Can’t you give me a sign?” You whine defeatedly, trying to catch the eye of the pixelated man on your phone who’s resolutely looking at the right side of the screen. Is he purposely avoiding eye contact or what? “Like… I don’t know—blink twice if you understand what I’m saying right now.”

He blinks. Once. Fucking—

Does he think this is some kind of joke?

“I’m gonna poke your dick off,” You threaten him menacingly, your pointer finger at the ready to commit assault. “I swear, I’m gonna do it—”

Wait. Was that a twitch on his lips?

Pausing, you narrow your eyes at him, critical in your scrutiny for any sign that might reveal the truth to this stupid charade he’s putting on. Because it’s a charade. It has to be.

All of a sudden, embarrassment colors your cheeks as it dawns on you what you just said to him. What you’re poised to do. Fuck, you just wanted to get a rise out of him. Test the waters or some shit. Then again, if he’s actually aware– if he CAN actually hear you—

Quickly, you retract your finger away from where it hovers precariously centimeters above his crotch area. “Right. Sorry.”

Scrunching your nose, you press the Agenda icon on the corner, resignation sitting heavy in your chest. Since it doesn’t look like you’re getting any answers tonight, you might as well just do your daily tasks while you’re in-game, right?

So you go through the motions of ticking off each task on the list half-heartedly, collecting the subsequent rewards one by one; just enough to reach the hundred star mark.

It’s petty, no doubt irrational, but you steer clear from anything that would require you to interact with him. You start off with what’s easiest to complete: gifting Stamina, spending Stamina, spending more Stamina, and buying items from the Shop.

Speaking of items… You try your best to act indifferent as you catch sight of the staggering number of red dias that has recently come to your possession, there on the upper right corner of the screen. Before you could even recall the other materials so kindly gifted to you the other night, you immediately exit the Store window to go about your business after you’ve finished collecting today’s free loot.

You breeze through the Bounty Hunts and Core Hunt stages with excessive use of the Auto Pursuit option, rinsing and repeating until you’re almost out of energy. You don’t want to risk playing an actual battle, since your strongest Memory Cards are from the man you’re currently giving the cold shoulder to.

Also, you have no idea what to expect once you enter combat mode—and right now, you can’t be damned to know.

Before you know it, you’re done with the daily Agenda. Close enough, at least. You didn’t even have to interact with the white-haired male LYLA wannabe to get the hundred golden stars. Go, you.

Without anything left to do, you’re back to staring at the—now-seated—man on the home screen who’s still intent on avoiding you. There’s Mephisto perched on his finger, appearing in a plume of black feathers, projecting a holographic screen for the Onychinus leader to scroll through whatever evil juju he’s been up to lately—the very picture of calm detachment.

Almost a minute passes by.

You can’t help it. Poke. Pokepokepokepoke—

“Once you’re trapped in life’s banality, the only thing left is “staying alive.”"

“Oh, for the love of— is that a hint or not?!”

You really wish you could’ve talked to the person on Reddit about this. Ask them whether their version of Rafayel had also been this difficult, this uncooperative. It can’t be that different from what you’re dealing with, could it?

Just a chance to talk… You brood wistfully. To know what’s happening to them right now. Ask them for advice on how to provoke some type of reactio–

Suddenly, something clicks in your brain, and you almost bite your tongue to prevent the spark of anticipation from showing on your face.

"Alright, you win," you concede with an exaggerated sigh, raising your arms over your head to appear as if you’re simply stretching away the stiffness in your muscles. You try to inject as much reluctance in your tone. “You’re really not going to budge, huh?”

Again, you’re met with radio silence—not that you’re expecting a response at this point.

(Well, not yet.)

“That’s fine…” You trail off deliberately, drawing lazy lines across the screen with your pointer finger, until it stops right before the small message icon on the left.

With feigned innocence, you muse, “Hey, I wonder how Xavier's been doing lately.”

…

A beat. You almost believe nothing would come out of your last, and obvious, attempt at goading him but then—

Sylus throws his head back with a sigh, casting an almost exasperated glance at the ceiling. He flicks his wrist dismissively, and Mephisto vanishes in a puff of dark smoke. There’s an unsettling fluidity in the way his gaze shifts toward you; disconcertingly lifelike, when his eyes finally—finally—lock onto yours. An intensity behind those red eyes that makes the look feel unnervingly deliberate.

Your breath catches in your throat. There it is. The reaction you’re looking for.

A weary amusement frames the way he tilts his head sideways—with the way the corners of his mouth curve into a mocking smile, eyes never leaving yours.

He raises an eyebrow up as if to say, now what?

“I knew it,” you whisper shakily, eyes widening into saucers. “I fucking knew it.”

“Mm, took you long enough.”

Before you could even react to that, Sylus flashes you a two-finger salute and winks.

The game crashes.

“Oh, no, you don’t–" you growl, not wasting any second tapping the game icon again. It doesn’t even give you a chance to reach the main menu before it glitches, and you’re back staring at the widgets on your phone’s home screen. “Motherfucker.”

You keep trying.

And with every attempt, Sylus, freak of nature that he is, responds with another system crash. On the eight try, you succeed on entering the game and you feel a sense of relief seeing the loading bar—before, lo and behold, it crashes once more.

Your left eye twitches. Inhaling deeply, you hold your breath for a solid fifteen seconds before sharply exhaling through your nose.

You jab a finger on the icon of his dumb face again. You ought to change that shit as soon as this game of chicken lets up.

“You’re gonna let me open this app, Sy-Sy,” You sang with faux cheer. “Or, swear to god, I’m uninstalling this thing before you could even—”

… It loads successfully before you could even finish your sentence.

“Alright, alright.”

There he is; closer to the screen now, wearing a faint smile, as though trying to stifle a full-on grin from breaking across his face. He looks thoroughly entertained by the entire situation, like it’s the most fun he’s had in ages. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“You–you—” Sputtering, you glare at him, betrayal in your eyes. “You’re a fucking ass!”

“And you’re an absolute delight to play with, kitten,” Sylus coos at you, his smirk widening.

But when he catches the trembling jut on your bottom lip, the amused glint in his eyes softens into something that almost seems sympathetic—and dare you say, apologetic?

“For what it’s worth, I’ve just been waiting for the right moment to tell you. I couldn’t resist teasing you a little—but looking at you now, I see I might’ve taken it too far,” he murmurs, bowing his head slightly in a show of contrition. “I’m sorry, little dove.”

You press your lips together, your gaze darting away from the screen. “I thought I was going crazy.” As opposed to now? “B-but, um– it’s all good, I guess.”

A flush creeps up your neck when you hear him chuckle.

Fuck, this is really happening, the hysterical thought rushes to your mind, unbidden. Chat, what’s the plan?

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 <3

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #sylus x non mc reader #sylus x oc #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

1K notes · View notes

aernx · 1 month ago

Text

IT'S A WRAP ! ⌗ 이희승 ( oneshot ver. )

synopsis ⟢ wrapping is easy when it comes to dumplings. but when it comes to your feelings…not so much. after getting separated from your childhood nemesis, lee heeseung, you think your life will go smooth like butter (js like what BTS sang). but fate has other plans when he was forced to help around in your family’s dumpling restaurant.

◌ wordcount﹒ 13.1k

◌ pairing﹒ lee heeseung x fmr

◌ genre﹒ childhood enemies to lovers, hs au, takes place in their summer break, reader is taehyun’s (txt) older sister, tbh no srs hating js silly rivalry, crack , heeyn parents r silly

◌ featuring﹒ txt, chaewon lsrfm, enhypen, brief mentions of seventeen (ily joshua n hoshi)

◌ warnings﹒ profanities, harsh language, jealousy, heeyn hating eo, kissing, fluff, heeyn silly stuffs, denial, i think that's it, oh probably bad and inconsistent grammar at times, miscommunication (that shiii)

aerinotes ⟢ u guys don't know how much i giggled at the screen when i write this 😁 THIS FIC MEANS SOOO MUCH TO MEE I HOPE U GUYS GIVE IT SOME LOVE 💗💗💗 also MY FIRST EVER LONG FIC??? aerin long fic debut!!! so im sorry if there r lots of mistakes n it's kinda messyy n if the pacing is badd !! i'll improve next time guys TRUST‼️‼️

this was previously a smau but now the smau is discontinued. i can finally say goodbye peacefully to my heeyn 🙁 i’ll miss them <3 hope you guys enjoyed this! be sure to leave a like, comment n reblog to let me know watchu think abt it !! ENJOYYYY

"MOM YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT!?" It’s only been a week since you returned from your exchange student program in Japan yet your mom was quick to throw you a bucket of ice water on a hot summer evening.

“Which part of it is not clear, dear? Heeseung is going to start working in our dumpling shop this in this last month of summer and I want you to be his mentor tomorrow.” Excuse me what? Mentor?? “You know, teach him how to use the register, how to serve the customers, and later how to wrap the dumplings.”

No way there was no chance in hell that you were going to do this. Become Heeseung’s mentor? Hell no! You would rather give Taehyun your first born privileges.

Okay, maybe reasoning with her would opt her to change her decision. “Yes, I heard you for the first time but I can’t really place the reason why you want me to do this, mom. You know that we don’t…get along that well.”

Don’t get along that well? You scoffed internally at your choice of words, it was clearly an understatement, your mother knew that too.

You and Heeseung never got along. At all. Your mother and his mother were the best of friends so ultimately that means that he was there for good and you could not escape him. At first, mini-you was glad at the thought of having a childhood friend. Maybe you two could replicate the friendship of your mothers.

Yet at the age of five, where the two of you met for the first time and he stole your toy and decided to hide it from you, you knew from that moment that you would never get along. That first impression only triggered the competitiveness in you and it became a never ending game of chase. Of course, your mothers showed disappointment with the fact that their children did not enjoy each other’s presence, hoping that as they grow up, you and him would learn to overcome this little feud of yours.

Oh how they were wrong. Along the years that follow, your hatred towards each other only grew. Even though you both hated each other, he was still a big part of your childhood. And him being your neighbour didn't even help. You were so fucking bored of that face of his.

Eventually everyone got used to this relationship you shared with the boy and both parents didn’t try to do anything about it anymore. After all there was no point.

Although your feelings towards Heeseung were more on the negative side, you adored his parents, and your parents adored him too. Your families were close but you two weren’t. When you were younger, you would make it your life mission to get Heeseung to cry and he made it his to make you irritated. But as you both grew into adolescence your behaviour began shifting.

Now, instead of sitting by your side to provoke you, he would sit the farthest from you at the dinner table and you would do your best to ignore him at every family event. This never changed, even when you got into highschool. Both of you would try your hardest to let the other’s presence turn to ghosts, yet the tension around you remains haunting.

“Come on Yn, I know you don’t have the best relationship with Heeseung, as you guys are always fighting like cats and dogs,” Your mother muttered the last part quietly. “But I trust you with him, dear. Even though you both hate each other, you’re the one that knows him best there and I feel like he’ll focus more under your gaze instead of anyone else.”

Gosh why was your mother so persistent? “Mom, have you met us?” You can hear your mother’s snicker. “Then you should know that he won’t listen to me! There’s a reason why we don’t get along, mom. He’s gonna cause so much ruckus if I become his mentor. I find no problem with asking Taehyun to guide him instead.”

Your mother knew that you didn’t want to go forward with this. But it was really a last resort of sorts. And a little part of her wished that maybe this occasion would end your feud with him because she and Mrs. Lee always wanted their kids to get along well, just like them.

“Initially, I thought about that too. But Taehyun already has a lot of plans for tomorrow and you just went home like a week ago so you have lots of free time before your senior year starts.” She pointed out.

“Who knows maybe Heeseung changed these past six months without you. Maybe he even misses fighting with you everyday.” Chuckling, your mother gave you a knowing look as your face scrunched at the thought of that.

Hah! He? Missed you? There was no way. Heeseung was probably glad you were gone for six months. In fact he probably wished you were gone forever.

“Come on, my Yn. We’ll go shopping together with Aunty Lee and I’ll get you those concert tickets for that group you like so much. I’ll buy 4 for Chaewon, Yeonjun, and Soobin too. So you guys can watch it together.”

Your eyes lit up as her offer ringed your eardrums. One day of mentoring Heeseung for shopping sprees with your mom and Aunty Lee PLUS concert tickets for you and your friends?? Sounds like a fair deal.

“Ah…you know me so well, mother. You know I will never decline those.”

“You know it, darling.”

“You want me to-what?!” Disbelief, Heeseung stood from the couch and turned towards his mother who was currently sitting cross legged on her armchair.

“What did you expect?! I told you to stop sneaking around all the time and this is final! You are working in MANDU4U, Yn’s family dumpling shop tomorrow.”

Spending his summer break working? Are you fucking kidding?

“Bu-”

Mrs. Lee stood up from her chair, levelling her gaze with her son. “No buts! I already talked to your Aunty Kang and all you have to do is show your ass over there and work.” From the tone of her voice, Heeseung knew that he messed up. It was bad, like REAL bad. Maybe he should’ve listened to his friend's advice to NOT sneak out.

Mrs. Lee shrugged before continuing. “Think of this as a new experience. You’ll be learning new things and you’ll be earning money. I see nothing wrong with this. You don’t have any right to complain, young man.”

As much as Heeseung dreaded it, he knew no point in resisting. He was at fault and if it was in other circumstances he would stand his ground but he knew better. Oh well, at least she didn’t forbid him to hang with his boys.

And besides it’s not as if he’s going to meet her. He’s aware of the fact that she went back from that program a week ago. Of course he was, his family insisted that they also accompanied picking up Yn from the airport.

Did he come along? Yes. Did he have the option not to? Also yes. Did he know why he came along? Not really. Maybe he missed her and their fights just a little bit. Or maybe not. That question remained ominous as he himself didn’t even know the correct answer.

But was he glad with the fact that she was gone for the past six months? Of course he was! Well it was a bit more quiet than usual but hey! Quiet is good right? Yeah of course. Now that she’s back does he still hate her guts? For sure, yeah definitely.

“Also Yn will be your mentor and I want you to be on your BEST behaviour and do whatever she says.” Mrs.Lee abruptly added before striding out of the room trying her best to contain her smile.

“Mom WHAT?!”

You idly stood on the gazebo of your family’s shop, glancing back and forth towards your watch as the digital digits morphs into what seemed to be eight past twenty. Heeseung was supposed to be here at eight sharp but here you were, still waiting for his stupid ass to come.

It was only five minutes after that, the sight of Lee Heeseung appeared in your line of view. Fucking finally. “Heeseung, you’re late.” You aligned your body opposing his, blocking the entry of the door with your figure as he tried to brush himself through.

“Tch, it’s whatever. Let’s just get started.” His hand longed for the handles but you were quick to stop him. “Drop that attitude, Heeseung. I don’t want this as much as you do so you better not make this any harder on me.” Your grip on his hand opted him to fix his gaze with yours.

You tighten your grip on his wrist. Not caring whether it hurted him or not–which it probably didn’t. “Use that tone on me one more time and you’ll be scrubbing the bathroom floors instead of working behind the cash register.”

Heeseung clenched his fists in between your grasp on his wrist, a low attempt of wanting to break free. “You’re not my mother, you can’t tell me what to do.” He gritted as an annoyed expression washed over his features.

“You’re right, Seungie. I’m not. I’m your employer. And you-” Your point finger shoved his chest “-have to do exactly what I say."

Lee Heeseung hated it–hated this. That helpless feeling of not being in control. Especially when his arch enemy is the one stringing him like a puppet.

Kang Yn loved it–loved this. How couldn’t you when your arch nemesis had to grovel in submission for the sake of punishment from his mother. It’s fun really. It's like having a maid–you mean– personal assistant of your own.

“No Heeseung, that's not the right way!”

“Be more thorough when checking someone’s order!”

“Gosh this is tiring. Heeseung, get me a coffee.”

Ignoring some mistakes made, the first day of work went surprisingly fine. You taught him various things. Starting from how to work the register and basic manners to serve customers and he was actually going along with what you instructed. Gee, maybe your mom was right all along–you could be really intimidating sometimes.

“This is it for today.” You said, handing him a pen to sign his attendance. “Okay, Thanks.” He calmly received it before signing under his name. Along the string hours of work between you and Heeseung, the atmosphere remained tense. But much to your surprise (and a certain part-timer named Sunoo who went to your school) the both of you endured the entire shift without biting each other’s head off.

Sure there were some occasional fights here and there but the graph always dies down after, returning to its normal wavelength as the days progress. And you were quite happy with the outcome.

One; you did not let the intrusive thoughts win and slice his throat when he was on his break and two; you did not embarrass yourself in front of the customers by screaming frantically at him (although you did do it in private) You could say that this day was a success and you were proud of yourself. Ah you were finally free from him.

Or so you thought.

“So you’re telling me your mom told you that you’ll be mentoring Heeseung for the rest of the summer break?” Soobin questioned, making you groan against your pillows. You raised your head towards the window still, the sight of the moon greeted you in an instance, gracing your room with its incandescent glow.

"She made sure to leave that part the first time she mentioned, alright." You grumbled under your breath.

Chaewon patted your head as she noticed your current distress while Yeonjun and Soobin looked at you with sympathy laced upon their irises. It was currently near twilight in the nearing end of summer. From a distance, you can hear a few neighbours that stood up late making BBQ in their backyards, while some of the houses remained still and quiet.

The light on your window was like a singular lamp amidst a dark room to your unlit neighbourhood. It was summer break so your parents didn’t mind you staying up late. They even let your friends stay over with the exception of Soobin and Yeonjun sleeping on a spare mattress on the floor.

“Yn, I knew it was too suspicious that your mom was offering you THAT much just for one day of mentoring!” Yeonjun pointed out from his mattress below before joining everyone on your bed.

“At least you’re getting money out of this, am I right?” Chaewon said after smacking the poor boy with her elbows, triggering a laugh from Soobin as he saw Yeonjun’s current state.

“-Ouch! Gosh Chae that hurt!” He threw her a nasty glare and Chaewon stuck her tongue out in response. “Plus the fact that Mama Kang AND Mama Lee promised to take you shopping makes it too good to be true to just make that a one time thing.” Yeonjun shrugged before dodging another hit from Chaewon.

“Ugh I hate it when you’re smart sometimes, Junnie.”

“Don’t forget the fact that your mom promised to buy us all concert tickets!” Soobin reminded. “Work your ass off Ms.Kang. We would be thanking you for your services!” He stood from the bed, bowing 90 degrees to you causing the room to erupt in laughter.

“You all better be thanking me for this! I don’t know how I'm going to handle him for the rest of the summer! He’s literally my neighbour! I see him everyday. I can even see him across my window!” Once more, you buried your head on the pillows, gaze unconsciously averting to the blinds covering the glass panels.

“But you hadn’t seen him nor contacted him for six months right? Surely he changed.” Chaewon pondered earning a scoff from you. “Girl let me tell you, he did not.” You answered, emphasising the “not”.

Yeonjun laughed at your misery, opting you to throw a pillow at his face. The room had gone through its nth time of laughing fit before you all started to calm down.

As the room went down from its climax, Soobin’s question seemed to pique everyone's interest. “By the way if it’s okay to ask, how did you and heeseung hate each other like this? I mean the two of you never got along. Everyone knows that but like you both definitely seem more intense now like ever since you got offered to join the exchange student program.”

You sighed before answering. “Well it’s a long story but-”

“-I was supposed to get the offer to join the exchange student program.” Just a few meters from where you and your friend gathered, Heeseung and his friends were doing the exact same thing you were doing.

They all gathered on his mattress, sharing stories as the moon reaches its peak of serenity. “Ohh i get it, so from your point of view, it seemed as if she “stole” your future.” Jay nodded at his friend as the room was filled with collected hums and a few shocked faces.

“No lie I would’ve hated them too if someone did that to me.” Jake added, agreeing to his friend’s current situation."

Heeseung only shrugged and buried himself in the comfort of his pillows. “So what are you gonna do now, hyung?” The youngest of them questioned. “I don’t know. I mean there’s no point in defying my mom when she’s persistent. So I guess I’ll just go with it.”

“Do you still hate Yn because of it now? I mean it’s been six months.” Jungwon tilted his head, curious. “I…I don’t know. We’ve never gotten along since we were five so I don’t think our relationship changed a lot.” Heeseung raised himself from his pillows, now sitting upright.

“But it's not entirely her fault, is it? If you had been a better option for the program you would still be chosen regardless.” Jay knocked some sense into his friend.

“I guess I just blamed her for being better.” A strain smile settled on his lips.

“But to be honest I don’t really care about it anymore, you know? If i really did get that exchange student program, I would've missed so many moments with you guys, including how Niki literally got a girlfriend?? Earlier than me??” Their hearts warmed to Heeseung’s statement before laughing at his last.

The night on both sides of the window ended after crescent smiles and glee surrounding the atmosphere as the sun began to rise causing them to go to a much needed slumber.

“Hey, Noona. Looks like you're in a good mood.” You entered the shop with a smile as you greeted the smiling Sunoo. “Yes because you're the first person I see here, and not that brat.” You whispered the last part.

“Quite the charmer you are, Yn.” A familiar voice rang your eardrums. Speak of the devil. “Right, I was praying you would forget this whole thing and just go sulk in your room all summer.” You grumbled, not bothering to avert your gaze to align with your nemesis behind you.

You feel his presence drawing closer and closer before halting just a few inches from your back. Sunoo is long gone now, opting to prepare some stuff in the storage room.

“And make you look good, whereas I look like the rebel child? Keep dreaming, Kang.” He whispered, voice dripping with mirth.

You scoffed rolled your eyes in response, moving forward towards the register, leaving Heeseung to fend for himself at that moment.

This is going to be a long day.

One week has passed and you are now used to seeing Heeseung lurk around the area. Now that he’s already familiar with the register and serving people you have to go to the next step: teach him how to make dumplings.

At first, you were against the idea. But your mom insisted that Mrs.Lee wanted Heeseung to be more adapt than any other employee. Hence why he needed to master more than one skill to manage. So, you gave in.

Heeseung was ready to start his new routine. Coming to the shop everyday (excluding Sundays and Saturdays) at 8am and start preparing the register and other things before opening at 9am. He’ll be honest, the first few days, he was dreading it. But eventually, being surrounded with the busy yet calming atmosphere of the shop feels so comfortable? Or maybe because he was spending his summer productively.

But yesterday, Yn had messaged him to arrive at the shop an hour earlier than usual. Seven am?! That’s basically dawn in Summer! Heeseung dragged his feet towards the welcoming door, the sun greeted him with a morning glow as he slowly entered his demise.

“Morning, sunshine. Are you awake?” Sitting in one of the chairs, you chuckled, amused at his hunched silhouette.

“You’re crazy for forcing me to work this early on. This is basically child labor!” He sat opposing you, hands folded above the table as he buried his head in between his arms.

“Well your mother consented to this. Get up.” Your request was left hanging as Heeseung replied an audible “no”, prompting you to leave the boy behind.

Droplets of water trickled to the back of his neck, stirring him awake before he-hold on why was he wet? His fingers touched the source of coldness, his head jolted up meeting your gaze. ”You’re fucking crazy!”

“Thanks, baby. Awake now?” The smirk on your lips is evident and Heeseung swore that he was going to rip your face off.

“What are we doing?” Instead of answering, you hand a slightly-damp Heeseung an apron and ushered him to wash his hands before starting. “Just go wash your hands first.” He rolled his eyes before complying to your demands.

After finishing with such tasks he returned to his position beforehand. “All clean now.” He dangled his palms to align with your vision. Now that the two of you are clean it's time to start this mission. Wrapping dumplings.

Heeseung eyes lingered on the swift movement of your fingers. Quick hands easily wrap the ball of meat between a thin layer of dough. He shifted his attention elsewhere for a second and when he returned, you were already done with the process. The perfectly wrapped mandu sat in the heart of your palms, sitting proudly before him.

“That doesn’t look hard, let me do it.” The boy shrugged, earning an amused scoff from you. He took the initiative to try it for himself, but before he could reach the layers of thin dough, he felt a slight sting lingering on his arm. “Gosh! What was that for?!”

“Do you ever pay attention? Lace your hands with some flour before taking the dough so it’s not sticky, bambi.”

Bambi? Did you just refer to him as a Disney cartoon animal?! Well sucks to be you at least he was a Disney character. Not some meaningless being.

“Crazy bitch.”

“What did you say?!”

“I said I got the hitch!” Was hitch even a word? Probably. Or not. Heeseung grudgingly dipped his fingers into the bowl of flour before spreading a light amount in his palms. He then took a thin layer of dough and a little ball of minced meat mixed with onions and other dumpling stuffings(?). He placed the ball in the center of the surface before…before…uhm what was the next step again?

His hands froze mid air for a second. Should he ask for help? Oh and get roasted for not paying attention again? No thanks, his ego was too big for that. Right he’ll figure this out. This is Lee Heeseung we’re talking about. Lee Heeseung vs dumpling, let’s see who’ll win this game.

The tall boy recalled your hand movements, trying hard to remember the steps you did. Right it was uhm….take the left corner, then the right, unite them to the center? Yeah that right. Next is…squish the edges! He’s too smart and talented for this. Heeseung 1, dumpling 0.

The satisfied smile he wore was so apparent. The tips of his finger lightly pressed onto the dough in an attempt to link them together. Except it was not sticking. He kept on applying pressure, more and more as the seconds tick. Once he thought that it would hold, he settled the…ill-shaped dumpling on the table. With his hands on his hips, he turned to face your observing stance. Not bad for his first try. Or so he thought.

Five seconds of victory was cut short when the dumpling slowly–but surely–unwrapped itself from the shape Heeseung molded it to. Heeseung 0, dumpling 1.

The guise of his face showed it all–his mouth hung open, eyes deadpanning the dumpling like it was his sworn enemy–it was so hard not to erupt in laughter. You covered your mouth to contain your glee. This was too funny.

Your oddly timed coughing shifted Heeseung’s gaze to yours. At first the look in his eyes reeks of annoyance but the sound of your echoing laugh was enough to leave a ghost of a smile on his face. You didn’t get angry, that was a first.

Heeseung was shocked to see how calm you were after witnessing his failure. (except for the laughing part) “I would be a hypocrite if I got angry at you.” You started. “The first time mom taught me how to wrap these, I would always rip the dough.”

“Oh.”

“Right.” You cleared your throat. “Let me repeat the steps again, slowly this time.”

The clueless boy watched your movements distinctly. He noticed how eased you were as you did the task at hand, focused yet you were doing it so effortlessly. He also noticed how you poke your tongue slightly when your fingers pinched the perfectly folded dumplings’ little details, and the little specks of flour that landed on the tip of your nose. There was something about you today that he couldn’t ignore.

Heeseung looked at your current expression, and suddenly you both were five again. You were sitting in his living room with a crayon tucked in between your fingers, your tongue slightly stuck out as you avert your attention to your drawing as your mothers chatter dissipates in the back.

Twelve years have passed yet you still look the same to him. The first girl that entered his life other than his mother, the first girl he fought with, and the first girl he ever loved. Not that he was ever going to admit that. But perhaps just for today, he would forget your fuse with him and pretend that everything is okay

“That’s how you make a perfect dumpling.” The curve of your lips was so warm and inviting and he felt a suspiciously warm feeling slowly settling on his chest. Well that was new. Maybe because it was too early in the morning that’s why Heeseung felt so out of it today. “Ehem, okay. I should be able to do it now.”

“Mom, I’m back!” You enter the living room, goals set to lay comfortably down at the soft cushions of your couch. “In the kitchen, sweetie! Come Yn, Aunty Lee is here.”

The smell of homemade cooking dragged you to your mother. “Hi mom, hi Auntie Lee.” Eyes crinkled as you smiled widely at the two most important figures in your life.

“Hey, honey. Hope Hee hasn't given you a hard time.” Mrs. Lee softly smiled. “Do you really need to ask that to know, Auntie?” Your joke (not) prompts the two middle aged women to laugh. “Jokes aside, I guess he's tolerable when he shuts up.”

“Yn!”

“Kidding, mom!” Not really.

“Anyways, we owe you a shopping spree. Let's go this weekend. Your shift ends at noon right, darling? What do you say?” Your eyes lit up at the offer.

Who were you to refuse?

Smell of dumplings and busy chatters crowded the shop, sunlight beaming through glass tinted windows as customers took over the vacant seats available. “Here’s your freshly steamed mandu, Auntie Park.” Mrs. Park was a regular, don’t get me wrong, she was lovely, but she could be a little…nosy.

“You’ve gotten much more beautiful since coming home from Japan.” She smiled knowingly. “Tell me, have you found any Japanese boyfriend, dear?”

Your eyes widened–not expecting her direct question. “ I can assure you, auntie. No boyfriends here.” The curve of your mouth formed upwards. “Is that so?” She squinted her eyes in suspicion, eyes darting to follow Heeseung’s moving figure a few feet away. “I see that Ha-eun’s boy is here helping. Is that one your boyfriend?”

Heeseung? You boyfriend? You grimaced at the thought. You would rather eat a raw dumpling.

“Oh auntie, literally anyone but him. Besides, I’m too busy studying and helping with the shop while dad is busy planning on opening other branches.” You chuckled, denying her assumption.

“What a perfect daughter you are! I bet Ha-yoon and Ji-woo are proud to have you as their daughter.” You were about to leave before hearing her continue. “You know, I have a son your age. You should know him, he goes to Decelis too. Park Jeongsong, are you familiar? Maybe I should set you guys up.”

She lifted her point finger to her chin. “I think you guys are compatible, he's mature….”

Park Jeongsong. Of course you were familiar. He’s one of Heeseung’s close friends and the only one that you tolerate. To be honest you were quite tempted at her offer. Jay’s got it all. Perfect looks, ridiculously sharp jawline, and most importantly manners (one that Heeseung lacked for sure). You scoffed mentally at the thought. But unfortunately, you were not looking for anyone to date for the time being.

“I’m sure he’s great, auntie. I’m just focusing on myself right now.” You politely turned her down. “Enjoy your dumplings, please tell me if you need any assistance.”

“Yes, thank you dear. I hope I wasn’t being too nosy. I’m still working on that.”

“Don’t worry about it, auntie.”

Mrs. Lee and your mother promised to pick you up right after your shift ends. It’s been two weeks since Heeseung’s arrival and you notice that he’s becoming accustomed to the work before him. Given so, this was your first time leaving him alone in the shop. Even though there were other workers, you still hadn’t completely trusted the boy.

“Double check the orders, got it.”

“-And shut the blinds when closing.” He repeated after you.

“Honestly, why are you so anxious? I’m not going to bomb this place when you leave, Yn.” Heeseung crossed his arms. “Don’t trust me enough, flower?” His glint is mischievous, teasing apparent in his tone.

“First of all, don’t call me that.” You shudder at the nickname. “Second of all, no I don’t trust you. What if this place turns to ashes when I return.”

“Okay, flower.” He was playing with you, you knew that. “I’m not even in charge of the kitchens, I promise I won’t blow this place down.”

“Hmm, okay.” Your pupils shifted left and right–as if you were looking for someone. “Sunoo, watch over him for me when I’m gone.” You untie your apron from the nape of your neck before nearing the exit earning a nod from the young boy.

The shopping spree was fruitful, they really went all out on this one. Insisting on buying you dresses, cute tops, pants, shoes, as well as a few accessories. You were grateful–of course–but you would be lying if you said it wasn’t tiring. Though as tiring as it can be, you were having fun.

You entered your house with shopping bags occupying your upper limbs, the weight heavy on your arms. Your mother had a few of her own too and you wonder how she was carrying them with grace. You both dropped the bags on the floor before entering the empty living room. “Huh, I guess Tae and your father have gone to sleep.”

To be honest, any sane person would. It was almost twilight. The three of you found a night market on your way back, compelled by the mannequins and price tags, the two women dragged you out of the car to have a look around.

“So, Yn, now that we’re alone.” Your mother settled on the couch. “Tell me-”

“-how’s everything going on in the shop?” Lee Hae-in met her son still sitting in the lounge room upon her return, his eyes glued to the show on tv. But now, the dark screen reflected two figures sitting on the cushions, a mother with the son she grounded.

“It’s not that bad, I guess.” Heeseung started. “At first it was-”

“-dreadful. I hated mentoring him. He did everything wrong and would make annoying expressions everytime I corrected him. I felt like I wanted to pull his hair out!” Your hands went up to your head in frustration triggering a laugh from your mom.

“Is that so? Now that we’re basically halfway there,-

“-How do you think about her now? About all this, I mean.” The Lee woman questioned, ears perked as she listened contently to her son before her. “Uhm, I guess we’re getting along more? I mean we don’t fight that often anymore. A few insults are thrown now and then but that’s just how we always are at each other.”

“That’s good to hear.” A satisfied smile graced the older Lee. “How about the shop? Are you doing your tasks well, dear?”

“Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”

The two older women were happy at their children’s answers. Just two more weeks or so and maybe just maybe this will mark the end of awkward dinners and uneasy tension.

“Heeseung, honey, I know you were upset with Yn after she won the exchange program instead of you. However, you’re almost an adult now. I think this is bothering her as well, why don’t you two take some time to talk about it?”

Heeseung pondered before answering his mother. Even though the tension has resided between you two for the time being, it was mostly due to professionalism to maintain poise in front of other employees and customers. If he wanted this to remain forever (or at least longer than the summer break) he would have to clear the air.

“I’ll think about it, mom.”

“Heeseug, I told you to be gentle with that!”

“Yn, I’m doing it exactly like what you told me!”

Shuffling noise and exclamation marks were the first thing Taehyun heard as he entered the shop at the break of dawn. “Gosh it's six am, they better not be fucking.” He grumbled under his breath before going into the kitchen.

“What are you guys doing?” Body leaned at the doorway, Kang Taehyun watched his hyung and noona–who claimed they hated each other–wrapping dumplings (more like wrapping each other) in a very close proximity.

Ha! Two weeks in, and they’re already getting closer. He was right. Now mom and Auntie Lee owe him so much cash for this.

You were quick to add some space in between you. The blood rushed to your face resulting to a pinkish hue. “We’re just preparing the mandus for today.”

“Riight. I’ll be at the register if you need me. Which you probably won’t.” He turned his back from the seniors behind him, the smirk on his face widened as he imagined how much money he’ll receive upon winning the bet with his mom and Heeseung’s.

flashback (few weeks ago)

Rays of sunlight occupied each corner of the living room as the songbird sang its morning praises. It was a perfect day to relax. Lee Hae-in and Kang Ha-yoon sat amidst thick cushions as they waited for their steamed milk buns to cook.

“You know, that was cheeky of you when you suggested this summer activity for Heeseung.” Ha-yoon started earning a light giggle from her dearest friend. “I have the biggest opportunity laid bare in front of me! I couldn't resist even if I could help it.”

“How long will it take for them to warm up to each other?”

“Two weeks.”

A familiar voice urged them to snap their heads in its direction, only to find the youngest Kang standing with his hand crossed over his chest.

“How are you so sure, Taehyunnie?” His mother questioned. The Lee woman also looked reluctant. “They've been hating each other for years, Tae. I don't think they will get along in two weeks.”

“Are you willing to bet on it, Auntie Lee, Mom?” His challenging tone was inviting. Who were they to deny a bet? Without a second doubt, the two women nodded their heads and smirked. “You're so on.”

With a final click!, the shop was officially closed for the day. Heeseung handed the key to you before taking something from his bag. “Yn, hold on.” His hand is placed on your shoulder, urging you to turn towards his direction.

“Hm? What’s wrong? You tilted your head, confusion written all over your face. The boy released the light grip he had on you before lifting up his free hand and unfolding his wrapped fingers.

A gasp escaped your lips at the item he held before you. There it was, a small lego figurine sitting on the center of his palm. And it was not just any figurine, but it was your favorite back when you were five. Your eyes wander into his own, the small smile adorning his face along with the swirl of emotion pooling in his vision.

You remember the day you lost it. How the world seemed to crumple beneath your feet as you lost–no–Heeseung stole the main character of your ultimate favourite lego friends set.

“Missed her?” He nudged the figurine towards you, a sign for you to take it and you did just so. “So you did steal her, huh. You denied it so much back then, I still remember.” You bite your lip in effort to suppress the curve that was slowly creeping in, but seemingly failed as you examined the small toy in your hands.

The plastic was old and details were worn out due to aging but aside from that, all the parts remained intact and well kept. Heeseung did not break it nor ruined it like you thought he would. Instead he took great care of it. Why?

“I recall, it was the first time we met. We were at my housewarming party and I really wanted you to play with me and Tae, but you didn’t.” The raven haired boy reminisced, the smile still etched on his face. “You kept playing with this lego set without any bother in the world. I really wanted to play with you but all you do is ignore me.”

“So you stole the figurine to get my attention?” You raised your left eyebrow, an attempt to guess where he was going. A small chuckle rang through your ears. “Well, it worked I guess but not in the way that I hoped. After that I just–I don’t know–kept annoying you because that’s the only way you’ll ever pay attention.”

His words settled heavily on your heart. All this time, your feud growing up was just a matter of attention. Guilt crawled from the depths, slowly leaking through your eyes. Heeseung was quick to notice. “Yn, that was so long ago, no need to be guilty.” His hands went back to your shoulders. Somehow, the warmth radiating from him felt nice–comforting.

“We could’ve been those childhood friends.” You whispered, rewriting memories inside your head. Echoing a “what if” scenario if you got along from the beginning.

“We could be now, if you want.” Dozens of stars are reflected in the dark pupils of Heeseung’s doe eyes and you can’t bring yourself to look away, not even if you tried. Your gaze shifted to his lingering hand on your scapula before urging closer in his embrace. Arms wrapped itself around his body, your movement slow and careful, giving him space to walk away. But he didn’t. He enveloped you further into himself. Your face is pressed against his chest, eyes closed. No words are spoken but the gesture speaks volumes.

“I’m sorry, Yn.” Heeseung broke the silence between you. “For everything I did to you since we were five.” He whispered, fingers trailing the strands of your hair. “And more importantly, for taking out my anger on you when you got accepted to the exchange program instead of me.”

“I’m sorry too.” You replied, head turning up to meet his waiting gaze. “I joined the program to spite you. Didn’t think I would get it, but I somehow did and made everything worse.” You unwrap each other from the embrace, solemn looks embroidered on your faces. A gulf of harsh wind swept through you, your body shivered slightly at the impact, instantly missing the warmth from the previous action.

“You deserve it, Yn. I was jealous, I could admit that now. If I had been the better choice, I would still be chosen regardless.”

“Oh, Heeseung.” Your frown is evident, denting your features and the boy before you feels the urge to wipe it off so badly as if it had no right to tarnish your perfect face.

“It's all in the past now, flower. We're good now, right?” Heeseung smiled and after, you feel a hand slip itself into your own, relinquishing the comfort from the hug. You looked at your entwined hands before offering a small nod.

“It’s getting late. Let's walk home together, yeah?”

A week has gone by in a blur of routine. Summer break is ending and no amount of complaints is going to stop the time from running. Heeseung now stands right in front of your door, heart palpitating and hands sweaty. It's been 5 minutes now and he's still contemplating whether he should knock on your door or just leave at this point.

After that night, your relationship with him began to shift. As you arrive at your designated homes, you two meet again across the windows of your rooms. Exchanging waves and passing short notes through the glass barrier before bidding good night. It was like straight out of a Taylor Swift music video.

Heeseung caught a smile corrupting his features before closing his mouth in shock. Did he just smile at the memory of you?? What. The. Fuck. He shook his head abruptly from side to side, almost as if he had a goal to remove something from his mind.

Just as he was doing so, the door suddenly swung open. “Heeseung?” A voice called out, confusion lacing her tone. “Auntie Kang, Hi!” The boy offered a flashy smile, almost blinding the middle aged woman. “What are you doing here, Hee?” The woman smiled at the sight of him and raised her eyebrow in amusement at his…enthusiasm?

Heeseung was happy in the early morning. This was a first.

“Are you okay? Why do you seem so happy? Too happy maybe.” Her eyes squinted in suspicion. “Whaaat? Nothing, Auntie! Just excited because dad said I could use his motorcycle today.”

Your mother hummed in understanding. Muttering how kids these days are so funny before asking the bambi-eyed boy, “What are you doing here thou-”

“Hee, you're here!” An excited voice called out, prompting the two figures on the doorway to look your way.

So this is what it's about. Mrs.Kang bit her bottom lip to contain the smile from seeping through. Noting the interaction in her mind to tell Heeseung’s mother for their planned brunch in a few hours.

Your mother wasn't oblivious, something clearly changed between you too. Gone were the two kids that used to chase each other in the courtyard, sabotaging each other’s items for revenge. You’re all grown up now and Kang Hayoon almost felt a tear drop from her left eye.

Call her dramatic but hey, Heeseung is as much like her child as you are. Just like you are a daughter to the Lees. And these two children used to be muttering curse words why chasing each other.

Kang Hayoon felt a wave of surging proudness. While your father is busy taking care of building another branch for the restaurant, you offered to manage the current one for the summer so your mom could rest. Even with your position as Heeseung’s mentor, you still insist doing so with the excuse that Heeseung is already well adapted with everything now.

You reached the door, giving your mom a quick kiss on the cheek and a goodbye before leaving with the boy. “Bye mom, it’s almost eight. We’re going to the restaurant now!” You greeted her from the motorcycle seat. “Bye, Auntie! We’ll be careful, don't worry!” He smiled once more and with a final wave, the two sped away from the driveway leaving the smiling woman on her porch.

“Hae-in needs to hear about this.” Your mother giggled before calling Heeseung’s mom on dial and closing the door as she decided that she could not wait for brunch to tell her.

To say Sunoo was shocked was an understatement. He stood behind the register, preparing the cash for change as he was met with his boss (you) and the intern (heeseung) got out of a motorbike together. His eyes were like saucers and his jaw was wide open. He’s so used to seeing you both fight in the mornings that it felt so…weird seeing the two of you all smiley.

“Fuck, I owe Taehyun 5 bucks now.” He whispered lowly, silently cursing at the bet he lost. The boy smiled and greeted you as well as Heeseung before returning to his current task, not forgetting to make those classic Sunoo bewildered faces behind the register and away from your prying eyes.

Taehyun arrives later with some special premade dumplings made by your mother. Passing by Sunoo as he received the cash with a swift motion in triumph. You and Heeseung are both too easy. He thought, suppressing the singular curve forming on his lips.

The restaurant thrives under your management. You silently thank your dad for teaching you these skills since you were little. Heeseung is currently working as a waiter (because you think he is still wonky at wrapping dumplings), busy tending to curious aunties with his charm. After your little heart to heart, you start to see him in a different light. The way his smile deepens as he is asked about his interests, the politeness seeping through his crinkled eyes when he excused himself and moved closer to you-wait what??

“You think I wouldn't notice you staring, flower?” You grimaced at the decor beside you, finding any mistake palpable in your surroundings, and ignoring the way your stomach fluttered at the nickname he just called you. Heeseung chuckled at your antics, finding you adorable.

“Staring? Hah! You’re so full of yourself, Heeseung.” Your false laughter echoed through the restaurant, turning a few heads from other workers before you threw them a glare to go back to work. “That was Jay and Jake’s moms. They were wondering how I’m doing.” You scrunch your eyebrows at his explanation. “Okay? I didn’t ask what you were doing, Lee.”

“Back to last name basis? You wound me, baby.” The bambi-eyed boy placed his hand on his chest, feigning a hurt look on his face. You rolled your eyes at him (and that ridiculous petname) before shoving him lightly. “Go back to work, employee.”

“On it, boss.” He replied, not forgetting to throw a wink at you before opting back to work. Fuck, what was he doing to you?

You’re pacing back and forth across your room, hands on your hips, and hair all disheveled. Chaewon laid comfortable on your mattress, elbows supporting her upper body as she watched your distressed state with amusement. “Yn, you’re going crazy.”

Tonight was an overdue girls night, meaning Chae is over at your house for the weekend. This day also marks the second last week of summer. That means one more week ‘till you are back to textbooks and exams. You groaned at the thought (and at Chaewon) before inching towards the window. Your eyes subconsciously reached the house across yours, revealing your beloved neighbor–shirtless–his ridiculously sculpted figure standing there on the other side of his window for the whole world (you) to see as he held what looked like shirts on his left hand and his phone on the right pressed on his ear as if he was calling someone.

“Uhm Yn, you’re gawking.” Your best friend peered behind you. Her hands on your shoulders as she took a peek of the sight before you. You hurriedly closed the blinds in reflex. “Damn okay, you don’t want me looking at your man. I’ll be respectful.” A sheepish smile kissed Chaewon’s face before turning her back on you and jumping back into bed.

“Chae, something is wrong with me.” You fall face flat to your bed, right beside your girlfriend. “Everytime I see him, I feel this weird feeling in my chest–and no it’s not the urge to pull out his hair.” You murmured, flipping your body to align with the ceiling before continuing. “Which is really weird because I used to always feel that way.” You pointed out, index finger up to enhance your stance. “But now everytime I see his face I just want to-want to-”

“Kiss him?” Chaewon’s smirk is glowing in her features, fully dripping with mischief. You sat up at her reply before turning your head towards your best friend, your expression shaped in disbelief. “Chaewon, what the hell.” You grab your nearest plushie–one that you stole from Taehyun’s best friend, HeuningKai–before (affectionately) beating the brown-eyed girl with it.

The sound of laughter filled the room like oxygen. “Yn, you can hit me all you want but you can’t deny it.” The raven haired girl said between her fits of giggle. “After that little apology session, you just want to kiss him pretty.” The wiggle of Chae’s brows urged you to throw the plushie right at her face. Your friend groaned at the impact before recovering as if it was nothing.

Suddenly, everything comes crashing down like an airplane with a failing engine. You paused abruptly, a huge thought bubble forming above your head. Fuck did you like him? Like, like–like him?? No, you can’t. You can’t be catching feelings with the boy you just made amends with a week ago. The boy you swore to hate since you were toddlers.

Chaewon read the expression on your face like an openbook before opting to sit across from you. “Yn, for what’s worth, he’s a really nice person. And he’s practically already family.” Her hands made their way to your shoulders. The feeling is familiar but different. Chaewon’s arms are lighter and more poised in contrast to Heeseung’s warm touch. Your head darted to your covered window, curiosity pooling in your heart at what he was doing and what he would think of this–of you.

“Imagine telling your family that you and Heeseung are a thing.” Your best friend started. “Auntie Lee and Auntie Kang are going to start jumping in glee and start preparing for your wedding with an eight week honeymoon plan to the Bahamas.” You rolled your eyes at Chae’s daydream. Though deep down, your heart swelled at the thought, offering a silent prayer as hope for the future.

“Ever since that day, he’s been, I don’t know, different.” Distress is evident in your sigh, storms of doubt clouding your thoughts. “Maybe I’m getting attached to him, I’m not sure. Maybe I’m spending too much time with that guy.” You place two hands on Chaewon’s shoulders before shaking her. “Chae, baby, loml, cleanse me, like right now.” Chaewon nodded at the request like a diligent soldier before shaking you with much more intensity.

“All cleansed now?” She asked, before stopping the vast movement. Your head is spinning, figuratively and literally, and you raised both of your thumbs toward the raven haired girl. “Fuck, I like him. I like Lee Heeseung.” You confessed against a pillow you found beside you, banging your head at the soft cushion before muffling your exasperated scream as Chaewon sat behind and patted your back in reassurance.

What a way to start girls' night.

Heeseung thinks you’re acting weird. You’ve been avoiding him lately–more than usual. Was it because he’s not improving with his dumpling wrapping skills? Or was it because that stunt Jake convinced him to pull, ending with him shirtless before his opened window across your own as he pretended to call someone, looking all important, while it was Jake on the other end, fully assuring him that this plan is foolproof. That it will make you go all drooling on him and finally fall in love.

The bambi-eyed boy mentally cursed at Jake. His plan definitely made you think Heeseung was some weirdo. Fuck, he just ruined all his chances with you and it’s all because of that stupid Austrilian.

Heeseung came true to his feelings one random night in the middle of a night ride with you. You both just finished closing up the shop, bidding farewell to your other workers before logging off for the night.

The boy noticed your tired demeanor, immediately slipping your hand in his before leading you to his bike. “What's the hurry, Hee?” You giggled softly at his antics, the sound speeding his drumming heart ever so slightly.

“Come on, I wanna show you something,” He unclasped your joint hand, and the warmth soon returned as he fixed your helmet on your head before adjusting his own.

Heeseung drives at a medium pace. Not too slow to bore you but also not too fast to risk your lives. The bambi-eyed boy passed your houses, earning a curious look from you. You watch as you exit the suburbs to a little road near the highway. The view from above was breathtaking, city lights cover the vast land like pieces of your lego city collection. You gasped at the beauty ahead of you. The dark haired boy stopped at the hook of the road, taking off his helmet and yours as his steps started inching towards the railings of the empty road.

You follow closely behind, basking on the beauty of the night. The city is still lively–it always is. A contrast to the sleeping stars that hung on the horizon, blinking in haze as humans are left to wonder from below.

Your hand is placed beside his on the railing. Gentle wind kissed the tip of your nose with grace, prompting you to close your eyes to enjoy the serene moment. “This is nice.” You whispered, releasing all the stress harboring on your shoulders and Heeseung hummed in agreement, his head turning in your direction.

The boy watched the sight before him with much intent. His focus shifted to the details of your skin, blurring the busy city’s whispers. Remnants of neon lights were reflected on your face below the moonlight. He noticed your lids fluttering before gazing at the stars above. “What a pretty view.”

Heeseung’s eyes remained on you, the city and sky distorted as he pinned his vision on you. “Yeah, it’s breathtaking.”

The two of you went home in comfortable silence. Your head slowly drowsing on his back before you fix your position to sit upright. Heeseung chuckled at your sleepy state before muttering, “You can sleep, flower. We’ll be home in no time.” His tone is soft on your ears and you hummed at him–too sleepy to voice a proper reply. And before you know it, two arms wrapped itself around Heeseung’s waist, prompting his heart to stop for a second before running at a faster pace. You settle comfortably behind him, your cheek pressed on his back as he drives with such carefulness and grace to your homes.

After returning to his own room, we wasted no time to call his closest friends, confiding to them about his newfound realization. He was in love with you, so badly.

Today was the day. The day where Heeseung is going to confront you. He’s tired of having to walk around eggshells around you, he wants to make things right, clear out any misunderstandings (and maybe confess if it all goes right). You texted him yesterday that you won't be needing a ride from him as you had to tend to other matters earlier than usual. As much as it disappointed him, he had no choice but to comply, not wanting to push past the boundaries you built.

Heeseung arrived at the restaurant much earlier than usual. He glanced at his watch, the time read 7:30. Seven fucking thirty. Gosh it was dawn for holiday mood Heeseung (even though it was 30 minutes earlier than his usual routine, BUT that was 30 minutes of sleeping wasted) The things he’d do for you. The boy sighed, fumbling with a copy of the key you gave him before.

He inserted the key towards the hole, turning it to the left in an attempt to unlock the door but failed in doing so. Heeseung paused before examining the handle, confusion glazing his features as his hand grabbed the knob before slowly pulling it down and opening the door with success.

What? Did you forget to lock the door before closing yesterday? No, he was sure you didn't. You were never that irresponsible. In fact you were probably never irresponsible at all. Did someone break in? There were no signs of force breaking in so that was not possible.

An echo of laughter rang through his ears, stopping Heeseung from his tracks. He peered his eyes at the sound that seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Slowly, the boy made his way towards the source, curiosity tugging his heart.

The kitchen light was on and through the window, Heeseung could perfectly see two people standing at the dumpling-making-table-thingy. His eyes widened at the revelation, there was you talking to another man beside you. He's seen him before, but he just can't quite place who. It’s one of those boys you hang around with. Soobin and Yeongjum? Whatever it was.

The boy squinted his eyes, trying to make out who exactly was this person beside you. A distraction to suppress the gnawing feeling pooling in his chest as another line of laughter escaped your lips.

His heart ached when your laugh settled on his mind. A pang of jealousy hit him across the face. You never laughed that much with him. Well maybe it was due to your past rivalry, but it's all gone now, right?

Well maybe he was wrong because your words proved him otherwise.

“By the way, Yn.” The man before you called out, prompting you to hum in reply. “How's everything, you know? With the Heeseung thing and all.”

“It's been really tiring. With school coming soon and everything, ugh.” You sighed, the crease in your eyebrows deepening and Heeseung felt the urge to kiss it away. Though he grounded himself at his position, still behind the walls as he listened to your conversation.

“I’ve been avoiding him lately, Junnie.” His ear perked up at your confession, subconsciously leaning in to hear you more clearly. Ah yeah, Yeonjun. That was his name.

“Why?” Yeonjun asked, confusion wrapping his tone as his hands skillfully wrapped the dumpling before him. Your lack of answer shifted Heeseung's focus to the ridiculously perfect dumpling sitting proudly on Yeonjun’s hand and how quickly he moves on to the next one, wrapping with such professionalism as if he's been folding dumplings since he was born.

Heeseung’s annoyance was cut short as he heard your answer. “I don't know. I just…don't want him to get the wrong idea.” Your voice is small, barely heard, but Heeseung could hear the words clearly.

You didn't want him to get the wrong idea. That was it, that was basically a rejection. You don't feel the same. The bambi eyed boy felt his heart sinking in his chest. The same organ weighs fifty thousand pounds heavier than it usually was, dragging him down with it.

“Anyway, you're driving to the concert, right?” You questioned, tone picking up ever so slightly.

Heeseung furrowed his eyebrows. Concert?

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He heard Yeonjun reply. “You've worked so hard to earn these tickets, we’ll have the best time there together, Ynnie.”

The boy behind the kitchen window resisted the urge to scoff. So that's it? You agreed to mentor him for a stupid concert date? Jealousy was a drug and Heeseung dwelled in it with no hesitation. He ignored the way his heart clenched at the thought of losing you. Well, you were never his in the first place.

They boy left the restaurant in the same manner he went in but with more passive aggression. Taking the keys with him before driving off back to his house. Fuck this stupid mentoring shit and Fuck these stupid frelings.

You remained unaware of the tragedy that happened outside as you continued to focus on preparing the delicacy. “Yn, you have to tell him.” Yeonjun’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You still, knowing exactly what he meant, while hands are still moving–folding the dough as if it ran an automatic program. “I don't know, Junnie. What if he doesn't reciprocate my feelings?”

“He would be stupid not to.”

Yeonjun was right, you had to be true to your feelings. Your friend left after he finished helping you with the dumplings, leaving you alone amidst your thoughts as the workers arrived one by one. You watch by the front door carefully, eyes focused to find a certain bambi-eyed boy. Concern clouded your mind, the clock strikes nine and Heeseung has yet to make his appearance.

This was weird, he was never late (save the first day). Well maybe because you’ve been going here together for the past few days, but he was never late even at the beginning. Did something happen to him? “Sunoo, have you seen Heeseung?” You turned your head towards Sunoo behind the register, eyebrows furrowed in question. The boy shook his head in response and you ignored the way your heart sank.

You grab your phone from your pocket, muscle memory automatically hovering towards his contact. These past few days you and Heeseung’s been texting more often, and though you hate to admit it, the feeling made you giddy to the heart. Your fingers typed on the keypad in a swift move, texting a quick “where r u it’s late” and a “r u okay?” right after.

The boy in question was laid in his bed. Back against the mattress as he wallows in heartbreak songs all morning. The ping from his phone urged him to open the screen, his chest heaved heavily upon seeing your messages. Why do you care? He scoffed after reading the message mentally. Just let that Yeonjun replace him or something. Heeseung suppressed his impulsive thought to type that in and settled with a lame excuse instead. “not feeling well, won’t come today. sry." Before turning up the volume as Mr. Loverman comes to play.

You frowned at his reply, a worried expression taking over your features. “oh no :( get well soon hee.” Your fingers moved before you could control them. “rest up. I’ll come over after my shift.”

Heeseung widened his eyes as he read your reply, clearly not expecting your last statement. He quickly sat up, thinking of yet another lame excuse to avoid you seeing him. Fuck this was bad, his plan surely backfired on him. “U CANT! Uhm it’s infectious, don’t come near me or u’ll get sick.”

Infectious? What? Is Heeseung okay? You spent the whole week maybe even month with him lately, and whatever it is he caught, there’s probably a big change you’ve caught it too. “Did u get covid or smthn?” You typed in, concerned for yourself too slowly creeping in. It’s been years since the pandemic, you were even surprised it was still a thing. “does it mean I cld have it too? Shld i get tested? Yk what imma get tested rn.”

“It’s not covid!” His reply made you pause on your tracks. “It’s nthn srs, u don’t have to come. Js focus on the shop.”

“Will u return tmrw?” You questioned, no effort in containing your curiosity. “Idk, we’ll see.”

Yeah right, “we’ll see.” Heeseeung scoffed at his own text. He’ll see if he recovered from heartbreak enough to be able to see your stupidly beautiful face. The boy locked his phone before opting to throw it to his bed as he continued to blast to a thousand more sad songs. Fuck you and your perfect self. Why don’t you just go take care of Yeonjun when he’s sick of something.

Friday comes in a flash. The sun has set twice since Heeseung’s disappearance and he thinks two days are enough time to sulk and return to his current summer disposition. It was his last day here anyways. After this, school will return and you both will just pretend the other doesn't exist as usual.

He makes his way past the front doors, mind unfocused as he ventures inside the restaurant. His tired eyes met yours, and for one second Heeseung forgets everything he eavesdropped that morning. “Heeseung.” You called out, surprise laced on your tone, clearly not expecting his return after disappearing from the face of earth. The boy resisted the desire in his heart to just run and hug you until you suffocate. But the remnants of your voice that haunted him till this day pulled him back. “I’ve been avoiding him, Junnie. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

Right, you don’t like him that way. He has to remind himself of that and drill it onto his brain. “Heeseung?” You draw closer at his silence. Your hand slowly made its way to his arm, touching the skin slightly before the boy nudged back, avoiding your grasp.

Oh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, whatever. I’ll just go to work now.”

You don’t know what’s going on, you don’t know what’s wrong. His tone is indifferent, cold, and weaved with a harsh emotion you can’t quite place. The boy passed by you, accidentally bumping your shoulder before starting his usual routine. You could almost hear your heart breaking in your chest, the feeling dragging you down as rain started to pour, the clouds diminishing the ray of sunlight left in your eyes and the sky.

The rest of the day is filled with awkward tension and forced professionalism. Heeseung is aware of his status in the restaurant so he maintained his poise. Though he can’t help but steal glances of you, managing the schedule and tending the customers with such light in your eyes, contrast to his gloomy vision. The pain in his heart is subduable but he hates it. It was stupid of him to fall for you in the first place. You were always there, not even 200 meters away from him everyday, yet why do you still remain so out of reach?

Yellow hue dissipates into serene blue, the stars finally waking up to light the dark night. Heeseung waits behind, leaning on his motorcycle as you close up for the day. This was it, his last shift and probably his last one-on-one interaction with you.

As much as Heeseung wants to avoid you right now, he doesn’t have the heart to make you walk back alone. After all the past two days has been enough.

The ride back home was quiet, awkward silence cut through the tension like knife slicing though a piece of room temperature butter. The boy stops in front of your driveway, waiting for you to remove your helmet before parking the bike in his garage.

“Thank you.” Your whisper graced his ear, your gaze finding him like a pirate longing for her lost treasure. “For the ride…and for everything.” Was what you said before turning your back on him and reaching towards your front door.

Heeseung was quick to return home, not forgetting to wipe the strain tear that escaped his right eye as he reached the comfort of his room. Gosh was he stupid.

“Babe, do you think Hoshi is going to notice me if I use this top or the other?” Chaewon stands in front of the full length mirror, opting two tops each on her left and right hand. The question rang pass through your ears, your focus all poured towards your window, gaze stuck on the glass panels across your own, his midnight blue curtains covering the interior, screaming at you like it held a “MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS” sign right on your face.

Your best friend turned her head towards you at your lack of reply, eyebrows furrowed as she noticed your current predicament. She was quick to move towards your window and closed the blinds, bursting the rain cloud forming above your head. “Yn, spill the beans.” Chaewon’s voice is serious and compelling, and just like that, words start spilling from your mouth. You told how gentle and considerate he’s become for the past week, the occasional night rides, the conversation that continued till midnight, the little notes you passed from your window, and the fact that he suddenly started to act cold and weird on you since Wednesday.

Chaewon listened with much intent, her hands moved quickly to wipe your damp cheeks as the tears fell without any warning. Well good thing you haven’t started your makeup. “You have to talk to him, baby.” She started, hands gentle on the crown of your head. “I’m going to beat him up for making you cry.” She whispered lowly, triggering a chuckle from your throat.

“How? All he does is avoid me. I don’t even know what I did wrong.”

The raven-haired girl hummed in response, the gears of her brain spinning. “Don't your families have a joint dinner together every last Sunday of the month?” You nodded slowly at her question, mind deliberately following where she was going. “That’s tomorrow, you’ll talk to him then. Steal him away after dinner or something.” She lifted up her arms to your shoulders before shaking them hard. “Let me cleanse you. For now, let's have fun, look at hot men dancing and doing fanservice. Forget ALL the drama.”

A chuckle escaped your lips as the light made its way back to your eyes. She’s right. Today you’re going to forget about Heeseung and that stupidly pretty face of his. Tonight you’re going to go to that SEVENTEEN concert and occupy your mind with Joshua Hong.

Family dinner is awkward as usual. Well for you and Heeseung, not for your parents and brother. Taehyun talking about something with your parents as you sat across the boy that’s been avoiding you. You dismissed the desire to look at his face because right now you are stuck in a perplexity. You don’t know if you want to punch him or you want to kiss him. Well you do know that you want to do it hard, either of the options doesn’t matter.

Your mothers left the dining room to prepare dessert and Heeseung excused himself to go to take something from his room. You took this as an opportunity, muttering “I need to go to the bathroom real quick.” before exiting the space to follow after him. Missing the way Taehun spoke to your dad and Heeseung’s. “50 bucks say that they’ll make out in his room.”

You sped towards the hall, taking his hand as you pulled him into his chambers. The bambi eyed boy felt like an intruder at his own living quarters, his eyes widened in shock, not expecting your actions. “Heeseung, let’s talk.” You start, voice sturdy and serious, cornering the boy before you with an arm beside his shoulder to block any escape route, his back pressing against the wooden door.

“What…what do you mean? Th-there’s nothing to talk about.” The boy grumbled, trying his best to not fluster under your gaze. Gosh why were you so close? Heeseung’s breath became shallow and quicker, the tips of his ears morphed into a crimson shade as he noticed your proximity.

Your eyes squinted at his sheepish reply. “Don’t act stupid, Lee. You’ve been avoiding me all of a sudden with like absolutely no reason!” A polished finger made its way to the dark-haired boy’s chest before he felt a light pressure at the contact. “You disappeared from the shop for two days–you’re welcome by the way for not telling our parents–and started acting like I don’t deserve your time or something.” You shove repeatedly at the same point, frustration swallowing you entirely and Heeseung? He just braced the impact like it was nothing to him.

Heeseung stilled as he waited for you to calm yourself, his gaze tenderly settled on you, in contrast to the emergency sirens that’s swarming his head like a busy ER hospital. Fuck, what was he gonna tell you? That he overheard you and Yeonjun and that he avoided you because he can’t handle a little jealousy and perhaps competition? Were you and Yeonjun even a thing? His mind is in scrambles and he can’t seem to get anything out.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you like that.” You peer towards the floorboards, features flushing scarlet as guilt wraps the previous emotion away. Your finger is still on his chest and before you can lower it down, a warm hand enveloped your knuckles. Chocolate colored iris melt into your own letting a thousand emotions seeping through like an overflowing glass of water akin to an eternal fountain. “Yn, let me explain everything.”

So he did and you let him. Heart echoing in sync against your ribcage, his hand not leaving yours anytime soon as he rubs soft circles. You almost melt in his touch. Keyword: almost. Gosh Yn were you that touch starved? Or did you really miss him that badly?

“I overheard your conversation with Yeonjun last Wednesday morning.” He confessed, thumb caressing your skin in a gentle motion. You can hear the gears of your brain spinning before wondering, “Last Wednesday…Yeonjun…What? It was like half past seven, how were you there? You said you were sick.”

“Yeah, let me continue first.” You nodded at his statement. “I wanted to, uhm I don’t know, like surprise you by going there early?” Heeseung paused, silently questioning his past self. “Oh, I also got curious why you didn’t want to ride together that morning.” The boy spontaneously added. “First when I entered I was confused why was the door unlocked but then I heard laughs–your laugh from the inside and I guess I wanted to know who made you laugh like that.”

You soaked his words like a sponge’s first contact with running water. The pattern of his thumb movements is still softly caressing your epidermis, offering you a peace of mind as you sink in his explanation. “Then I saw you with Yeonjun all comfortable and I got jealous. I realise you never smiled at me like that or laughed that much with me around. I got so jealous that I just couldn’t see you or I’ll burst in frustration.”

He stopped stroking your palm and instead squeezed it firmly before fidgeting it with both hands. “I also heard about the concert date. So I found out you mentored me for a month to get a concert date with another man. He must be pretty special, huh.” His movements went to halt and you hate how your heart seemed to ache for more–more of his touch.

“Yeonjun and I are just friends.” Your whisper is gentle upon his ears, the implication of another statement relieved his whole body. You’re still single. “He was helping out because he lost a bet and well he was damn good at wrapping dumplings too.” You chuckled, mind drifting to that particular moment and as if on cue, Junnie’s wise words echoed through your mind. You have to tell him how you feel, Yn.

“Yn I-”

“Heeseung-”

You both started simultaneously startling each other with the synchronisation. “You go first, Hee.”

“Are you sure? You can go-”

“You look like you need to get something out that badly.” You attempted to joke, lifting up the heavy mood that surrounds you like a thick fog.

Heeseung took a deep breath as he stepped closer towards you. His back is not leaned against the door anymore and his gaze is stuck on yours. “Yn I…I like you. Fuck, I love you, even, probably, I don’t know.” The boy pulled your still joint hands, lifting it up before kissing the skin in a gentle manner, one that leaves you yearning for more.

“But I want to…figure it out. With you, if you don’t mind.” Your connecting gaze doesn’t break. You breathe in his confession like a drug, addicted to the true sound of his heart. The light in his eyes dimmed at your lack of reply. But before he could turn away, a force pulled him down from the nape of his neck as warm lips pressed against his own, soft but also fierce, not lacking of passion. Almost as if you’ve been waiting to do this.

The boy doesn’t wait to reciprocate, one of his hands slithered on your waist like it was meant to be there as the other cups your cheek, angling it sideways to deepen the kiss. You could feel it, all the raw emotion rushing through the action. And right now, this is all that matters. His lips are gentle on yours, moving with such care like you were the most precious thing in his possession. Years of tension and harbored feelings melted into the kiss, you pulled him even closer to you, like you can’t handle any remaining distance between you.

Heavy breaths echoed across the room as your faces deepened into five shades of maroon, your past actions finally settling into you. You couldn’t believe it. You just kissed Lee Heeseung. And he kissed you back. If you were to tell this moment to your five year old self, you swore she was gonna punch you in the face for having Heeseung’s cooties.

“So…uhm, I like you too?” You sheepishly smiled, still enveloped in his embrace. The warmth excluding him started to feel like home.

The boy before you mirrored your smile before quickly pecking your lips. You both laughed at the carefree moment. Finally after a decade and two years of constant fighting and suppressed feelings, you both came true to another.

“Come and give me another kiss, girlfriend.” Heeseung felt the corner of his mouth curling up, eyeing his love. The newfound status rolled out of his tongue like it was second nature, like he had practiced it a couple hundred times before.

The butterflies swarming your stomach still continued to linger and even increased tenfold. The tips of your ears showcasing the color of your favorite fruit–strawberries. But instead of melting into a mush (like you would prefer to tbh), you hummed in thought, leaning backwards with his hands wrapped on your waist supporting your back before replying, “Girlfriend?” Your eyebrow shot up. “Maybe after one date, then I’ll consider.”

Heeseung harbored no other emotion in his gaze rather than one reeking of amusement and love as he kissed the tip of your nose, amplifying the crimson shade of your facade.

"Okay, next Saturday, 7pm. Wear something nice, baby."

BONUS:

You and Heeseung made your way back to the dining table with flustered faces, (slightly) swollen lips, and a suspiciously good mood. Taehyun raised his eyebrows at the two older people before him, his gaze later shifted to the side, making eye contact with your dad and Hee’s before receiving two fifty bucks under the table.

Ah, what a good day. Now he just needs to collect the remaining money from Auntie Lee and your mom’s bet.

Kang Ha-yoon and Lee Hae-in watched as their children exchanged sheepish glances instead of muttering curses at the other, a surging proudness fills the air like oxygen, letting the two woman finally breathe in the air with no cut throat tension radiating from you and Heeseung.

They might’ve lost a hundred bucks and may or may not owe Taehyun a new PS5, but as awkward dinners turn into lively conversations (without any passive aggression lacing in your tones) the two women send knowing smiles to each other.

It seemed as if their plan had worked. A little too well maybe but hey, maybe they'll officially be family if this continues. After all, your mothers have always secretly fantasised about yours and Heeseung’s wedding without any knowledge that there is a bigger chance of it coming true.

The private pinterest board rotting in your mother’s account may be for good use after all.

Fin.

TAGLIST -> @jiwuu @xylatox @ttulixia @iboughtnjz @bubblytaetae @wintereals @manuosorioh @ddolleri

AERNX 2025

#enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x you #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #enhypen imagines #enhypen x y/n #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung x you

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purifiedclitoris69 · 2 months ago

Text

Some Place Safe

Natasha Romanoff x Supersoldier!R

Warnings: Angst, Alluded SA, Violence, ETC

Summary: You were raised to be a weapon. Loving her was the only thing they didn’t teach you to survive. She escaped. You let her. And you never planned to follow. (Heavily inspired by sinners LOL)

You were born in the shadow of war—an accident, a consequence of two operatives colliding in the chaos of a mission. Your mother didn’t live long enough to hold you. You never knew her name. You never knew your own.

They took you in—not out of mercy, but out of opportunity.

The Red Room didn’t raise children. It raised weapons. You were placed in a second-tier orphan program, a quieter project—off the books, away from the widows. They didn’t dress you in black leather or teach you seduction. They taught you obedience. Stillness. Fear.

You learned not to cry by the time you were three. Every moment of comfort was conditional. Every word of praise was a tool. You were nothing more than a blank slate with muscle and reflex. You were tested, shaped, punished, refined. They didn’t want loyalty. They wanted control.

By the time you were ten, you could speak five languages, disappear in any crowd, and kill with a pencil. But you still didn’t know your name. They made sure of that.

When the Red Room joined hands with HYDRA, they sent you away—one of a few deemed stable enough to be "enhanced." You remember the cold first. The facility buried beneath snow and silence. The needles came next. Then the pain. Then the darkness.

HYDRA took what the Red Room started and broke it open. They injected you with a serum they said would make you strong. Faster. Better. But all it did was blur the line between survival and violence.

Your body changed. So did your mind.

They didn’t need to train you anymore. They just conditioned you. Trigger words, electric shocks, hallucinations—it all became routine. Every memory was wiped clean. Every hesitation was punished. You weren’t supposed to feel anything. Just kill and return.

And you did.

Over and over, you painted the world red for masters who never told you why. They didn’t call you by a name. They called you Asset. Subject. Spectre.

Until one day—you met her.

You were sixteen. Back in the Red Room, temporarily removed from your HYDRA assignments. The widows in the 14–15 age bracket needed oversight. “Instruction,” they called it. But you knew what it really was. A test.

A test for them—and a reminder for you.

Your handlers said no one would be more efficient, more ruthless, more capable than you. Two rounds of serum had ensured it. Bones reinforced. Reflexes sharpened to an unnatural edge. Pain meant nothing to you anymore. And if it did—you never showed it.

Madam B led the drill, standing beside you with her arms folded and her voice like a knife. “The enemy is smarter. Stronger. Faster. You do not overpower them. You dismantle them.” You stood still, hands folded behind your back, eyes scanning the group. Ten girls. Uniforms crisp, eyes cold. And then one was escorted in late.

Her.

Natalia Alianovna Romanova.

You knew what she was before the handler said her name. The way she walked, the way her jaw tensed, the flicker of calculation behind her gaze. You knew where she’d come from. Who she’d been with. You could smell it on her—pain, gasoline, cheap cologne, blood.

You’d lived it.

Something flickered in your chest. Recognition? Disgust? Curiosity? It passed before you could name it.

“Let’s begin,” Madam B said sharply.

You moved to the center of the room on instinct, like muscle memory. You weren’t thinking. That wasn’t your job. You were the lesson. They were the students.

The first widow came fast—predictable, linear. You sidestepped her and slammed her into the mat with a single twist of your hip. The second tried to sweep your legs. You jumped, drove your heel into her shoulder, dislocating it. Another got bold, locking her legs around your neck in a textbook chokehold. You slipped out of it in half a breath, kicked her ribs hard enough to hear the crack. An elbow hit the back of your skull. Your knee buckled from a follow-up strike, drawing a grunt from your throat. You caught her arm anyway, flipped her clean over your shoulder, and knocked the wind from her lungs with the landing.

And then she stepped forward.

Romanova.

She moved like you. Fast. Controlled. Measured. The other girls fought with desperation, with something to prove. She fought like she already knew. Every motion had intention. No waste. No fear. No need for approval.

She didn’t just want to survive the match— She wanted to understand you.

Her strikes were sharp, almost elegant. You blocked the first two. She ducked the third. A feint, a sweep—you stumbled, just half a step, just enough for her to see it.

The room watched in silence.

She came again, faster this time. You grabbed her wrist mid-swing. Her foot connected with your side. It stung—she was good.

Not enough to beat you. But good.

When you slammed her into the mat, she landed like a cat, rolled back up, and turned toward you without blinking. The others were still catching their breath. Some were still lying on the floor.

Only she stood with you.

You stared at her, breathing evenly. She stared right back.

Madam B called the drill. The other girls were dismissed. But Romanova was told to stay.

You remained too.

That was the first time you saw her. Not just a file. Not just a name. Her.

And somewhere—beneath the layers of numbness, the serum, the training, the triggers—You felt something stir.

You weren’t supposed to feel anything.

But she would become the exception.

From that day forward, she was everywhere.

In every drill, every sparring match, every strategy debrief. You weren’t sure if it was coincidence, punishment, or a new kind of test. But wherever you were, Romanova followed.

At first, it was friction. She questioned everything. Why the techniques were outdated. Why the conditioning was flawed. Why she was expected to lose.

You watched her get punished for speaking out—watched her grit her teeth through each consequence. But she never broke. She never stopped fighting.

You hated her for that. And—if you were honest—you respected her for it too.

When you sparred, it was always different with her. She didn’t try to overpower you. She tried to figure you out—where you carried your weight, how you breathed before a strike, how your body reacted to pain. She learned fast. Too fast.

You kept putting her down. But never easily. And never the same way twice.

The others grew afraid of you. Romanova never did.

One night, after a brutal joint exercise, the two of you were left in the mat room longer than expected. Bloody. Breathless. Silent.

You sat on opposite sides of the mat, both pretending the other wasn’t there. But you felt her eyes on you.

“You don’t enjoy this,” she said.

It wasn’t a question.

You didn’t look at her. “It’s not about enjoyment.”

She didn’t push. Just nodded once, as if that confirmed something for her. As if she already knew.

You didn’t speak again that night, but the silence between you felt… less like an empty space, and more like something waiting to become a conversation.

Over the months, your dynamic evolved.

You were still stronger. Still faster. Still something… other. But she challenged you in ways your handlers never anticipated.

She made you think.

During field simulations, the two of you started working together without being told to. Covering each other’s blind spots. Moving in sync. Communicating without words.

She never praised you. You never praised her. But the trust was there—in the way she never flinched when you stepped behind her, in the way you didn’t hesitate to back her up when she made the call.

Still, tension burned beneath it all.

You’d snap at her when she questioned orders. She’d challenge your blind obedience. You fought. You bled. You pushed each other to the edge and back.

And somewhere in all that chaos—You started to need her there.

Not as a rival. Not even as a comrade. But as something quieter. Closer.

You’d catch yourself watching her longer than you should. The way she wrapped her hands before a mission. The way her brow furrowed when she was working through a problem. The way she touched people like it was foreign. Like it might shatter them.

She was learning how to care.

And you—You were just learning how to feel.

One night, during winter drills in the dead cold, she caught you shivering beneath your gear. The serum made your body hard, durable—but not immune to the cold.

Without a word, she peeled off her second layer and threw it to you.

You didn’t thank her. She didn’t ask for it. But for the first time in your life, a gesture wasn’t part of a test. Or a manipulation. Or control.

It was… kindness.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Her face kept appearing in your mind. Not as a fellow operative. Not as a threat.

Just her.

And it terrified you more than anything they’d ever done to you.

Because if you let that wall crack, if you let her in—She might see who you really are beneath it all.

And worse…You might start to remember too.

But that wasn't in there plans.

You weren’t supposed to leave. But no one asked you.

It happened after a routine infiltration exercise—standard, controlled. You weren’t even armed. One moment, you were walking back through the frostbitten corridor of the Red Room barracks. The next, a needle was in your neck.

Your body dropped before your mind could react.

You woke up somewhere far colder. Darker. Underground.

No windows. No clocks. No names.

Just HYDRA again.

Apparently, you still belonged to them. The Red Room had only been borrowing you.

They said you weren’t done. That your body was strong—but your mind, soft. That there were still layers to burn out of you. So they stripped you down to bone and nerve and rebuilt you again.

More injections. More surgeries. Weights so heavy they crushed the air from your lungs. Shock conditioning to suppress emotion—any residual hesitation, memory, or attachment. They filled your bloodstream with compounds that ate away at your warmth. And they watched. Measured. Adjusted.

Until the version of you that had once flinched at kindness, that had once felt something in Romanova’s gaze—Died.

When you came back—months later, or maybe years—you weren’t the same.

The Red Room barely recognized you.

Your body was bigger now. Broader shoulders, thicker arms, deeper definitions all around. More power behind every movement. Your hands no longer trembled, not even slightly.

But the real difference was in your eyes.

Nothing in them.

Not fury. Not pain. Not longing. Just silence.

The girls whispered when they saw you. Some wouldn’t meet your eyes. Even the instructors seemed uneasy.

But Natasha—She wasn’t there to see you return.

She was gone.

You found out later.

While you were underground being gutted and stitched back together, she’d grown too.

They started giving her solo missions. Black ops. Quiet eliminations. Intel retrieval. Sabotage. She was rising, fast.

Faster than anyone expected.

You saw her name on the mission logs once. Just a line. Romanova, N.A. — Status: Completed.

You should’ve felt something.

But you didn’t.

Not until the first time you saw her again.

It was in the training compound. You had just come from the lab—still sore, your muscles heavy from the new modifications.

She entered in full gear, fresh from a mission. Blood on her knuckles. Eyes hard.

She saw you. You saw her.

Something flickered behind her expression. Shock, maybe. Recognition. But then her face hardened too.

You were taller now. Bulked. You had a presence that filled the room like a storm waiting to break.

She took a step toward you. Stopped. Looked you over like a stranger. Then said quietly, “What did they do to you?”

You blinked at her. “What they always do.”

Her jaw clenched. She looked away first.

Something cracked between you then—subtle, but deep. Like a frozen lake underfoot. Silent. Invisible. Deadly.

She was sharper now. More guarded. No longer the girl trying to figure you out.She didn’t try to speak again. Didn’t reach out.

And for the first time… you didn’t want her to Because some part of you knew: If she touched you, she’d feel it.

How gone you really were.

Ironnically, they assigned you together without warning.

No briefing room. No courtesy. Just your names on the same mission order, stamped with urgency, marked “Classified – Joint Operation.”

You stood by the helipad in the cold, snow clinging to your gloves, staring at the file in your hand. You didn’t flinch when her footsteps approached behind you—but something inside you shifted.

“Is this a joke?” Her voice was sharp. Older. It cut different now—refined, precise. She was no longer a student. She was a weapon fully realized.

You turned to her. Nothing in your expression.

“No,” you said. “It’s an order.”

She looked you over again, as if still trying to reconcile the you in her memory with the one standing in front of her. The serum-enhanced bulk. The vacant eyes. The silence.

“You look like them now,” she muttered. “Like the guards. The machines.”

You tilted your head slightly. “Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?”

She didn’t respond. Just pulled on her gloves and boarded the chopper. You followed.

Neither of you spoke for the entire flight.

The mission was straightforward: sabotage a black-market weapons trade in Serbia. Silent entry. Quiet eliminations. No civilian casualties.

Easy.

Too easy.

You moved like a ghost—silent, brutal, efficient. Taking out guards before they even knew they were dead. She followed, handling the tech, bypassing locks, placing charges. Clean. Professional. Cold.

But the silence between you roared louder than the gunfire.

At one point, you cleared a stairwell while she set a timer on the explosives. You glanced back at her—the flicker of red hair under moonlight, the tight line of her jaw.

There used to be warmth in the way she looked at you. Now, it was calculation. And something worse—disappointment.

You met her gaze. She didn’t look away this time.

“You’re not the same,” she said quietly.

“I’m better.”

“No,” she said. “You’re just… gone.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have one.

The hallway lights flickered. Footsteps above.

You both moved without another word.

After the mission—successful, of course—you were debriefed and dismissed.

But that night, in the Red Room barracks, she came to your door.

You heard the knock. You almost didn’t answer.

But you opened it.

She stepped inside like she was walking into a war zone. Her eyes scanned the room, then locked on you.

“You didn’t flinch when that civilian was caught in the blast radius.”

“They weren’t the target.”

“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “You didn’t feel anything.”

You looked at her. At the way her chest rose and fell. At the fire in her eyes.

“What do you want from me?”

She stepped closer. “I want to know if you’re still in there.”

Your throat tightened.

Then—softly, bitterly—you said, “Why? So you can mourn me properly?”

Silence.

Her hand reached up before she could stop it—just barely grazing your shoulder, hesitant. Her fingertips trembled.

You didn’t move. But you felt it.

Something broke inside you.

And you whispered, “You shouldn't touch me, Romanova. You’ll get hurt.”

She didn’t pull away. “Maybe I already am.”

You didn’t kiss. You didn’t cry. But something in that moment laid itself bare between you—too fragile to speak aloud. Too dangerous to name.

She left without another word.

And for the first time in a long time…You wanted to be seen again.

The next few missions are different.

She stops flinching when you’re too close. You start pausing before pulling the trigger. You cover her flank instinctively. She watches your back like it’s second nature.

You still don’t speak much. But the silences become softer.

One night, while tending a wound, she says, “You never told me your real name.”

You stare at the floor. “I don’t remember it.”

“Then tell me something you do remember. Something real. Something yours.”

You’re quiet for a long time.

Then, finally: “I remember… humming. I think it was my mother. Before everything else. Just humming.”

She doesn’t say anything.

She just reaches for your hand. You let her.

And that’s the moment you know—Whatever they did to you… she might be the one thing they can’t erase.

t happened late one night, long after curfew.

You couldn't sleep. Not because of nightmares—those had dulled into something quieter—but because she hadn’t returned yet.

Her mission had run over. You knew it wasn’t your concern. You told yourself it didn’t matter. But when the door finally creaked open and she stepped inside, bruised and soaked with cold rain, your heart did something you didn’t recognize.

It lurched.

You rose from your bunk without a word. Met her halfway. She tried to walk past you like always.

But this time, you reached for her wrist.

She froze.

Then her eyes met yours. And for once, there was no mask. No cold front. No assignment.

Just two ghosts standing in a borrowed room pretending they weren’t drowning.

“You okay?” you asked, voice low.

She stared at you for a long time. Then shook her head, slow.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think I forgot how to feel something and still survive.”

You didn’t speak. You just stepped closer.

She leaned her forehead against yours.

And when her hands came up to cradle your jaw—gentle, trembling—you let her. No drills. No orders. Just warmth. Just touch.

She moved her arms to your shoulders pulling you into a desperate hold. You held her back.

It was the first thing that had ever felt real.

You didn’t sleep that night. Not because of fear. Because for the first time—you didn’t want to close your eyes and miss it.

You were in the mess hall the next morning when the alarm rang.

Red lights. Sirens. Door locks snapping shut. You didn’t even have to guess.

They’d seen it.

The surveillance footage. The shared room. The closeness. The disobedience.

You were ripped from your seat. She was dragged from hers. Not allowed to speak. Not even look at each other.

They took you to separate rooms.

They didn’t ask questions. Just pain.

Electric pulses to the spine. Icy injections in your veins. A boot in your back and a handler shouting:

“You are not human. You are not lovers. You are assets. Tools. You do not belong to each other. You belong to us.”

You bit down until your teeth bled.

But they weren’t trying to break your body this time.

They were trying to break what you’d built.

It took days before they let you see each other again. Weeks before they assigned you to a new mission together.

But in the silence of your quarters one night—when they thought they’d burned the bond out of you—she turned to you and whispered:

“We can’t keep doing this.”

You didn’t answer. Not yet.

“We’re ghosts,” she said. “And maybe we always will be. But we don’t have to haunt this place.”

You watched her carefully.

She leaned in. “I have contacts. Quiet ones. People who owe me. We could make it out. Maybe not far. Maybe not long. But free. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

You looked at her.

For the first time in your life, someone was offering you a door.

And you wanted it.

You planned it. Mapped the blind spots. The shift changes. The weak points in surveillance.

But the night came… and you didn’t move.

You stood at the exit.

So did she.

Neither of you said it—but you both felt it: That pull. That tether. Not to each other—but to this.

To the bloodstained corridors. The silence. The structure. The certainty of it.

It was hell. But it was the only hell you understood.

And maybe—maybe—out there, the world would be worse. Colder. Empty.

You looked at her.

She looked at you.

And slowly, quietly… she shook her head.

“Not yet,” she said. “We’re not ready.”

You nodded.

Neither of you turned away from the exit right away.

But you didn’t step through it either.

That night, you held her again. Not in defiance, but in mourning.

Because love, in places like this, wasn’t a rebellion.

It was a wound. And you carried it like everything else they’d given you.

Deep. Quiet. Permanent.

The final mission came suddenly. Too clean. Too perfect.

Natasha was to infiltrate a U.S. intelligence outpost under the guise of a defector. Get inside, get the data, extract herself. But you’d seen too many missions. You knew the pattern. You knew the words they didn’t say.

This wasn’t an op.

It was an opportunity.

A door. A rare one.

And for the first time—you could open it for her.

You stood by the projector as the handler outlined the objective. Your face didn’t shift. You nodded when expected. Said “understood” at the appropriate moments.

But when the lights dimmed and the others filed out, you turned to her—just the two of you left in the briefing room.

You said her name—her name, not her codename.

She looked at you. Confused at first. Then slowly—terrified.

You walked closer. Pressed a small drive into her hand. The one with the real data—hers. Proof of HYDRA’s involvement. Enough to earn her a chance. Enough to buy her freedom.

“Take it,” you said, voice low. “When the window opens, you run. Don’t look back.”

She shook her head. “No—no, we said we’d go together.”

You gave a faint smile. It didn’t reach your eyes.

“I don’t exist out there.”

“You do to me.”

You swallowed hard. “That’s not enough. Not this time.”

Her hands shook.

You reached out, steadying her fingers around the drive.

“You’re better than this place,” you whispered. “You always were.”

Her eyes glistened, and your throat burned with everything you couldn’t afford to say.

You didn’t kiss her.

You just let your forehead rest against hers—one last time.

A silent goodbye wrapped in the shape of a moment.

She did exactly what you trained her to do.

She got out clean.

The data hit U.S. intelligence servers like a bomb. Names. Coordinates. Project logs. Red Room locations.

And her? She vanished into shadow.

It worked.

She lived.

You watched her defect from behind locked doors, cameras feeding you the grainy security footage of her slipping past the final perimeter. She turned once—looked back.

You knew she was thinking of you.

But she ran.

And you—You stayed.

They punished you, of course.

You’d disobeyed protocol. Leaked sensitive intel. Let an asset go.

But you were too valuable to kill.

So they hurt you instead.

They locked you away. Sedated you for weeks. Ran tests. Reconditioned you until the edges blurred again.

When they were done, they gave you a new mission.

You accepted it wordlessly.

Like always.

But something in you had shifted. Not broken—but buried. Because now, no matter how many memories they wiped, no matter how many shocks they ran through your spine…

They couldn’t take her from you.

Not where it mattered.

Natasha Romanoff didn’t waste what you gave her.

She used your sacrifice like a torch.

She lit the Red Room on fire from the inside out. Cracked it open piece by piece—its secrets, its science, its cruelty. She brought down handlers and directors. Saboteurs and scientists. Anyone who carved girls into weapons.

And when she was done with them, she turned to HYDRA.

Not all of it. Not yet. But enough to make the world tremble.

And through it all—every raid, every mission, every sleepless night—she searched for you.

Files. Photographs. Ghosts of you in surveillance clips: grainy footage of a tall figure, a shadow slipping in and out of black sites with blood on your hands.

She kept seeing you. But she never found you.

They said you were a myth. That maybe you'd died. That maybe you'd broken entirely, brainwashed past the point of no return.

But Natasha knew better.

She knew what it meant when your body flinched in the exact rhythm of danger. When your jaw ticked before a mission. When your eyes—those goddamn eyes—flicked to hers in a moment of clarity, even through pain.

You weren’t dead.

You were still in there.

Somewhere.

she pulls the footage alone.

She'd rewatch the frame by frames. Zoom in on your face.

You’ve changed.

There’s no warmth now. No hesitation.

But the way you move—the way you look at the camera right before it cuts out—it’s you.

And it’s not.

The ghost she loved.

Now a killer set loose in a world she tried to fix.

Years had continued to pass.

Until the intel finally came. It was clean. HYDRA remnants were relocating prototype tech—illegally acquired Stark-adjacent hardware. Avengers were dispatched for containment.

It should’ve been a simple in-and-out.

Until you showed up.

It begins with Sam.

He never sees it coming.

He’s airborne, covering Steve’s flank, when something clips his wing mid-flight. Not a bullet.

A blade.

You appear out of the smoke—fast, silent, brutal. A black blur against a backdrop of chaos. You hit the ground and scale the debris like a phantom. Sam goes down hard, suit sparking.

Steve calls out—but it's too late. You’re already on him.

He blocks your first strike with the shield. The second knocks the breath from his lungs. The third slams him into concrete. He tries to talk, to get through to you—

But you don’t speak.

You just fight.

And you win.

He’s unconscious before he hits the floor.

Then comes Stark.

“Who the hell—” he starts, suit flying into position.

But he doesn’t get to finish.

You use an EMP blade—short-range, custom—forged in the black budget corners of the world. You slam it into his arc reactor, right below the clavicle. The suit collapses like armor made of paper.

He stares at you from the floor, breathing heavy.

“Jesus,” Tony mutters. “Who trained you—?”

Your boot slams into his jaw. He blacks out.

The smoke clears.

And Natasha walks into the aftermath like she’s walking into a graveyard.

She sees them—Sam, unconscious. Steve bleeding. Tony barely breathing.

And then she sees you.

Standing there with your back to her, blade slick with Stark’s blood, eyes scanning the horizon for the next threat.

You don’t turn when you speak.

“I was wondering when you’d show.”

Her stomach turns. Your voice hasn’t changed.

Neither has the way it makes something in her ache.

“Stop,” she says, gun aimed at your spine. “This isn’t you.”

You finally turn.

And gods, you look calm. Too calm. Not brainwashed. Not drugged. Just still. Centered. Like the world finally makes sense to you—for all the wrong reasons.

She hesitates.

“Tell me they did this to you,” she says, desperate. “Tell me they put something in your head. I can help you.”

You shake your head. “No one put anything in my head, Natalia.”

You say her name like a knife and a kiss.

“I chose this.”

Her grip falters. “Why?”

You step closer.

“I gave you freedom. I never said I wanted it for myself.”

That hits harder than any punch.

“I’m not broken,” you go on. “I’m clear. The world you live in now? It’s naïve. It lets monsters breathe because it's scared to kill them.”

“And you’re not scared?” she whispers.

“No. I’m what comes after fear.”

Your blade raises.

Her gun doesn't move.

“I don't want to fight you,” she says.

You nod. “Then don’t.”

It’s vicious.

You move like muscle memory and instinct are the only gods you answer to.

She holds her own—barely. Blocks your knife with her forearm, kicks your knee to destabilize, sweeps your leg, only for you to flip back onto your feet like gravity’s a suggestion.

She pulls you in recklessly and you slam her against the wall.

You’ve both slowed.

Breathing ragged. Bruised. Bleeding.

She’s knocked the blade from your hand. Neither of you has the upper hand now.

And still—neither of you runs.

She stares at you, hair stuck to her face with sweat and blood. Eyes glassy. Jaw clenched.

And then, finally—she breaks.

You’re both on your knees in the rubble of the mission site.

Bruised. Bleeding. Exhausted.

Your knife is somewhere behind you. Her gun’s been kicked across the ground. There are no weapons left now—only words sharp enough to kill.

And hers cut deepest.

Her voice breaks the silence, trembling but strong enough to reach you.

“Why won’t you tell me the truth?” she pleads, eyes locking with yours, glistening. “I was young enough to believe we’d find each other again. That you wanted to.”

You say nothing.

Because if you do, something inside you might shatter.

“I waited,” she whispers, and it cracks something in your chest. “I waited a long time…”

You watch her swallow it down—those tears, that hope, that version of you she carried in her chest like a ghost.

“But I’m grown now,” she breathes, straighter spine, trembling chin. “I’m good. And I know you never planned to stay.”

She steps forward.

Just one step.

“So why can’t you just say that?”

And now it’s your turn to bleed.

You want to lie. It would be easier.

But your throat burns and the truth is louder than your silence.

“Say what, hmm?” you rasp, almost bitter. “That I love you?”

She flinches.

You press forward, voice low, shaking, every word costing you a piece of yourself.

“That I think about you every damn day? That I saw you run and told myself I’d done something good—for once. That maybe if you lived, if you became something better, then everything I did would’ve been worth it?”

You pause. Swallow. You can’t look at her.

“I just wanted to keep you someplace safe,” you whisper. “And that was never gonna be here.”

“And it was never gonna be with me. Never.”

And she stands there—tears slipping free.

But she doesn't collapse.

She burns. Quietly. The way she always has.

“So that’s it?” she asks. “I was a mission to you? Something to protect and abandon?”

“You were everything,” you say, barely above a breath.

And you mean it.

Which is why you turn and walk away.

Because staying? Would destroy the last thing you did right.

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