#saur

[rosachae]

idol | megan skiendiel x reader

⁍ song: radar - lil hero ⁍ requested: yes! thank you anon ⁍ genre: idol!megan x actor!reader. slowburn fluff, jealous megan, loser!megan ⁍ a/n: thank you for requesting this, anon! sorry for the delay in getting this out. i hope this is what you were looking for. ⁍ w.c: 17k ⁍ warnings: curt language, a little bit nsfw(?), more so just suggestive. ⁍ synopsis:

y/n, an up-and-coming actor in korea, casually let slip on a variety show that she might have the *tiniest* crush on a particular girl group member, megan skiendiel. lucky for her, she was already on megan's radar.

“it was only a matter of time before you did something to make your pr team cry,” yunjin said, her voice thick with amusement as she leaned forward in her chair. “but god, y/n. i didn’t think you had it in you to be that bold.”

you didn’t bother to look at her. instead, you kept your focus on the half-empty iced americano in your hands, the straw poking at the lid like it had something to say too. “yeah yeah,” you muttered, tone dry. “keep it coming. get it all out.”

yunjin’s laughter filled the small recording studio, bouncing off the walls like an echo that didn’t know when to quit.

the first time you met her, you were rushing to a meeting at the hybe building, five minutes late and in no mood to reschedule. the elevator was almost closed when a hand slipped between the panels, smooth and effortless, like it was something out of a k-drama. yunjin stepped in a moment later, casual as anything, earbuds in, hoodie half-zipped, eyes flicking toward you.

she didn’t register who you were right away. not until she caught the outline of your face in the elevator mirror and did the most obvious quadruple take known to man. she grinned like she’d just won a bet. you raised an eyebrow. the doors shut.

your name had been climbing headlines at the time, especially after that marvel debut. you were still adjusting to the spotlight, to the way people started speaking about you like you were a headline first and a human being second. they called you the face of the next generation, a once-in-a-decade talent. you still weren’t sure what to do with that.

to her credit, yunjin didn’t immediately spiral. she told you later she’d nearly recited your entire filmography then and there but had somehow restrained herself. instead, she said, “you’re taller than i thought,” with a sort of breezy charm that made you laugh before you could stop yourself.

the novelty wore off quickly. by your third hangout, she was yelling at her flat iron over facetime and blaming you for jinxing her hair before mcountdown. the pedestal had crumbled, and in its place was something much better.

you adored her, truly. but right now? right now you wanted to strangle her.

“you do realize the internet’s having a meltdown, right?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder while fiddling with the dials on the studio mixer. “megan’s stans are going full detective mode. they’re gonna find the exact thread count of your bedsheets if you’re not careful.”

of course you knew. how could you not?

‎ 

‎it had all started at weekly idol. you and your costar, eunwoo, were the guests that day. minhyuk and hyeongjun were hosting. bright-eyed, energetic, and way too charismatic for nine in the morning. the moment you stepped on set, they bowed with exaggerated reverence and gasped like they’d seen ghosts.

“wow… everyone, protect the cameras,” minhyuk said, turning to the staff with mock urgency. “no way this equipment survives the visuals of both our guests at once.”

you laughed, cheeks heating despite yourself. the nerves hadn’t gone away even after a hundred interviews. your knee had bounced nonstop in the makeup chair. your hands wouldn’t sit still in your lap. you didn’t know why you were this on edge. it wasn’t like this was your first time.

eunwoo had noticed. he always noticed. he didn’t say much, but before your cue to enter, he gave you a quiet nod, a calm smile. just enough to settle the buzz in your chest.

the shoot went smoothly. laughter came easy. there was a moment you and eunwoo broke into an absurd duet of the show’s theme song, something so horrifically off-key that it ended up trending for twelve hours. and yet, what really caught fire was that one particular question.

“…so, y/n,” hyeongjun had said, reading off a laminated card with all the flair of a seasoned variety host. “you’ve caught the eye of the entire country. but has anyone caught your eye?”

you paused. of course you did. your manager’s disapproving face flashed through your brain like a warning siren, but you could already feel the words rising. the answer had been sitting with you for months now, quiet and patient.

you thought of coachella. of watching a failed backflip send some poor guy crashing to the ground mid-performance, which made you laugh for far too long. and how somehow, down that spiral of linked videos and fuzzy 420p livestreams, you ended up watching three girls play roblox with him. that’s when you saw her. megan skiendiel. orange wig, infectious laugh, that strange but graceful way she moved that made you look twice.

she was stunning. but it wasn’t just that. it was the way she felt. vibrant. sincere. like she wasn’t trying to be anyone but herself.

you could still remember the way your cheeks felt warm when you finally answered.

“uh, well, i don’t usually think about stuff like that,” you said carefully, then smiled despite yourself. “but i think katseye’s megan is absolutely gorgeous. i mean, i’d love to meet her. she seems fun. like the kind of person you’d want to be friends with.”

innocent enough. 

‎ 

or so you thought.

now, here you were, spinning idly on a swivel chair in yunjin’s recording booth, trying not to meet her smug eyes.

“you should’ve said nothing,” she said, clearly enjoying herself. “or lied. something. anything. instead, you went full disney channel crush monologue.”

“i thought it was harmless,” you argued, voice climbing in pitch. “i didn’t think the entire internet would spiral into an fbi task force over a throwaway comment. seriously, doesn’t anyone have jobs?”

“you’re y/n,” yunjin shot back, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “you know people hang onto your words like they’re stock tips. you practically lit a flare above her name with that answer.”

“i didn’t even say anything that bad! i called her pretty and said she seemed fun. i said the same thing about you last week on dex’s fridge.”

“right, but you didn’t look like you were about to pass out from heart palpitations when you said it about me. you didn’t blush. you didn’t pause like you were imagining your wedding vows. babe, you looked like you were one blink away from writing her poetry.”

“you’re being so dramatic.”

“am i?” she raised an eyebrow. “because you may as well have held a ‘simp’ sign and worn a megan skiendiel stan shirt. even sungchan has more chill than that. sungchan, y/n.”

you groaned at the mention of your tall, hopelessly clumsy mutual. “low blow.”

“i’m just saying.” she shrugged, biting back a grin. “even you know i’m right.”

and unfortunately, you kind of did.

“okay, but for real,” yunjin said, dragging her chair over with a squeak that made you wince. she rested her elbows on her knees, chin in her hands, looking at you like she was about to stage an intervention. “what are you gonna do if she actually reaches out?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, say she dms you. or tags you in some story. or, i don’t know, shows up at your next premiere with a bouquet of roses and a sign that says ‘hi crush.’ what then?” she asked. “you gonna freak out and melt into the floor? you gonna invite her to karaoke and try to play it cool while secretly dying inside?”

you turned away and took a long, pointed sip of your coffee.

“no, but seriously,” she pressed, clearly not letting it go. “you like her, don’t you?”

you snorted. “i’ve never even met her.”

“not what i asked.”

you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. “i don’t know. maybe.”

yunjin tilted her head. “that’s a yes.”

“it’s not a yes,” you said, but your voice was too quiet to sound convincing. “i just think she’s… interesting.”

“gorgeous, fun, interesting,” she ticked off on her fingers. “mmhmm. yeah. sounds like someone’s caught feelings off vibes and roblox streams alone. that’s powerful.”

you groaned again and rolled your eyes, but the sound that left your throat was somewhere between embarrassment and reluctant laughter. “you make it sound so unhinged.”

“it is unhinged,” she said without missing a beat. “but it’s also kind of cute. in a really stupid, romcom kind of way. you, falling for a girl you’ve never met because she made you laugh through a pixelated camera while dressed like a traffic cone.”

you narrowed your eyes. “it was a very good orange wig.”

“never said it wasn’t,” she said with a shrug. “you’re just proving my point.”

you exhaled slowly, running a hand down your face. “look, i didn’t mean for any of this to happen. i just answered the question honestly. i wasn’t trying to stir up some whole thing.”

“but you did,” she said gently. ”and maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world.”

you looked at her, unsure how to respond.

“she could be into it,” yunjin said, her voice lighter again. “she should be into it. if i was her, i’d be clearing my schedule and calling my stylist for a camera-ready fit. do you even know how many people would kill to be publicly flirted with by you?”

“i wasn’t flirting.”

“girl, you might as well have asked for her ring size.”

you groaned again and flopped forward, burying your face in your arms as yunjin broke into another fit of laughter. somewhere beneath the teasing and the noise, though, was something quieter. something you didn’t say out loud.

you kind of hoped she did reach out.

even just to say hi.

__

the dorm was quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of pipes behind the walls. manhua pages rustled faintly in the room next door, probably sophia flipping through her latest haul before bed, but otherwise the place had settled into a kind of hush that only came after midnight. the rest of the girls had turned in after rehearsals, legs sore, voices hoarse, the kind of tired that sank into the bones. megan had stayed behind in the living room, half-sprawled across the floor with a pillow hugged to her chest and a cold bottle of pocari pressed under her jaw.

she was still in her practice clothes, oversized hoodie and bike shorts, skin sticky with the last remnants of sweat she hadn’t bothered to wipe off properly. her hair was clipped up haphazardly, strands falling into her face as she stared down at her phone, blue light painting her features in a soft, ghostly glow.

she wasn’t really expecting anything when she opened twitter. just a quick scroll before bed, a way to shut her brain off after a day of hitting choreography until her ankles burned. but then she saw the video. saw her name. and froze.

“Y/N CONFIRMS SHE’S A FAN OF KATSEYE’S MEGAN 🫢🫢🫢”

she clicked it.

the clip wasn’t long. maybe thirty seconds, a little more. it was some variety show. she recognized eunwoo immediately, bright-eyed and relaxed in the way only he ever seemed to be on camera. y/n sat beside him, posture a little straighter than usual, nerves twitching under the surface despite the easy smile on her face.

megan watched the moment unfold. the way the question was asked. the pause. the sheepish smile. 

“i think katseye’s megan is absolutely gorgeous.”

the words shouldn’t have done anything. people said things like that all the time. fans. hosts. stylists brushing out her hair before a shoot. it wasn’t new. but the way y/n said it, quiet, thoughtful, almost like she was holding back something bigger… it sat heavy in megan’s chest as the clip ended and replayed itself automatically.

she watched it again. and then a third time.

her notifications were already a mess. katseye’s name trending alongside y/n’s, clips being reposted with fan captions and edits, screenshots of the moment paired with captions like “megan better WAKE UP” and “y/n join the line babe”. she should’ve laughed. part of her did. but underneath it, something shifted. something warm and unsure and a little bit dizzy.

y/n had been on her radar for a while, if she was being honest. megan wasn’t the type to crush easily, but there was something about her. it started with a film. some sci-fi action thing that megan only half paid attention to until y/n showed up on screen and suddenly everything was more interesting. after that, it was interviews. behind the scenes clips. a fan edit that popped up on her for you page one morning and made her miss a whole subway stop because she got too caught up in it.

and now this.

megan opened y/n’s instagram without really thinking. her thumb hovered over the follow button. she stared at it for a long second, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

she didn’t press it.

not yet.

instead, she set her phone down on the floor beside her and let her eyes drift to the ceiling. her heart was beating faster than it had any right to.

“gorgeous,” she murmured under her breath, voice barely audible. “fun. wants to be friends.”

maybe she could work with that.

‎ 

sleep didn’t come easy to her that night.  before she knew it, the night shifted to morning and she had to get up. the studio called her name, as it seemed to relentlessly the past month and some change. 

sophia, daniela, and yoonchae were already mid-run-through when megan walked into the practice room, the tail end of the “gnarly” chorus echoing faintly from the speakers. sophia’s voice cut clean through the track, daniela’s movements sharp and deliberate. yoonchae was quiet, as usual, but every step she made was crisp, clockwork precise.

megan had barely stepped into the center of the room when she heard it.

“so.” lara didn’t even look up from where she was sitting, stretching her legs out and leaning back on her palms. “anything you wanna share with the class?”

megan blinked. “what?”

manon turned her head slowly from where she was sitting several notches away, a teasing gleam in her eyes. she answers as if it’s obvious. honestly, it really was. “y/n.”

megan tensed immediately. “oh god.”

“yup,” lara said, like she had been waiting all morning for this. “you’ve been blowing up on stan twitter since seven a.m. and don’t think we didn’t notice how fast you saved that clip on the shared account”

“i didn’t save it,” megan muttered, grabbing her water bottle a little too fast. “i just… happened to see it. once.”

“megan,” manon said, eyes narrowing just slightly. “you’ve been quiet all morning. the last time you shut the fuck up was when you saw scarlett johanson do the splits in that one captain america movie. don’t lie to us.”

lara laughed under her breath. “she said you were gorgeous, wanted to be friends. oh, how romantic. i bet you probably watched it ten times over.”

“i did not,” megan said, practically choking on her water. “i just didn’t expect it, okay? i wasn’t mentally prepared.”

“mentally prepared for what?” manon said, raising a brow. “a compliment? you’ve been in magazines. people compliment you all the time.”

“not her,” megan said, before immediately realizing what she’d just admitted out loud. she froze. “i mean. not like. you know. never mind.”

lara clapped once, too loud. “that’s it. someone get her phone. we’re crafting a dm.”

“absolutely not,” megan said, panic already bubbling in her chest. “i’ll die.”

“what are you gonna do?” manon said. “wait until she magically appears in the dorms living room?”

megan buried her face in her hoodie. “maybe.”

“this is tragic,” lara said. “you have the golden opportunity of a lifetime and you’re out here acting like she’s a tax bill.”

“can we please change the subject,” megan mumbled, voice muffled in fabric.

“nope,” manon said, standing up and walking towards her. “group vote says you’re dming her.”

lara held out a hand. “seconded.”

from across the room, daniela raised a hand mid-step. “thirded.”

megan didn’t even look up. “yoonchae. please. save me.”

yoonchae just gave a small shrug, barely breaking from the choreo. megan groaned into her sleeve.

yep. she was on her own. not even sophia batted an eyelash, the filippinas glossy lips tilting up into a small grin where she was by the mirrors. 

megan sat down cross-legged on the floor with her phone clutched in both hands like it might explode. her back was hunched, eyes glued to the screen, and the expression on her face hovered somewhere between total focus and a full-blown identity crisis.

“you haven’t even opened instagram yet,” manon pointed out, sitting behind her and peering over her shoulder.

“i’m getting to it,” megan muttered.

lara flopped down next to her with a dramatic sigh. “this is painful to watch. if you go any slower, we’ll be here until yoonchae turns twenty-seven.”

megan unlocked her phone with a resigned swipe. “what do i even say? like. what do people say when they’re trying not to sound weird?”

lara took a breath. “okay. let’s start simple. ‘hi y/n, thanks for saying i’m pretty on tv—”

“i’m not saying that.”

“‘you have great taste in women’—”

“lara.”

“‘let’s be friends (or more if you’re free saturday night)’—”

megan covered her face with both hands. “why did i think listening to you was a good idea.”

manon leaned her chin on megan’s shoulder. “fine. try this. ‘hi, this is super random but i saw the clip from weekly idol and just wanted to say thank you. that was really sweet of you. hope we can meet someday!’ short, polite, friendly. not scary.”

megan peeked at her. “…that’s not terrible.”

lara squinted. “it’s boring.”

“it’s safe,” manon said, grabbing megan’s phone and typing it out with quick thumbs. “she’s not asking her to elope, she’s just acknowledging it.”

megan took the phone back and read it over like it was a contract. “…what if she doesn’t reply?”

“then you delete your account and we pretend this never happened,” lara said. “easy.”

“lara,” manon sighed.

megan stared at the message for a long moment. her thumb hovered. then tapped. then hovered again.

“just hit send,” daniela called from across the room, not even looking up from her stretching. “we can feel your hesitation from over here.”

“seriously,” sophia added, “you’re vibrating.”

megan sucked in a breath through her teeth. and then, with her eyes closed and her stomach in her shoes, she hit send.

silence.

lara let out the longest, slowest gasp. “it’s done.”

manon patted her back. “you’re very brave.”

megan immediately flopped backward onto the floor like she’d just run a marathon. “i need to lie here forever. let me perish in peace.”

lara just grinned and offered her a thumbs up. “she’s gonna love it.”

megan covered her eyes. “i hate everything.”

never in a million years would she have expected that one simple action to change everything. 

__

the cafe was warm in that familiar, lived-in kind of way. wood-paneled walls framed by climbing ivy, soft light filtering through dusty windows, and the scent of espresso baked into the air like it had nowhere else to go. outside, a quiet drizzle tapped at the glass, slow and steady, painting the sidewalk in watercolor streaks. inside, the soft clatter of dishes and hum of conversation made everything feel just far enough from the noise of your schedule to breathe.

you were at a small table near the back, the kind that rocked a little if you leaned on it wrong. yunjin sat across from you, one leg thrown over the other, straw bent at an aggressive angle in her lemonade. beside her, sungchan had his jacket slung over his chair and a look of mild betrayal on his face as he stared down at the salad yunjin had goaded him into ordering.

“i’m just saying,” she said, picking a piece of arugula off his plate like it belonged to her, “you can’t order a burger four days in a row and then complain about your skin breaking out.”

“it’s called balance,” sungchan muttered, dragging his fork through the greens with the resigned air of someone deeply offended by roughage. “i had a banana this morning.”

“oh wow,” she deadpanned. “one whole banana. call the olympic committee, this man is the pinnacle of health.”

he gave her a flat look. “didn’t you eat instant tteokbokki at two in the morning and then text me about your stomach cramps like it was my fault?”

“okay, first of all, you’re my emotional support contact when i make poor life choices. second of all, i still looked hot while doing it.”

you blinked slowly, chin in your hand, eyes fixed on the screen of your phone where the message sat.

hi, this is super random but i saw the clip from weekly idol and just wanted to say thank you. that was really sweet of you. hope we can meet someday!

megan had sent it two nights ago. you’d seen it the moment it came in, heart tripping over itself in the dark quiet of your bedroom. you didn’t answer. not right away. you told yourself you were busy, that you had scripts to review, meetings lined up. you told yourself it wasn’t ghosting if you intended to respond eventually.

but even now, hours and hours later, you were still here. still staring. still unsure what to say.

you had never been this nervous to talk to someone before.

“okay, this is depressing,” yunjin said, snapping her fingers in your direction. “hey. eyes up. you look like someone just broke up with you via powerPoint.”

sungchan leaned in a little, squinting at you. “are you sick? you’re weirdly quiet. usually you’d be insulting us by now.”

“i’m not sick,” you said quickly, locking your phone and setting it face down on the table. “just… thinking.”

“thinking about what?” yunjin asked, tone tilting toward nosy in that way only close friends could get away with.

you hesitated.

“oh my god,” she gasped. “you’re in love.”

“i’m not in love,” you said, too fast, which only made sungchan snort into his water.

“that’s what people say right before they confess they’re in love,” he said, dabbing at his chin with a napkin like he hadn’t just inhaled half a slice of garlic bread. “who is it?”

“nobody,” you said.

yunjin leaned forward with the exact expression of someone who knew they were right. “it’s megan, isn’t it?”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t have to. the look on your face gave you away.

sungchan let out a low whistle. “oh. that megan. the ‘gorgeous, fun, would love to be friends’ megan.”

you groaned, resting your forehead on your palm. “do you all memorize everything i say or are you just stalking my interviews for sport?”

“yes,” they said at the same time.

“okay but seriously,” yunjin said, nudging your phone with one perfectly manicured finger. “she messaged you, right?”

you nodded.

“and you didn’t reply because…?”

you sighed. “i don’t know. because it’s her. because i don’t want to mess it up. because what if she’s just being nice and this whole thing is way more casual to her than it is to me?”

sungchan tilted his head. “you mean what if she’s cool and normal and not secretly writing fanfiction about you the way you’re doing about her?”

yunjin grinned. “do you want us to help you write back? or are you planning to keep having an existential crisis over a very cute dm?”

you glanced at the screen again. your reflection looked back at you in the black glass, soft and unsure.

“i’ll write back,” you said quietly.

“good,” yunjin said, leaning back in her chair with a pleased expression. “because if you didn’t, i was gonna pretend to be you and do it myself.”

“you’re terrifying,” sungchan said, which she accepted as a compliment.

you looked back at the message one more time. your heart was still beating a little too fast, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. maybe it meant you actually cared. that it mattered.

you took a breath. opened the keyboard.

and started to type.

your fingers hovered for a second too long over the keyboard. the blinking cursor stared back at you like it knew you were stalling. you could feel yunjin’s eyes on you, sharp and expectant, like she might actually snatch the phone from your hands if you hesitated any longer. sungchan, mercifully, had gone back to his salad, occasionally picking at it like it was an alien lifeform.

hi megan! sorry for the slow reply, things have been a little hectic lately. i saw your message and honestly it kind of made my whole week lol. thank you for reaching out :)

you paused. read it again. deleted the smiley. retyped it. added a second sentence.

i’d really love to meet too if you’re ever free.

then you stared at it some more.

“this is painful,” yunjin muttered. “just hit send. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“she leaves me on read and i spontaneously combust from shame,” you said flatly.

“dramatic,” sungchan mumbled, chewing like a cow. “but valid.”

“she won’t leave you on read,” yunjin said, more gently this time. “she messaged you first. that counts for something.”

you looked down at the screen one last time. your thumb hovered over the send button. your stomach turned a slow, clumsy flip. and then, before you could second guess yourself again, you pressed it.

message sent.

you didn’t breathe for a full five seconds.

“there,” yunjin said, smug now. “look at you. being brave.”

“i already regret this,” you mumbled, locking your phone again and pushing it away like it might explode.

“do you want a cookie?” sungchan asked, peering at the dessert menu. “i feel like this moment deserves a cookie.”

you blinked at him. “why do you always want to eat after stressful emotional events?”

“because i am a man of simple needs,” he said, deadpan. “and also because cookies are comforting.”

“he’s not wrong,” yunjin said, flagging down the waiter with the kind of unearned confidence that came from growing up with three older siblings and no shame. except, she didn’t. “three chocolate chip, please. and a round of iced americanos. she’s going to need the caffeine.”

you sank back into your seat, still feeling the rush of adrenaline buzzing under your skin. outside, the rain had picked up a little, streaking the windows like silver threads. inside, everything smelled like sugar and espresso and something warm baking in the oven.

you didn’t know if megan would reply. maybe she’d be busy. maybe she’d forget. but for now, you’d done the hardest part.

you’d answered, and that felt like enough for today.

that was, at least, until your phone chimed.

the sound sliced through the moment like a needle popping a balloon. all three of you froze. your eyes shot to the screen where the notification banner was still lingering like a ghost.

megan skiendiel: that sounds perfect :) when are you free?

yunjin let out an actual gasp, loud and dramatic enough to make the table behind you glance over. sungchan dropped his fork.

“no way,” yunjin hissed, already leaning across the table to see. “no actual way. she replied that fast? is she a robot?”

you didn’t say anything. you just stared. your heart had lodged itself somewhere in your throat, beating so hard it made your ears ring. megan had replied. not just replied but enthusiastically. and with a smiley. the exact one you had almost deleted from your own message.

“hello?” sungchan waved a hand in front of your face. “earth to y/n. what did she say? is it something scandalous? are we finally getting to live vicariously through your love life?”

you shoved your phone toward them without speaking.

yunjin read the message out loud like it was a line from a sacred text. “‘that sounds perfect. when are you free.’” then she looked up at you with her mouth already forming a wicked grin. “she wants to hang out. like, actually hang out. she’s asking you out.”

“not asking me out,” you said quickly, the heat creeping up the back of your neck. “just… asking when i’m free.”

“same thing,” sungchan said, picking his fork back up and pointing it at you like it was a weapon. “in celebrity speak that is basically a confession of love. i’ve seen the charts.”

“you made those charts,” you reminded him.

“and they’re scientifically sound.”

“okay but seriously,” yunjin cut in, phone still in hand, “when are you free? do you have a day off coming up?”

you blinked, trying to force your brain back into scheduling mode. “uh… friday afternoon? maybe?”

“perfect,” she said, already typing something. “tell her friday. tell her you’re free after lunch. keep it casual. breezy. like you’re not obsessively analyzing every possible outcome of this conversation.”

you shot her a look. “i am obsessively analyzing every possible outcome of this conversation.”

“which is why you need us,” sungchan said with his mouth full of cookie. “we’re here to keep you from imploding.”

your phone buzzed again.

megan skiendiel: i’m free friday after seven. wanna grab coffee? i can send you a spot i like

you didn’t even get a chance to reply before yunjin squealed.

sungchan raised both hands to the sky. “oh my god. it’s happening. it’s actually happening.”

you stared at the message, barely breathing, heart thudding like a drum inside your chest.

coffee. with megan.

you were either about to make a new friend or absolutely ruin your entire life trying.

weirdly… you couldn’t wait to find out which.

__

friday showed up before you were ready for it.

“i feel like a dad on prom night,” sungchan said, flopped across your couch like a man waiting for judgment day. he hugged a pillow to his stomach like it might shield him from the chaos. “except hotter. and younger. and not emotionally repressed.

“you’re eating chips with your shirt inside out,”chaewon deadpanned, looking sungchan up and down judgmentally.. “you look like a walking identity crisis.”  

then she turned, peering around the corner into your bedroom.

“y/n, i can’t believe you’re finally going on a date. talk about a breakthrough.”

yunjin sat cross legged on the floor, scrolling through her phone like she wasn’t the one who casually mentioned your date in front of everyone. the very second chaewon heard, she practically chomped at the bit, begging yunjin to bring her along to watch it all unfold. to say your love life was a spectacle among your friends would be an understatement.

“for the record,” you called from your room, still getting ready, “i said no to bringing chaewon.”

“for the record,” chaewon shouted back, “we overruled you. this is a democracy.”

“it’s so not.”

you stepped out, halfway dressed, holding up two completely different tops.

“black or white?”

“ooh,” yunjin said, squinting like she was inspecting a rare museum artifact. “black is hot. white is sweet. depends on the vibe you’re going for.”

“the vibe is ‘i want to look cute but not like i tried too hard because if i think about this too long i will throw myself into traffic’.”

“black,” chaewon and sungchan said in unison.

you sighed and nodded, disappearing back into the room. the air buzzed with the sound of sungchan crunching loudly and chaewon whispering to yunjin like they were spies on a mission.

“lets make a bet. ten dollars says she has a breakdown before she even leaves the house.” chaewon whispered.

“twenty says she embarrasses herself throwing up in megan’s car.” yunjin whispered back.

“guys,” you said, poking your head out again. “i can hear you.”

“we know,” they all said at the same time.

your phone dinged again.

megan skiendiel: on my way. i’ll be at your door in a minute. also, did you know your bellhop likes our music? he almost fainted when he let me up lol

you stared at the message for two full seconds before the others caught the change in your face like wolves spotting weakness. you barely had time to blink before the room exploded.

“oh my god,” sungchan shot up from the couch like someone yelled ‘fire!’. the chip bag in his hands crinkled louder than a car alarm. “was that her? is she outside? do we hide? do we have a code word if things go sideways?”

“wait, she’s coming up here?” chaewon gasped, already rising with a dramatic flair. “this place is a disaster zone!”

“i cleaned for you people,” you hissed, throwing a pointed look at the water bottles on the coffee table and the lone sock draped suspiciously over the lamp.

“yeah, and we immediately undid all of it,” yunjin said, waving a hand at the chaos like it was a museum exhibit. “you’re welcome.”

sungchan grabbed his phone, replacing the cushion he clutched. “this is it. our little baby’s first date.”

“shut up,” you muttered, cheeks heating like you’d just been called out in front of the world. “and put that damn phone down. if i see you take even one photo, i’ll beat your ass. besides, it’s not a date.”

three pairs of eyes locked onto you in unison.

“coffee with the girl you’ve been thinking about nonstop for two weeks,” chaewon said, crossing her arms with the confidence of a daytime talk show host.

“wearing the ‘hot top’, nervous enough to sweat through your socks,” yunjin added, giving you an appraising look.

“with three unpaid emotional support staff waiting at home,” sungchan finished, voice thick with mock solemnity.

your gaze snapped back and forth between the three of them, and you cringed inwardly. okay, they were right. this was definitely a date.

then, knock knock knock.

you froze for a second, heart thudding so loud you were sure they could hear it in the next room. you opened the door, and there she was.

megan stood on the other side like a vision in the hallway light, hair catching the glow just right, a smile that was equal parts warm and mischievous.

behind you, the trio froze mid-move like they’d just been caught doing something they definitely shouldn’t. they exchanged shiteating grins that barely hid how badly they were eavesdropping. yunjin quickly pulled out her phone like she was suddenly very interested in something, but her eyes kept darting toward the door. chaewon leaned against the wall, looking way too relaxed for someone who was clearly dying to say something, and sungchan sprawled on the couch with the kind of lazy cool that screamed i’m totally innocent. when megan’s eyes flicked over to them, they all waved with big, overly casual smiles like innocent bystanders who just happened to be hanging out, except no one was buying it.

but then megan’s eyes locked onto yours and suddenly everything else around you faded into the background. your breath hitched without warning and your brain scrambled like it was trying to process a beautiful glitch in reality.

you’d only ever seen her through a screen before. live streams where she smiled like the sun was just for her, short clips where she moved with effortless grace, and that one quick instagram deep dive you’d done when she messaged you. but now, here she was in real life, and she was something else entirely.

her skin caught the soft light of your penthouse, glowing like it had its own quiet radiance. her eyes were bigger and deeper than you expected, dark and shimmering like they held a secret you wanted to know. the way her hair fell in loose waves around her face softened her sharp cheekbones and made her look both fierce and kind at the same time.

she wasn’t just pretty. she was the kind of stunning that made you forget words and wish you could rewind the moment just to stare a little longer. standing there, frozen with your mouth slightly open, you realized this was the first time you were seeing her. not a filtered version, not a quick snapshot. but the real her. and it was breathtaking.

“hi,” megan said, and the word came out with a lopsided grin that cracked through the tension in your chest like sunlight through a fogged-up window. her voice was warm, lilting, a little too casual for someone who had just walked in looking like a daydream in denim baggy jeans and a bomber jacket. she rocked slightly on her heels and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, like she was fighting the urge to do a small nervous dance.

“hi,” you replied, except it sounded more like a squeak than anything human. your throat betrayed you. of course it did.

then her eyes flicked over your shoulder, and that grin stretched even wider.

“hey guys!” she waved, cheerful like she’d just walked into a party of old friends instead of three people very poorly pretending to mind their own business. “love the casual surveillance vibe you’ve got going on in here.”

“we’re chill,” sungchan said, lounging so awkwardly on the couch he almost slid off it. 

“so chill,” chaewon added, nodding solemnly from her place at the wall, where she’d become one with a houseplant.

“this is how we always sit,” yunjin said, phone upside down in her hand, gaze glued directly to megan’s face. “completely normal. zero eavesdropping. you can’t prove otherwise.”

megan let out a laugh, scrunching her nose as she looked back at you. “your friends are amazing.”

“they’re something,” you muttered, grabbing your bag before your legs could decide to walk without you.

“so,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck and bouncing slightly on her toes. “you ready? or do you need a few more minutes to, like, peel them off the furniture?”

you gave a quiet laugh, trying not to show that your hands were already clammy. “nope. ready.”

megan smiled again. softer this time. like she was seeing you for real. “cool. let’s go, then.”

and with that, you stepped out into whatever this was going to be, your heart doing cartwheels the entire way.

‎ 

truthfully, megan’s car wasn’t what you’d expected. some part of you, the part still convinced the universe had a twisted sense of humor, had pictured something absurd. maybe a crop duster or even the rusty tow truck from cars. something loud. chaotic. entirely un-date-like. instead, it was a sleek black suv. understated but sharp, just like her.

from the passenger seat, you couldn’t help sneaking glances. megan’s focus was fixed on the road, her jaw tense, her hands gripping the wheel like she was bracing for impact.

“you look nervous,” you said, a little too gently.

“o-oh, well. you know.” her voice cracked slightly as she coughed into her shoulder, eyes flicking toward you before immediately darting back to the windshield. she gave you a crooked grin, brief and almost sheepish. “i am. honestly, i feel like i’m going to vomit.”

you laughed before you could help it. light, surprised. “vomit? that’s dramatic.”

“i mean, maybe,” she said, her eyes narrowing playfully for half a second before softening again. “it’s just… i didn’t expect to actually be here. with you. not in a bad way. in a surreal way.”

you felt the flush creep across your cheeks before you even registered it, a warmth that pooled somewhere in your chest. still, you tilted your head toward her, teasing. “i can’t tell if you mean that as a compliment or not.”

megan practically panicked. “no! no, no no, not at all. god, please, that’s the silliest thing i’ve ever heard.” her words came out too fast, tripping over themselves. she shook her head like it would help untangle the knot in her thoughts. “i’m just nervous, okay? i keep overthinking it. like, what if i say something dumb, or do something weird, or—”

her voice dropped slightly, and she added, almost under her breath, “you’re so pretty i can’t think straight.”

then she froze, eyes widening as if realizing she’d said it out loud. her face goes red, a grimace pulling across her lips. she lifts a hand off the wheel to gently facepalm herself, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “please ignore me. i’m begging,”

you could only watch. you don’t know when the fond grin crossed your lips. when your heart skipped a beat, when her endearing clumsiness had you relaxing in your seat. perhaps knowing that she was just as, if not more, nervous as you made you feel relieved. after a beat, you laughed. soft. her eyes lit up as she glanced at you from her peripheral, the short noise drawing her from her thoughts.

“you’re fine,” you said, quiet but real. “i’ve been looking forward to tonight too.”

“really?”

“yeah. do you think i’d let my friends invade my house all week just for fun? they’ve been insufferable, harassing me all week. i guess i maybe haven’t made it all that secret that i’ve been interested in you for a while.” then you shake your head. “interested in meeting, that is.”

this time it was megan’s turn to crack a stupid grin.

whatever nerves you felt immediately disappeared the longer you talked to each other. truth be told, you were worried whether you’d get along as well as you hoped you would. part of you worried that once you saw each other, it’d be awkward. quiet. instead megan somehow managed to fill the silence with conversation. she asked about your family, about your day, about your friends. in turn you asked about hers.

she laughed at something you said. not even something that funny, really, just a small comment about the gas station snacks you liked. but the way she laughed, like she meant it, like she wasn’t just being polite, made your chest feel lighter. her voice filled the car, soft but certain, and the road hummed under the tires like it was part of the conversation.

you glanced over at her. she was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gear shift. her thumb tapped along to the music playing low through the speakers. some indie band neither of you had heard before but had both agreed sounded “pretty good.” it was easy. easier than you expected.

you didn’t have to think too hard before speaking. there was no second guessing. no awkward pauses that made you reach for your phone or pretend to check the map. she asked about the book in your bag and you told her it was something you started three times but never finished. she admitted she did that too, more often than she’d like to admit. you both laughed again.

the sky outside started to shift, the blue softening into a hazy gold. you weren’t sure how long you’d been driving, only that time felt different in the car with her. stretched out. slowed down. kinder.

it didn’t take long for her to park outside a cafe, but neither of you moved to get out. instead, you agreed to order to go. that’s how you ended up here. still in her car, windows slightly cracked, the warm scent of coffee filling the space between you. your drink sat snug in the cupholder, hands curled around it for warmth, and a half-eaten bagel rested in your lap. just outside the windshield, the lights of seoul shimmered across the han river, soft and golden against the night.

she didn’t seem in any rush to leave, and neither were you.

after a long sip of coffee, the next question came out without much thought.

“how long are you in korea for this time?”

“another week, give or take,” she said, eyes flicking to the skyline, like she was already counting down.

“do you miss home?”

“i do. yeah. i miss my car, mostly. it’s my baby. a bmw m3.”

you looked at her, eyebrows raised. “whoever handed you the keys to a sports car must have had a serious lapse in judgment. you drive this suv like you’ve got a personal vendetta against the speed limit.”

she let out a laugh, head tipping back slightly. “what can i say? i like to go fast.”

“sure. until we’re airborne.”

“oh, come on,” she grinned. “you weren’t complaining when you were riding shotgun, all cozy and content, full-on passenger princess mode.”

you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “i was holding onto the door for dear life.”

“you were vibing,” she said.

“i was surviving,” you shot back, but it was playful, light.

the silence that followed wasn’t awkward. it was the kind that settled easy between two people who’d already found a rhythm.

megan reached for her own cup, nearly knocking over the paper bag between you in the process. the bagel inside gave a sad little flop onto the console. she froze.

“whoops. that was... not smooth.”

you laughed, nudging the bag gently back toward her. “you’re a menace behind the wheel and a danger to pastries. noted.”

she gave you a sheepish smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “yeah, i’m really killing it tonight, huh?”

“actually,” you said, voice a little softer, “i’ve had a really nice time.”

she blinked at you, surprised. “yeah?”

you nodded, looking out toward the river before meeting her eyes again. “i was kinda nervous. not because of you, just... sometimes people are different in person. it doesn’t always click.”

megan was quiet for a second, then gave a small, crooked smile. “i was worried about that too. i overthink everything. i even tried to pick a good playlist just in case the conversation died and we needed... filler noise or something.”

you laughed. “is that why i’ve been listening to three hours of sad indie girls?”

“they’re emotionally articulate,” she said, pretending to be offended, but her grin gave her away. “besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

you leaned back against the seat, stretching your legs out a bit. “yeah. it really did.”

the city lights danced in her eyes when she looked at you, soft and a little uncertain, but there was warmth there too. the kind that made the car feel smaller, safer.

“you’re easy to talk to,” she said after a moment, quieter than before.

you smiled, heart tugging just slightly at her honesty. “so are you.”

a comfortable silence settled again, the kind where neither of you felt the need to fill it. the engine ticked softly as it cooled, and in the background, another melancholic song hummed through the speakers.

“i was gonna try and act all chill and collected,” megan said eventually, gaze fixed on the skyline. “but then i fumbled, almost crashed into that curb, and now my bagel is probably in pieces.”

“you’re doing great,” you said, trying not to smile too much. “like, truly elite first impression.”

she turned to face you, eyes bright despite the dim light. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

and just like that, the nerves that had once lingered in the corners of your chest felt like a distant memory.

__

after that night in the car, things shifted. not in a big, dramatic way. no sudden declarations, no fireworks. just small things. steadier things.

your conversations moved from instagram dms to real texts. it felt natural. seamless. one day she asked for your number like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t already been in your head more than you cared to admit. and you gave it without hesitation, like it wasn’t a risk. like you already knew she’d treat it right.

when she left korea, it was quiet. no big goodbye, no emotional scene. she texted you from the airport, a blurry photo of her and a coffee she swore was going to keep her awake through the flight. from there, the messages kept going. even with the time difference, she found time to talk. random updates. sleepy selfies. voice notes with a little static in the background because she always seemed to be walking somewhere, or in a van, or waiting backstage. sometimes she’d send a song with no context. sometimes just a “this reminded me of you” followed by a meme that made absolutely no sense.

you talked about everything and nothing. the shows she was doing. the tiny hotel rooms she was crashing in. how much she missed sophia’s dog, chanel. how lara had started sleep talking again. how yoonchae had near cried when she had to say goodbye to her parents again when they returned to california.

you told her about your week, the upcoming film you’re wrapping up shooting, your friends, the late-night ramen run that ended in rain and ruined shoes.

some nights, the conversations lasted until one of you fell asleep mid-text. other nights, it was just a good morning or goodnight, quick but never careless.

somehow, she made the space between you feel smaller.

it didn’t take long for others to start noticing your budding friendship, either. 

if there was one thing you should know about megan skiendiel, it’s that she’s stubborn. fiercely so. once she feels something, she clings to it with both hands. no disguises, no apologies. she doesn’t know how to be subtle and doesn’t try to be. her heart shows up before she even walks into the room.

and lately, her heart had a habit of mentioning you. probably more than it should have.

the first time was during a casual sit-down with a popular youtuber. the question had been harmless enough.  “did you meet anyone interesting in korea?” 

megan didn’t even blink before your name tumbled out of her mouth.

behind her, manon practically doubled over laughing while lara muttered something about “bad timing” and “inside jokes.” the clip went viral within the hour.

eyekons weren’t buying the act. they knew.

especially after that solo live.

‎ 

megan sank into the couch with a sigh, stretching her legs over the coffee table as she adjusted her phone. It’d been a long day. dance practice ran overtime, vocal lessons left her voice raw, and all she wanted was to collapse into bed. but she had promised her fans a live, and the guilt of leaving them waiting weighed heavily on her.

she brushed  her hair back as the screen flickered to life. a wave of comments flooded in immediately, the chat scrolling too fast to keep up.

she smiled, a familiar warmth settling into her voice. "hi, everyone. It's been a while, huh?"

the dorm was quieter than usual. yoonchae and daniela were still at the studio, finishing up some recording. lara, sophia and manon were off doing who knows what. 

megan answered questions between sips of water, laughing as fans teased her. she talked about her love for food, and her habit of getting lost in airports. the conversation was easy, natural. she talked about practice, her favorite songs lately, and the games she'd been playing. it felt comfortable, like a casual late night talk with friends.

then, suddenly, the energy shifted. the comments exploded into chaos. fans were spamming messages faster than she had ever seen before.

"wait, what's happening?" she mumbled, eyes flicking over the chat, trying to make sense of the flood of messages.

then she saw it. a single line of text that had a dumb grin permanently etching itself across her face. 

y/n:  have you ate today? you look so cute with those glasses on! 

her eyes scanned the screen again just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. but no. it was still there. your name. your message.

she dropped her hands into her lap and beamed, full teeth, no restraint. her cheeks were already tinged pink, and now they burned. she didn’t care.

“hi, y/n,” she said, voice soft but electric. “you’re really here, huh?”

the chat lost its mind. it was like someone had thrown gasoline on a bonfire. hearts, exclamation marks. 

megan didn’t even try to hide it.

“i wasn’t expecting that,” she said, practically bouncing in place now. “like, i thought maybe you’d be busy or… i don’t know, being famous and cool and doing actor things.”

she laughed a short, nervous little burst,  then leaned closer to the screen, like it might bring her to you.

“i did eat, by the way. i wasn’t gonna wear the glasses, but my eyes were tired and they help with the light. but… i’m glad you think they look nice.”

it wasn’t subtle. none of it was subtle.

she was glowing. lit from the inside out with the kind of joy that couldn’t be faked. and even though thousands of fans were watching, even though the chat was an overwhelming blur of reactions and chaos.  for that brief moment, it was like no one else existed. no one but you. 

‎ 

the third, perhaps most notorious time, was two weeks later.

‎ 

it was meant to be a harmless segment. a fluff piece for some new cosmopolitan youtube show. the kind with silly games and awkward dares and an entire soundboard dedicated to exaggerated gasps. katseye had been invited to promote their upcoming showcase, and the host had them lined up in pairs, facing each other in a game of “who knows who better.”

megan had been paired with sophia, which was dangerous from the start. the two had a history of throwing each other under the bus for the sake of comedy, and neither had a filter to speak of.

“okay, last round,” the host grinned, holding up a cue card. “this one’s just for fun. megan, sophia — name one person your partner talks about way too much.”

“oh no,” sophia said instantly, already grinning like the cat who got the cream.

megan groaned, head falling back dramatically. “don’t do this to me.”

“i have no choice,” sophia replied solemnly. “i’m under oath.”

the buzzer sounded and both girls scribbled their answers down on whiteboards. megan wrote slowly, trying to be clever, trying to think of a joke that would dodge the obvious. but when the timer buzzed again, she sighed and held it up.

so did sophia.

your name. in big, bold letters. twice.

the studio burst into laughter, and the host clutched his chest like he’d just witnessed the reveal of the century.

“wow,” he said, eyes flicking between the two of them. “not even a hesitation.”

“because it’s true,” sophia said, smug. “she’s in her ‘y/n era.’ we’re just living in it.”

megan was pink from ear to ear, trying — and failing — to hide behind her board. “that’s not true. okay, maybe a little true.”

“a little?” manon called from off-camera. “girl, you made us watch one of her movies three nights in a row.”

“it was for the plot,” megan shot back.

“uh-huh,” daniela deadpanned. “plot named y/n.”

the clip made the rounds before the show even finished airing. fancams popped up with captions like “megan being the president of y/n’s fan club for six minutes straight” and the internet did what it does best. spiral.

‎ 

through it all, megan didn’t deny a thing.

she couldn’t. not when her whole face lit up like a summer skyline every time your name came up. not when her bandmates had stopped teasing and started treating your existence as something inevitable, like the rising sun or the way manon always stole everyone’s chargers.

 by then, you weren’t just someone she mentioned.

in an industry known for silence, for secrecy and statements about “valuing privacy,” hybe was practically rolling out a red carpet. in korea, relationships in the spotlight were often treated like scandals waiting to happen. but the western fans? they were eating it up. every clipped interview, every suspiciously timed instagram like, every passing mention of your name on a live. it was all free press, and hybe knew it.

so they leaned in. quietly, strategically. no denials. no damage control. just subtle nudges that said, yeah, keep watching.

and it was driving her crazy. 

__

you weren’t exactly sure when it happened. when the feeling settled in your chest and decided to stay. maybe it had been there all along, hiding underneath the comfort of familiarity and the ease of your friendship. or maybe it grew slowly, in the quiet moments you never thought to mark.

it could’ve been during the weeks she was gone, promoting outside of korea. the distance was supposed to make things simpler. safer. but instead, it just made her absence louder. knowing you were still the first person she messaged in the morning and the last one she talked to before sleep made your chest ache in a way you didn’t have a name for yet.

or maybe it was that one night, the one where you called her just to vent about a costar who had spent the entire day getting under your skin. you were halfway through a breathless rant when you noticed it. the way she was watching you through the screen. how she wasn’t just nodding politely or checking her phone or letting her attention drift. she was listening. really listening. her eyes softened when you got frustrated, lit up when you said something funny. when your voice cracked just a little from tiredness, she didn’t interrupt. she just stayed with you. present and still. like holding space for you was the most natural thing in the world.

and somewhere in all of that, it hit you.

you were in love with megan skiendiel. painfully. undeniably. fully.

at first, you were terrified. quietly, achingly scared. because what were you supposed to do with a feeling like this? loving megan had crept up on you, soft and slow, the way a sunset slips past the horizon before you even realize it’s gone. and now that it was here, fully formed and impossible to ignore, you didn’t know how to carry it.

megan had become a constant. someone who felt less like a friend and more like a fixture. someone you could turn to at any hour, knowing she’d listen without judgment, laugh at your bad jokes, sit in silence if that’s what you needed. she never made you feel like too much or not enough. she just saw you. and the last thing you wanted was to ruin something that good with feelings you didn’t know how to manage.

so you kept it quiet. buried it under casual texts and late-night calls. told yourself it wasn’t the right time. told yourself maybe it didn’t need to be said at all.

but then the girls were coming back to korea. six months had passed since their last visit, and the moment megan found out they’d be landing soon, she called you. not texted. not waited. called.

you’d picked up on the first ring.

and now, you were standing at your front door, fingers still curled around the handle, staring at the very girl who had been living rent-free in your head for months.

before you could even speak, megan threw her arms around you. the force of it almost knocked you back a step. her dark brown hair smelled like travel and lavender shampoo and something unmistakably her. she held you like she’d been counting down the days to this moment. like she’d been holding her breath all the way across oceans and could finally breathe again now that she was here.

her arms were warm and tight around you, her face tucked into the crook of your neck. for a few seconds, neither of you said anything. and for the first time in weeks, your heart didn’t feel so loud.

“you smell different,” megan mumbled, voice muffled against your shoulder.

you blinked, startled. “um. thanks?”

she pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands still resting on your waist. “not bad different. just… like laundry detergent and success.”

you snorted. “you’ve been on korean air for fifteen hours and that’s what you open with?”

“i missed you too,” she said, and there was no hesitation in it. no theatrics. just honesty, plain and easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world to say.

you felt the corners of your mouth twitch, trying hard not to smile like a complete idiot. “i figured. what with the fifteen missed calls.”

“okay, first of all,” she said, stepping fully into the apartment now, shrugging off her jacket, “ten of those were because i forgot the time difference and thought you were ghosting me.”

“you forgot the time difference?” you repeated, crossing your arms with a skeptical look.

megan turned around, eyes wide and unconvincing. “yes?”

you stared.

she caved. “no. i panicked. sue me.”

you closed the door behind her, shaking your head. “you’re ridiculous.”

“you like it,” she said without missing a beat, flopping dramatically onto your couch.

you didn’t deny it. instead, you walked over and stood behind the couch, arms draped loosely over the back as you looked down at her.

“so what’s the plan now that you’re back?” you asked.

megan grinned, tossing her head back to look up at you. “coffee. your favorite ramen place. a movie i’ll definitely talk through. and if you’re really lucky, maybe i’ll even let you win at mario kart.”

“bold of you to assume you’d be letting me win,” you said.

“bold of you to think you could beat me,” she fired back, eyes sparkling.

you met her gaze, heart stuttering, voice softer now. “i’m really glad you’re here.”

her grin faltered just a bit, and something gentler settled into her expression. “me too,” she said. “more than you know.”

for a moment you just stared at her, the moment truly settling in. you really did miss her. texting and phone calls were one thing, but seeing her in person was another. her goofy smile, the way she locked in like she didn’t just drop the funniest bomb known to mankind, the way she laughed as if she didn’t care who was watching. she was just one girl and yet, she consumed the space so beautifully without even knowing. 

you almost did it then. almost opened your mouth and let the words tumble out. but you didn’t. instead you settled on a small smile. 

you were about to ask megan if she wanted water when your phone buzzed against the counter. you didn’t need to look to know who it was. you’d spent the entire night before (and entire day honestly) lighting up your text chain with yunjin. sure enough, when you unlocked your screen and peered down, there she was. 

yunjin [7:13pm]: is she there yet or did she ghost you after all that build-up

yunjin [7:13pm]: respond right now or else i’ll think you confessed and blacked out from emotional overload. 

you rolled your eyes and typed back quickly with one hand while grabbing two glasses with the other.

you [7:14pm]: she’s here. no blackouts. yet.

yunjin [7:14pm]: yet???  i’m counting the minutes. btw u should ask her to come to the party tn. i think sungchan wanted to introduce u to someone too, so ur contractually obligated to show up. 

the idea of sungchan wanting to introduce you to someone made your blood run cold. the last time that happened, you ended up stuck in a corner with shindong rambling about crypto, diet tips, and the “glory days” of SM for thirty painfully long minutes.

still, you swallowed the groan bubbling up in your throat and slipped your phone into your pocket before yunjin could fire off something even more unhinged. when you turned back toward the living room, megan had curled herself sideways into the couch, one leg dangling off the edge, her head tilted back like she was trying to make sense of the ceiling tiles.

“was that yunjin?” she asked, grinning like she already knew the answer.

“unfortunately.”

“what’d she say? wait, don’t tell me. something dramatic, slightly invasive, and definitely teasing.”

you handed her a glass of water with a dry look. “spot on. she wants to know if you’re real or just a figment of my imagination.”

megan raised an eyebrow. “and what did you tell her?”

“that you’re here.” you smirked. “look at miss nosey over here.”

she raised both hands in mock surrender, barely hiding her smile. “hey, what can I say? i’m working on a phd for not being able to mind my own damn business.”

you laughed, shaking your head. the kind of laugh that came easily around her. and then, remembering the rest of yunjin’s message, you leaned your weight against the back of the couch, fingers tapping idly on the cushions.

“she’s throwing a party tonight,” you said. “something about celebrating a new album drop. you should come. bring the girls.”

megan sat up a little straighter, sipping her water with the kind of dramatic flair that made you snort. “a party? are there going to be snacks?”

“probably.”

“alright, i’m in. but only if there are snacks and minimal small talk. and maybe karaoke.”

“so you want snacks, bad lighting, and a mic. noted.”

“see, you get me.” she beamed, already reaching for her phone. “i’ll text the girls. we’ll make it a proper entrance.”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. your heart was too full for your own good. “god help us all.”

__

the drive over was chaotic in the way only megan’s presence could make it. she’d managed to wrangle sophia and daniela into coming, predictably the two most likely to say yes to the word “party” before even hearing the rest of the sentence. manon and lara had tapped out almost immediately. yoonchae hadn’t even bothered pretending she was considering it.

megan drove, one hand lazily on the wheel, the other dancing over the radio dial every five seconds. you sat in the front passenger seat, watching her in the glow of passing streetlights.

sophia leaned forward from the back. “so, y/n,” she started, voice thick with mischief, “how’s it feel being megan’s favorite girl?”

“sophia,” megan warned without looking away from the road.

daniela snorted, flinging a gummy at the back of megan’s head. “what? it’s true. we’ve heard more about y/n in the last six months than we have about anyone else.” then she turned to you, leaning forward besides sophia. “i was starting to think she made you up.”

“my god, you guys are worse than lara and manon.” megan muttered, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. she glanced at you, caught the smile playing on your lips, and groaned. “you’re both so annoying.”

“say you love her and we’ll shut up,” daniela sang from the backseat.

“i will crash this car,” megan said flatly, but her ears were pink.

you turned in your seat, raising an eyebrow at the two girls behind you. “this what you do on every drive?”

“only when the company’s good,” sophia grinned.

by the time you walked up to the le sserafim dorm, the music could already be heard before you even reached the front door. the air outside buzzed with voices and laughter. 

you barely had time to step over the threshold before you heard it. 

“there she is!”

yunjin materialized out of the crowd like she owned the place. which, sure, she basically did. it was her party afterall.  she practically skipped the last few steps toward you. before you could get a word in, she grabbed your hand, pulled you into a hug that was half tackle, half dance spin, and leaned back to look you over. “hi, hello, love you, you look disgustingly hot—don’t even try to run, i’ve got plans for us tonight.”

you barely had time to laugh before she clocked the girls behind you. “megan!” she called, eyes lighting up as she pulled you into the house. “and you brought the fun ones! hi, sophia. hi, daniela.”

“you act like we don’t always show up,” sophia said with a grin, accepting the hug yunjin offered.

“it’s not a real party unless daniela’s threatening to outdrink everyone,” yunjin replied.

“not a threat if it’s true,” daniela said, winking.

megan held up her hands in mock surrender. “i told them to behave.”

“why would you do that?” yunjin laughed. “no, i want full chaos tonight. come find me later, i’m kidnapping y/n for a minute.”

you looked back at megan just as yunjin tugged you into the crowd, her hand firm in yours. megan simply grinned, the light catching her face just enough to make your heart skip.

and then the music swallowed you whole.

some part of you couldn’t help but feel a little bit annoyed. truth be told, you’d have rathered been home with megan. caught up on lost time and put on a movie. maybe stepbrothers, because you know it’s one of her favorites from one of your many late night conversations. 

instead, you were here. loud music, dim lights, and the kind of packed crowd that made it hard to think. it wasn’t awful. yunjin’s parties never were. her friends were warm and welcoming, even if chaewon had greeted you with a smug “so where’s megan?” the second you walked in. but still, your eyes kept drifting.

you caught sight of her across the room, laughing at something sophia said, a hand tucked into the pocket of her baggy jeans. daniela was already halfway into a dance battle with some guy in a bucket hat. megan wasn’t doing anything extraordinary. she was just… being. but somehow, that was enough to pull your gaze every time.

you tried to focus on the conversation happening around you. tried to lean into the easy rhythm of old friends and new music. but your mind had already wandered. back to the idea of megan beside you on the couch. back to her laugh. back to the quiet. back to her. always her.

eventually you took a step back when the cup yunjin shoved into your hands was getting empty. 

“gonna get a refill.” you shouted lamely over the music. you didn’t wait for her to respond before you were stalking your way to the kitchen. 

it was in that space you were able to truly look around. you didn’t miss the curious glances shot your way, no, that would’ve been impossible. it felt incredibly vain to acknowledge that you were an idols idol, but you knew. 

you were halfway refilling your cup with some kind of soju concoction when a voice cut through the air. 

“y/n!”

you looked up and immediately locked eyes with a familiar pair of browns. a tall, handsome figure weaved through the crowd toward you, his shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes just enough to make him look like he hadn’t planned a single part of his night. sungchan grinned, all coy charm and childish mischief. you groaned the second he pulled you into a rough side hug, the unmistakable scent of alcohol clinging to his clothes like cologne. still, your arms came up automatically, returning the hug without a second thought. for all his nonsense, sungchan had always been a good friend.

“i want to introduce you to someone.”

you turned just as sungchan stepped aside, and there she was. karina.

you had never met her in person before, but you might as well have. her face was everywhere. it lit up across high-rise billboards in gangnam, looping through luxury brand ads on the subway monitors, popping up on your explore page whenever you so much as breathed near the fashion or idol tag. you remembered the way jaewook had bragged about her back on set a year ago when the dispatch article dropped. he had shown his phone to his costar like it was breaking news, grinning like he had just won something. you had rolled your eyes, walked off to get coffee, and told yourself it wasn’t your business. it wasn’t, until now.

karina was even more stunning in person. her beauty wasn’t the kind that made a scene or demanded attention. it just existed, like it belonged there. her gaze met yours and stayed, unwavering.

it wasn’t rude, or even intense in a threatening way. just… focused. present. like she wasn’t just seeing you but actually registering you.

you were suddenly very aware of your posture, your hands, your everything.

“it’s so nice to meet you!” she called over the music, her voice warm and clear even with the bass thudding through the walls. she stepped just a little closer, enough that you could hear her without leaning in. “i love your stuff. seriously. i’ve been asking sungchan to introduce us for ages, but he’s always chickened out at the last second.”

sungchan made a wounded noise, hand over his chest like she’d just stabbed him, but before he could fire back, wonbin came stumbling past, arm slung around his neck with all the grace of a wrecking ball. they disappeared into the crowd in a tangle of laughter and chaos.

you rolled your eyes and turned back to karina, only to find that her gaze hadn’t left you once. her eyes held yours with that same calm, curious steadiness, like she wasn’t in a packed party but somewhere quieter. somewhere smaller.

you offered a small smile. “likewise. though to be fair, i think he just gets intimidated around pretty girls.”

her lips curved. “pretty, huh?”

you blinked, brain catching up three seconds too late. “oh god, sorry. i don’t know why i said that. yunjin handed me a cup earlier and i don’t even know what was in it. she could’ve poisoned me for all i know.”

karina laughed, the sound easy and low. “knowing her, it’s probably something criminal. you’ll wake up with a hangover and a new life philosophy.”

you laughed too, but it faltered slightly when she leaned in, just enough for her shoulder to brush against yours. it was nothing, a light touch, but it grounded you instantly.

“don’t worry,” she said, voice softer now, “i think you’re pretty too.”

your heart stuttered.

you opened your mouth, but whatever you meant to say vanished the second her smile deepened.

“not to be dramatic or anything,” karina said, lifting her cup for a slow, nonchalant sip, “but i think we’re being watched.”

you blinked. “watched?”

“mhm. i can feel her eyes burning holes into the back of my head. like a laser pointer. i’m actually a little afraid to turn around.”

you tilted your head, letting your eyes scan the room until you found her. megan, standing across the floor. at some point sophia had shoved her cup into megan’s hands and joined daniela on the dance floor. the chinese girl clutched the cup in both hands like it might leap out of them if she didn’t keep a death grip on it. her expression was neutral, but her stare? not subtle.

you cleared your throat. “who, megan? no, no, she’s—”

“look at the way she’s holding that cup,” karina cut in, a grin already pulling at her lips. “you’d think she just watched the most annoying man on earth walk in and ruin everyone’s mood.”

you huffed. “reminds me of a certain six-foot-something actor with a god complex.”

karina snorted, her eyes flashing with recognition before she laughed for real this time, head tipping back for just a second. she knew who you were talking about almost immediately. the one man you had in common besides sungchan happened to be her very tall (very annoying) ex. 

“right. i forgot you know jaewook.”

you raised an eyebrow. “unfortunately.”

“hey,” she said, still grinning. “he’s not that bad. underneath all the bravado he’s actually kind of sweet.”

“sure, you don’t need to convince me.”  you shrugged, completely deadpan. “if the dick’s bomb, it’s bomb.”

karina choked, hand flying to your shoulder as she doubled over in disbelief. she was laughing harder than before, and you felt a little thrill run down your spine at the sound of it.

when she straightened up again, she wiped at her eye and shook her head. “you’re going to wake up tomorrow and regret ever opening your mouth.”

“without a doubt,” you said, already sipping to forget.

“i think i want some of what you’re having,” karina said, eyes glittering with mischief as she swirled the liquid in her cup. “it’s my cue to go find the woman of the hour. but before i do…”

she leaned in, slower this time. you thought she was going to say something else right away, but then her mouth dipped lower, her breath warm as it ghosted the curve of your jaw. you stiffened in surprise, the proximity making your pulse stumble. her lips came dangerously close to your ear, just barely brushing your skin when she spoke.

“that girl. megan.” her voice dropped to something sly and sweet. “she wants you. it’s written all over her face. she hasn’t stopped staring since i walked over. so how about you use some of that liquid courage and do something about it?”

your breath caught, cheeks burning with the kind of heat no drink could explain. karina pulled away just as slowly, and her smile was soft but wicked. it said a hundred things at once. 

 i’m glad we met, good luck out there, don’t screw this up.

then she was gone, slipping into the crowd like she had always belonged to it. her red solo cup bobbed above the sea of people as she drifted toward the corner where yunjin and chaewon were doubled over in laughter.

you didn’t even have time to process it before someone else stepped into her place.

megan.

her arm brushed yours, then stayed there, her hand wrapping gently around the bend of your elbow. she was close. so close. close enough that you could smell the perfume on her skin,  something cool and soft, mint layered with warm vanilla. it hit you all at once that it was yours. a bottle that had disappeared from your vanity six months ago before katseye left korea. and now here it was, clinging to her in the most dizzying way.

your body flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the music or the alcohol. your eyes traveled up, taking in the sheen of sweat along her collarbones and the way her skin glowed under the lights. her crop top clung to her in all the right places, her stomach taut from dancing. you could still see the echo of her movement in the way her breath rose and fell, chest barely brushing yours.

you finally looked at her face again. she was already staring.

her eyes were darker than you remembered, shadowed and unreadable, fixed on you with something that felt like pressure and want and restraint all tangled up into one look. her lips were drawn in a line, neither smiling nor frowning, but firm with intent.

the air between you thinned.

you weren’t sure who would speak first. or if either of you had to. not with the way the tension folded in and around you like the bass from the speakers. not with the way her fingers curled just slightly against your arm, like she wasn’t ready to let go.

“oh. hey. you doing okay?” you asked, voice raised slightly over the music pulsing around you.

megan didn’t answer right away. her eyes stayed locked on yours for a beat too long, and just when you thought she might finally say something, her gaze dropped. slow and deliberate. it traced the line of your jaw and landed just beneath your ear. her expression shifted. something flickered across her face, subtle but sharp. a furrow of her brow that sent a wave of nerves crashing down your spine.

before you could speak again, she brought her thumb to her lips and wet it. then, without hesitation, she reached forward and pressed that same thumb to your neck. her touch was warm, careful. a soft swipe against your skin.

your breath caught.

“she left lipstick on you,” she murmured, quiet but clear enough to cut through the noise.

your hand shot up on instinct, palm flattening over the spot just beneath your ear. you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, blood rushing too fast under your skin.

“o-oh. yeah. was an accident,” you stammered, the words clumsy as they left your mouth.

megan didn’t respond right away. she just hummed.  low, unreadable. then her hand slid down from your elbow, fingers grazing your forearm like she couldn’t quite decide if she wanted to hold on or let go. eventually she settled, her grip tightening just enough that you felt the weight of it. like an anchor. like a warning. like something unspoken passing between the two of you that neither of you had the guts to name.

not yet, anyway.

for a long second, she just stood there, saying nothing. she didn’t blink, didn’t move. only stared.

you shifted on your feet. “did… did i do something wrong?”

her voice was steady, but low. “let me drive you home.”

you blinked. “oh. okay.” it came out softer than you meant, a whisper carried easily between you. she heard it all the same.

‎ 

you weren’t sure how much time passed between then and now. one moment you were alone in the kitchen of yunjin’s dorm, the next megan was muttering something to sophia and daniela under her breath,  a rushed string of syllables that made them blink once, twice, and nod. she grabbed your hand without waiting for an answer and pulled you toward the door. you felt the weight of every pair of eyes that followed you on your way out. yunjin’s brow arched with thinly veiled amusement. sungchan mouthed something that looked suspiciously like “what did you do.” and karina… she didn’t say a word. she just winked.

now you were in the passenger seat of megan’s car, the inside dim and quiet save for the faint hum of the engine and the soft patter of rain beginning to hit the windshield. your buzz had all but faded, replaced by something heavier, something laced with nerves. megan’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. the jaw that was so often relaxed with laughter and teasing was now set and stiff.

you turned to face her fully. “megan. what’s going on with you?”

she didn’t look at you. her gaze stayed fixed on the road ahead as if it held all the answers she couldn’t bring herself to say aloud.

“when did you and karina get so close?” she asked, too casual to be convincing.

you tilted your head, eyes narrowing. “are you jealous?”

there was a beat of silence. then she scoffed. 

“no!…. yes. fuck, y/n, i don’t know. i don’t know what i feel. all i know is that seeing her in your space like that just— it just drives me crazy.”

the car hummed beneath you, megan’s hands gripping the wheel like she was holding onto something more fragile than the leather beneath her fingers. she floored it the moment she pulled onto the main road. fast, reckless as always. the first time you rode passenger princess in her car, you practically grabbed onto the seat for dear life. except tonight, you didn’t even mind. you couldn’t look away. her jaw clenched tight, the faint pulse at her temple a rhythm you felt in your own chest.

the car sped down the dimly lit road of your penthouse’s underground parking, tires echoing against concrete walls. megan didn’t slow until she pulled into a quiet corner, the only sound the engine’s low hum. just the two of you now.

her jaw was tight, eyes sharp. “karina,” she spat, voice low and rough. “she was all in your space like she owns it.”

you met her glare, feeling the heat rising between you. “megan, i just met her.”

 her hand clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went white.

“yeah, well, she sure didn’t act like it,” megan bit out. “in your ear, touching your arm like you’ve been hers for years. you think i didn’t see the way she looked at you?”

you blinked at her, pulse quickening. “why does it even matter?”

megan turned to you then, full body, her eyes blazing. “because it does. because you’re not just some friend i joke around with anymore, y/n.”

the silence that followed was thick, pressing. you stared at her, at the curve of her jaw clenched in frustration, at the way her chest rose and fell like she’d just run a sprint. her brows were furrowed, but beneath the frustration was something else. something that made your stomach twist and your fingers curl tight around your seatbelt.

“megan…”

she exhaled hard, dropping her head back against the headrest for a second like she was trying to force the words out. then her voice came, rough and low. “i can’t stand seeing someone else touch you like that. it makes me feel like i’m gonna lose my mind.”

you reached out, hand hovering before it found hers on the console between you. her fingers twitched under yours, like she was deciding whether to pull away or pull you closer.

“you’re not gonna lose your mind,” you said quietly. “you’re just finally saying what we’ve both been thinking.”

she didn’t reply. didn’t need to. you swallowed, heart hammering. this wasn’t the easy conversation you’d expected. it was raw, jagged, real. her eyes locked onto yours, wild and fierce. for a moment, you could almost feel the weight of everything she hadn’t said hanging between you.

without warning, she leaned in, closing the space with a fierce urgency. her lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding, like she needed to prove something. your breath hitched, caught off guard but all in.

it was messy, desperate, the kind of kiss that didn’t ask for permission. your hands found her hair, pulling her closer. she growled low, the tension snapping as the lines between friends and something more shattered.

it was a blur after that. megan barely killed the engine before the two of you were out of the car, walking fast and too close as you made your way through the quiet underground garage. her hand hovered at your back, not quite touching, but you could feel the heat of it through your shirt. the elevator ride was silent, charged, her reflection burning holes into yours through the metal walls.

the second your door swung open, you were on her again. the lock clicked behind you as you pressed her up against the door, mouths crashing together like you’d both run out of time. your hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, greedy for skin. she kissed you like she needed you to breathe.

“y/n,” she breathed out, but whatever she was going to say got lost in the next kiss, your name drowned out by the low thud of her back hitting the hallway wall.

you didn’t even think, just grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the bedroom, feet stumbling, laughter breaking through the tension for a split second. she followed without hesitation, eyes locked on you like she was trying to memorize the way you looked at her now. 

as soon as you hit the threshold of the room, your mouths found each other again. she kicked the door shut behind her without looking, hands already tugging at the hem of your shirt like she’d waited too long for this. 

she pulled away after a moment to simply stare. 

megan looked at you. the kind of stare that could melt ice. her gaze traces the lines of your body like she was hungry, yet still she said nothing. she swallowed, her lips pursing together as she weighed her own thoughts in her mind. her eyes trailed up and down before finally they settle themselves again on yours. it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what she was thinking in this very moment. you could practically read her through her silence. the way she practically itched to say something funny, to break the tension with a lighthearted joke in true megan fashion. but she couldn’t. her body was reacting as much as yours was. she trembled slightly, her chest rising up and down as if she was struggling to take in air. but it was pure anticipation. when she talks her voice is careful, hesitant, like she was afraid that one wrong word would break the quiet you slipped into. 

“how do i tell you that i want you without making a fool of myself?”

your breath hitched when suddenly she moved. she took a step closer, and instinctively you take a step back. the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you’re falling back. the only thing you can do is sit stupidly and stare up at her as she stares down. she was already tall, but now she loomed over you. 

she was so unlike herself. just ten minutes ago she was fumbling over her own feet, giggling between kisses as her fingers clumsily trailed up and down the warm skin on your back. now, she was confident. like she was looking at you through the lens of someone who realized in the span of a quick ten minutes that they were standing before something holy. 

you hum. “you say it. tell me, megan.”

she doesn’t hesitate. she nudges your legs apart so she’s standing between them now, your legs trapping her in. her hands instinctively raise to the back of your head, one idly playing with the baby hairs on the nape of your neck while the other gently grabbed your chin. she didn’t ask, just simply gripped your chin between her thumb and index finger and tugged. she leaned down slightly , so close that you could feel her hot breath hitting you. when she talks, her voice is quiet. 

“i want you, y/n.”

she moved one inch closer, and her lips brush yours. it was faint. a feather light touch, but it sent shivers down your spine all the same. her eyes dropped back and forth between your eyes and your lips, the grip she had on your chin tightening momentarily before she let go. her hand lazily drifted down from your face and to your chest, fingertips just lightly grazing your skin. and then, she moved the other hand. the hand that once played with the hairs on the back of your neck now moved to the front, fingertips dancing along your throat. she hums. her voice dripped like venom, tantalizing and dangerous all in the same breath. 

“you have no idea how bad.”

you swallow, and megan feels it against the hand she held to your neck when her fingers gently reach out and clasp. nothing tight. but she doesn’t say anything. she simply stares. her eyes dark, her face unreadable save for only the pure want clear in her words. through the grip on your throat, you reply. your voice fell to a whisper, though just as confident as her own. 

“then show me.”

she didn’t need to be told twice. the grip she held on your neck tightened just slightly before she relented. her lips which once grazed yours finally surged the small distance. she kissed you, every emotion she pushed to the back of her mind finally coming out in full force. she tilted her head, a soft sigh of relief escaping her when you met her kiss with equal fervor. 

this was it. the moment where finally, she’d let herself cave. the moment where megan would lose her inhibitions and finally be true to both herself, and to you. being so close to you in this moment made her full body vibrate. you were intoxicating, and she was addicted.

 megan deepened the kiss, her tongue gently swiping across your bottom lip. when you don’t open your mouth, she bites your lip. taking advantage of the gasp you let out, her tongue darts in. without words, her intentions were clearer than daylight. 

she wanted you, and she wanted bad. 

the grip on your neck only tightened until eventually you needed to pull back for air. a string of saliva coated your lips when she pulled back, her grip on your throat relaxing. but she doesn’t mind. she lets you breathe, feels your chest rise and fall beneath her full hand as she trails open mouthed kisses down from your swollen lips to your jaw, and then your neck. she littered kisses around the area her hand clasped around only moments ago, soothing the dull feeling of a phantom grip. 

through your haze and a short gasp, you couldn’t help but tease her. 

“who knew you had that in you, huh, skiendiel?”

megan answered with a simple bite to your neck. a nibble, soothed over with a faint swipe of her tongue immediately after. it was enough to shut you up, if even for a moment. she hummed. 

“can’t help myself. you’ve no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

this time it was your turn to raise a hand and gently play with her hair, her mouth still working at your jaw and throat. you sigh, your fingers clasping around a clump of her dark hair. you shake your head. 

“what, are you trying to tell me this is the only reason you asked for my number all those months ago?”

she knew you were joking, that you were being facetious. still she couldn’t help but frown. she dropped fully to her knees now between your legs, still fully trapped by your legs on either side of her. from this angle as she pulled away from your neck, she looked up at you through her sleepy eyes and pink bangs. 

“maybe this part was wishful thinking. but no, not the only reason.” her hands trailed down again, finding your skin beneath your shirt. her hands were so numbingly cold despite the warmth in her gaze. her hand pressed against your lower stomach, feeling the way your abdomen clenched slightly against her cold palm. she looked at you with her half lidded eyes and all you saw was sincerity. she continues. 

“you’ve no idea how hard it is to keep my hands to myself when you’re you. but fuck, look at you now.” her other hand reaches for the hem of your shirt and now she tugs, her touch gentle despite the bite in her words when she says her next words. “you’re mine, baby.”

the words set something off in you. something that lit a fire in the deepest pits of your stomach, begging to be addressed. and megan knew it. 

and so, she did. 

__

you weren’t sure at what point you fell asleep. all you knew was that when you woke up, you were in your own bed. the blankets were pulled up beneath your chin but it wasn’t their warmth that clung to you like it was moulded for your body, and yours only. 

your eyes trailed over to the sleeping girl besides you. megan’s arm wrapped around your torso, holding you close. her bare body pressed against yours had a chill running down your spine. you could already feel the hickeys forming on your neck, the bruises on your thighs. you could feel the phantom feeling of her nails scratching down your back and her coaxing whispers lingering in your ears. 

megan had practically transformed into a completely different person. the memory of her eyes, dark and dangerous, had you inadvertently shifting closer to her. the slight movement was enough to wake her. a deep, sleepy groan pulled from her lips as she subconsciously nuzzled herself closer into you. when her eyes fluttered open and they landed on you, the difference was night and day. 

she was nervous. shy. she practically hid her face in your neck only to turn red in embarrassment when she was met face to face with the marks she left on your throat. when she speaks her voice is low, awkward. 

“i-i, uh, you know. i’m so sorry. too much? probably. oops.”

despite the situation, you couldn’t help but laugh. the sound alone made her groan, her head digging even deeper into you as if the action alone would hide her from your teasing. a classic ‘if i can’t see you, you can’t see me’ kind of thing. 

“it’s okay, megan.”

she looked up at that, her cheeks still flushed red. but there was no mistaking the way her shoulders relaxed. she looked back at you and it’s then the events from the night before seemed to finally settle in. it’s in this lighting that you realized, again, just how gorgeous she is. the way her hair framed her face even when she was ridden with bedhead. the way her soft lips pouted involuntarily, the way her sleepy eyes looked up at you through her lashes. she was so, unbelievably beautiful without even needing to try. you couldn't help but wonder if she knew this as well as you could see it. 

with a newfound sense of confidence, she suddenly leaned forward. her lips found yours and unlike the fit of messy kisses she gave you the night before, now she takes her time.  when she pulls away, pink dusts her cheeks. 

“i can’t believe we did… that.”

you raise a brow. “oh? pray tell why you’re so surprised.”

megan’s eyes practically blow wide. “seriously? you’re not even the slightest bit shocked and overwhelmed and- a-and, i don’t know, lowkey kinda freaking the fuck out? i mean jeez. you’re you!”

before you can reply she’s already continuing. her arm around your torso tightens, a look of pure shock and elation cemented across her face. 

“do you have any idea how scared it makes me knowing that you’re practically in a league of your own? i mean, shit, you walk into a room and everyone stares. i walk in and everyone waits for me to break my own leg! you’re you. and i’m me. and this just doesn’t make any sense, a-and-“

you turn slightly so you’re facing her fully, her arm around you not slipping but loosening just enough. you shake your head, a hand reaching up gently to swipe her hair from her vision. her pink bangs covered her eyes just slightly, hiding the state of pure frazzle in their depths. you can’t help but chuckle softly. 

when your lips tilt up at the corners, a small grin gracing your face, megan stopped rambling. she was so, completely, irrevocably enamored by you in a way that it hurt her brain. 

when you leaned forward just enough to seal her lips with your own, her breath catches in her throat, silenced. for a moment you both lay there. her arm around your torso now moving to lightly grip your waist, her fingers digging in just barely as if she was grounding herself in the moment. your hand cupped her jaw, the kiss deepening just a second longer. when you pull away, her eyes are blown wide. she stares back at you in equal parts awe, and fear. she was completely undone by you. 

“relax.”

the simple word was all she needed. she nodded her head stupidly and obediently, her lips pursing so tight together as if you’d given her a command she’d follow til her last breath. 

your grin softens into a small smile. “you’re such a loser, megan.”

megan grimaced. the kind of look that was half part an awkward smile, and half part an embarrassment pout.  she burrows her head into your chest with a drawn out groan. she feels the way your body vibrates when you chuckle, hears the way your heart skipped a beat with her ear pressed to your bare chest. and in that moment, she decided. 

no amount of embarrassment would ever outweigh the pride she felt in knowing that it was her you were holding that very morning. 

__

a month passed. 

megan hadn’t planned on going live. it was one of those quiet nights that felt heavier than it should have. the dorm was calm. daniela had vanished into her room with a face mask and a bowl of cereal. sophia had crashed early. the silence made everything feel louder.

so she pulled on an oversized hoodie (your hoodie) and went live from her bed. nothing fancy. just her and her phone, legs tucked under her, the soft yellow light from her nightstand casting a warm glow across the screen.

“hi,” she said, voice soft with that slight rasp it always had when she was winding down. “i couldn’t sleep.”

the chat exploded immediately. hearts, greetings, inside jokes, fans asking about everything from what she had for dinner to her favorite stage outfit from the last comeback. she answered a few, laughed quietly when someone asked if lara still sleep-talked. her fingers toyed absentmindedly with the sleeve of her hoodie as she scrolled.

“what’s the weirdest dream you’ve had recently?” she read aloud, smiling. “okay, so i had this one where i was back in high school, but for some reason all the desks were made of jello, and sophia was my teacher? yeah, no idea. my brain is a strange place.”

another wave of hearts. more laughing emojis. the mood stayed easy, casual, soft around the edges.

then came the question. fast, buried in a sea of others, but megan’s eyes caught it and held.

“who’s that in the background?”

she blinked.

then turned, just slightly, to glance behind her.

there, on the edge of the bed, barely in frame, was you. hoodie half-zipped, face makeup-free, curled against a pillow and blinking slow from the comfort of just having woken up from a nap you hadn’t even meant to take.

megan looked back at the camera, lips tugging into a smile that was both shy and completely unbothered.

“guess the secret’s out,” she said, voice low but steady.

the chat exploded again, this time in full-blown chaos. some fans caught on immediately. others were in denial. a few begged her to clarify, but she didn’t.

instead, she leaned back against the headboard, reached over, and laced her fingers with yours. you blinked blearily, took a second to realize what was happening, then gave a soft laugh.

“hi,” you murmured, just loud enough to be heard. “sorry, i kind of knocked out.”

“it’s okay,” megan said, thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “you’re cute when you sleep.”

the live didn’t last much longer after that. she answered one or two more questions, gave the usual love you guys and get some rest, then signed off.

but the clip stayed. it spread fast, faster than either of you expected. screen recordings, gifs, screenshots, fan theories shifting into confirmed realities. by morning, your names were trending side by side.

and just like that, it wasn’t speculation anymore.

it was real. it was official.

it was you and her. finally.

[sennamaticart]

Artfight attack for @chalkrub of Dr. Rask Mockley!

[chyurro]

red arts I forgot to show ,,!!!!!!!!

[elirium]

baby boy baby

[punkitt-is-here]

ever wanted to watch MLP with punkitt???????????? we're forcing one of my best friends who's never seen to watch an episode :)

[jordanraye47]

are you guys seeing my vision

brigette

noah

izzy

gwen

courtney

[janeprentissashes]

not even to promote myself on here, but simply because i want people to argue with me: my probably deeply controversial dimension 20 main cast pc tier list!!

[jjcocker]

this is just the ROUGH rough sketch

[glueboy-19]

leigh whannell brainrot is so real today this man is the same age as my mother and im twirling my hair and giggling at him on google images after twirling my hair and giggling at him on the big screen on halloween teehee !!

[rosachae]

i can feel death, see its beady eyes | sophia laforteza

⁍ song: street spirit (fade out) - radiohead ⁍ requested: yes! thank you anon. i had 'vamphia' requested a few times. ⁍ genre: twilight au. slowburn! fluff, angst. vampire!sophia, telepath!sophia, good old 'i can read everyone but you'. ⁍ a/n: this is part one. this fic is set in 2004 around the time of the first movie. click here for part two. ⁍ w.c: 26k ⁍ warnings: suggestions of abuse, mentions of blood, death, illness. ⁍ synopsis:

y/n swore that forks froze over the day she left. when she returned six years later after a death in the family, she realized that nothing had changed. same old fog, same faces, same silence tucked between the trees. at least, that was until she met sophia laforteza. beautiful, aloof, and strangely out of place in the cold little town. when sophia offered to help fix up her brothers car, she soon realized she was in for more than she bargained for.

part one

the first thing you noticed when you crossed into forks was how nothing had changed. not the color of the sky, not the lean of the trees, not even the way the mist hung low like it had been waiting just for you. it was exactly as you remembered. quiet, gray, and so infuriatingly unchanged, like the town had held its breath the moment you left and never bothered to exhale.

the four hour greyhound ride down from tacoma was slow. the bus rattled over uneven roads, dipping and climbing with the rhythm of old pavement, its engine humming low beneath the muted conversations that flared up and faded at every stop. olympia, aberdeen, port angeles. places you hadn’t visited since you were thirteen.

you stayed silent the whole time, pressed into a window seat halfway back, earplugs in, radiohead on loop. street spirit played again and again until the bitter edge of it started to gnaw at your nerves, its irony not lost on you as it dragged you deeper into your own head. by the fifteenth repeat it was less a song and more a weight, something that clung to your hoodie like the fog waiting for you in forks. thick and familiar and impossible to shake.

the air was thick with mist that clung to everything like memory, curling around the moss covered trees and soaking into the cracked sidewalks. the sky, an endless stretch of gray, pressed low against the treetops as if trying to fold the town in on itself. winter in forks was not just a season but a mood that settled into your bones, slow and unshakable, the kind of cold that didn’t bite so much as seep. rain drizzled endlessly, not dramatic enough to be noticed but constant enough to matter. it filled potholes and dripped from the eaves of houses that all seemed to slump a little under the weight of the damp. passing by the familiar ‘welcome to forks’ sign, you couldn’t help but be reminded of a particularly wet winter in ninety-four. you were eight, and your older brother was fourteen. one moment you were both sitting in the living room of the old family house watching rugrats, the next your father cursed loud enough to shatter the quiet enjoyment when he slipped on a patch of ice outside the window. the violent man milked his fall for as long as he could before his frustrations brought a sour taste to your mouth. a taste which, unavoidably, resurfaced the very minute his old face flashed into your memory.

you shook your head, chest exhaling deep as you pushed his face to the deepest parts of your mind. 

tacoma had a rhythm to its cold, something you could brace against and forget once you stepped indoors. the first winter you spent in the shabby tacoma apartment you’d call home for six years with your brother was bleak. the first thing he did after graduating was hightail it out of forks. he’d finally reached his limit with your father’s violence and dragged you away, unwilling to leave you behind to face a man who drowned himself in cans of budweiser and cared more about friday night football than his own children. it wasn’t a choice he wanted to make, but it was the only way out. your brother’s quiet strength was the only warmth you had that winter, a fragile hope that things might change. and it did. it got better. you were happy. for all of the six years you were away from forks, you not once found yourself wishing you could go back.

alas, the universe was cruel.

the one year anniversary of your brother's death was spent in pained silence two weeks before you finally had the courage to pack up and leave tacoma. he was only twenty-four. the news hit you hard. it didn’t make any sense. he was young, healthy. one moment he was there, laughing. alive. the next, he was gone. he left behind a silence so loud it swallowed everything else. the days that followed blurred together, each one heavier than the last and filled with questions that had no answers. 

jaehyun was the first to reach out. without hesitation, he offered you a place to stay, a lifeline you desperately needed. with nothing left holding you where you were, you packed your bags and followed him back to forks. the very town you thought you had left behind but was waiting to pull you back in.

low and behold, the very second you stepped off the greyhound, jaehyun’s face was the first thing you saw. he was standing just beyond the bus doors, arms crossed over his chest, a familiar silhouette in the fog heavy forks air. before your feet even touched the pavement, he was already moving, striding forward with the same urgency you remembered from the summers when he and your brother used to drag you out of bed before noon for gas station slushies. his hug hit like a freight train. tight, grounding, and way too fast for you to brace for. he didn’t say anything at first, just squeezed you until your shoulders unclenched, until your fingers remembered how to hold on.

“you look like hell,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to get a good look at you.

“thanks,” you deadpanned, voice rough from the ride.

he grinned, the same crooked grin that hadn’t changed since high school. he looked older, sure. broader in the shoulders, a little sharper in the jaw. but the warmth behind his eyes hadn’t gone anywhere.

he was wearing the standard forks police uniform, same khaki and green getup you briefly remembered adorning chief swan. heavy duty jacket with the department patch on the sleeve, utility belt clipped tight around his waist, boots already damp with roadside slush. his name tag was crooked, and he had one of those old county issued radios clipped to his shoulder, static crackling faintly through it.

you’d seen a lot of uniforms over the years, but somehow jaehyun made his look like it didn’t quite fit. like it was a costume he put on for the sake of the town, but not something he’d ever let define him.

“you still riding around in that death trap?” you asked, nodding toward the cruiser parked half up on the curb.

“death trap’s got a new engine,” jaehyun said, giving the hood a quick pat as you both moved toward the cruiser. at some point he swiped your bags right off your shoulder, slinging them over his own like it was nothing. before you could protest, he popped open the back door and tossed them in with a practiced ease.

“still drives like she did back in the day. louder, maybe. more attitude.” he paused, then glanced over his shoulder. “oh! before i forget…”

he ducked halfway into the back seat, rummaging through an old duffel crammed between worn jackets and loose paperwork. when he turned back, there was something in his hands. a small box. square, wrapped in faded violet paper that looked like it’d been folded and re-folded more than once. a thin, almost apologetic bow sat crooked on top, like someone had tried their best and still didn’t get it quite right.

his expression softened as he held it out to you. it was a real smile, one of the rare ones he didn’t give away easily. but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. not all the way. there was something behind it. careful, perhaps.

“happy eighteenth, y/n,” he said. “he would’ve wanted you to have it.”

you didn’t need to ask who he was. you knew he meant your brother. the wince on his face was enough to tell you that not even jaehyun could say his name aloud after all this time.

you took the box with both hands, slow, like it might break. the paper crackled faintly as you peeled it open, and there it was. a keychain. old and a little beat up, the kind of thing you almost forget about until it’s back in your hands. shaped like a guitar pick, cool and worn, with a name engraved on one side. not his full name. just the nickname only a few people ever used. you were one of them. 

he used to keep it clipped to his backpack. the same one he took everywhere, even when he had nothing to carry. you remembered it bouncing against the zipper while he walked ahead of you, never looking back but always slowing just enough so you could catch up.

you curled your fingers around it. the metal was cold. familiar. heavy in a way that had nothing to do with weight. you pressed your thumb against the engraving and swallowed hard.

you tightened your grip on the box, thumb brushing over the corner, and forced your jaw to relax. no tears. not now. maybe not ever. still, your voice came out quiet. steadier than you expected.

“thank you, jae.”

he didn’t say anything. just gave a small nod and closed the door behind you as you settled into the passenger seat. he said nothing as you carefully slipped the keychain back into the box and delicately placed it inside your jacket pocket. the unspoken understanding between you was clearer than any words could convey.

the drive through forks was quiet, broken only by the rhythmic swish of windshield wipers and the soft crackle of the police radio. jaehyun didn’t say much, and you didn’t mind. he knew better than to fill the silence just for the sake of it. the town drifted by in slow, familiar pieces. the same old diner you used to eat at after games on fridays, the same mom-and-pop shops you once upon a time frequented for free candy. you leaned your forehead against the cool window and watched the trees blur by, their limbs black against the silver fog. 

it was almost hard to believe you were eighteen now. legally an adult. whatever that meant. you didn’t feel like one. not really. you were supposed to be starting your senior year, figuring out prom and college applications and how to parallel park. instead, you were starting over in a town you’d promised yourself you’d never come back to. at a school where everyone already knew each other, no less, where the halls would echo with names and memories you had no part in.

daunting didn’t even begin to cover it.

as jaehyun turned off the main road, the neighborhood started to shift. not quite suburban, not quite rural. houses here were spaced out, modest but sturdy, each one set against a backdrop of thick woods. you could tell who had lived here a while by the moss creeping up their fences, the way the driveways dipped under too much rain. and then, finally, you pulled up to a familiar old house.

jaehyun’s place used to be his parents’. it sat quiet on a cul-de-sac near the edge of town, a two story with weathered blue siding and a front porch that had seen better days. behind the house, the woods pressed in close. or at least, close enough to blur the edge between backyard and forest. it wasn’t quite the middle of nowhere, but it wasn’t far off either.

it looked almost exactly the same as you remembered. you’d been here plenty of times as a kid, back when your brother and jaehyun would drag you along for movie nights or last minute barbecues. you remembered sitting on the porch with a popsicle that melted too fast and being chased by mosquitoes just before dark. those memories came back slowly, soft edged and grainy like old photos.

jaehyun parked at the end of the short gravel driveway and cut the engine. the cruiser settled with a quiet creak.

“still standing,” he said, glancing over at you with a small grin. “barely.”

you opened the door and stepped out. the air was colder here, cleaner somehow. it smelled like wet pine and old leaves. your boots crunched against the gravel as you wrapped yourself tighter into your coat, the box in your pocket pressing faintly into your side. you paused before heading up the porch steps, jaehyun close behind after fetching your bags from the backseat. the house stared back at you like it had been waiting. not welcoming, not cold. just… there. unchanged. unbothered by everything that had happened in the years between.

you shifted your weight and looked up at the second floor window. the light inside was off. but you knew, without even asking, that was where you’d be staying.

home. at least for now.

‎ 

it didn’t take long to unpack. most of what you brought from tacoma could fit into two bags. clothes, a few books, the essentials. of all the things your brother had accumulated over the years, you could only find it within yourself to keep the most valuable. the couch was auctioned, the tv sold. the rest were pieces of him. the things you couldn’t leave behind, even if you barely had the strength to carry them.

his old hoodie, the one you were wearing now, smelled faintly like cedar and fabric softener, though it was probably just your memory filling in the gaps. the sleeves were a little too long, the hem fraying, but you kept your hands tucked into the front pocket anyway.

you’d wrapped his graduation photo in a layer of towels and sealed it in a padded box. not because the glass was fragile, you’d dropped it once before and it didn’t even crack, but because looking at his face for more than a few seconds made your chest ache in a way that didn’t go away with breathing. he was eighteen in that picture. alive with possibility. a crooked grin and a tassel barely hanging on. it hurt in all the quiet ways.

you left it in your new room, flipped down inside the drawer.

by the time you wandered downstairs, the sun was gone. the air inside jaehyun’s house was warm and dimly lit, the kind of cozy that came from low watt bulbs and aging furniture. the walls were still that familiar shade of off-white, and the floor creaked in the same two spots it always had. some things hadn’t changed.

the kitchen was open to the dining room, separated only by a worn breakfast bar stacked with unopened mail. the smell of something savory lingered in the air. garlic, maybe, and soy. the overhead light hummed softly.

jaehyun stood by the stove in a gray long sleeve and faded sweats, his sleeves pushed up past his elbows. his badge and uniform were gone, replaced by something more real. he looked like someone who had finally taken the weight off for the day.

“figured you’d come down eventually,” he said without looking up, stirring something in a pan.

“figured you’d drag me down by the ear. why not do the job for you?” you replied, your voice even.

he grinned at that, then nodded toward the table. “grab a seat. it’s nothing fancy.”

you sat at the small square table near the window. he’d already set it. two plates, two forks, and a pair of mismatched glasses half filled with water. a football game played low on the tv in the next room, all muffled crowd noise and bright commentary. probably the seahawks. neither of you were watching.

he slid a steaming plate in front of you. stir fried noodles, a fried egg on top, and more seasoning than necessary. but it smelled good. comforting, even.

“you cook now?” you asked, eyebrow raised.

“don’t sound so shocked.”

“i’m not. just trying to picture you grocery shopping.”

“i do it in uniform,” he said, deadpan. “people don’t cut in line when you’ve got a gun.”

you let out a quiet laugh, more breath than sound. he cracked another grin before sitting across from you, digging into his own plate.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the forks clinked softly against the ceramic, and the rain started up again outside. steady and slow, like it wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere. the house was quiet in a way only houses on the edge of woods can be, like the silence belonged to the trees outside.

“thanks for dinner,” you said eventually, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

jaehyun looked up and gave a small nod. “anytime.”

you leaned back in your chair, thumb absently brushing the frayed cuff of the hoodie. his hoodie.

“you still sleep with the tv on?” you asked, glancing toward the living room.

“only during football season,” he said.

“that’s year round.”

he shrugged. “convenient for me, then.”

you snorted, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like a performance. just something real. instinctive. the sound of muscle memory sparking back to life.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence after that, the kind that didn’t ask for conversation, just presence. the kind that came with old friendship and heavier years. jaehyun didn’t push. maybe he figured you’d talk when you were ready. maybe he just knew better than to rush a moment like this. still, he couldn’t help himself. after a few beats, he hummed quietly, setting his fork down with a soft clink.

“you remember that old truck your brother used to drive?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, one hand curling around his water glass. “the piece of shit with the busted tail light and the paint peeling off like sunburn?”

you looked up, expression deadpan. “you mean the one that got impounded after he drifted it into the back of your dad’s cruiser?”

jaehyun let out a short, sharp laugh, shoulders shaking. “yeah. that one.”

you smirked. “he tried to lie about it, said the road was iced over.”

“in june,” jaehyun added, grinning. “pops wasn’t buying it. i swear, i thought he was gonna strangle your brother right there. then shoot me for standing too close.”

“i’m surprised he didn’t.”

“same.” he exhaled through his nose, the smile still lingering but pulled thin around the edges. “you call my cruiser a death trap, but man, that truck was something else. your brother loved it, though. wouldn’t shut up about the ‘engine personality’ like it was some kind of misunderstood animal.”

you nodded faintly, the memory flickering. you could still hear the way your brother used to curse under his breath when it stalled at stop signs. how he’d slap the steering wheel twice before trying again, like that would make it cooperate. like the truck just needed encouragement. 

you could also remember how upset he was when he had to leave it behind. 

jaehyun leaned forward, elbows resting on the edge of the table, fingers tapping a loose rhythm. “pops still talks about that day, believe it or not. every now and then, something will set him off. football on mute, an old car commercial. and suddenly he’s right back there, ranting about liability and teenage dumbasses.”

you raised an eyebrow. “does he still think you were a bad influence?”

jaehyun gave you a pointed look. “i was a saint. your brother was the problem.”

you huffed, amused, then watched as his expression shifted. softened. his gaze dropped to the table.

“funny thing is,” he said, voice quieter now, “pops gets all fired up like it just happened, like he’s still trying to figure out how we didn’t burn down half the town. but sometimes he forgets why he’s even telling the story. just trails off. like the ending got too heavy to hold.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, almost absently, as if trying to ground himself. “guess i do that too. forget. or try to. but then it comes back in these weird little ways. something someone says, a smell, a stupid commercial. and suddenly there he is. like no time’s passed.”

his thumb tapped once against the edge of his glass. then again.

you didn’t say anything right away. there wasn’t much that needed to be said. it hung between you. not silence, but shared weight. the kind of grief that doesn’t roar. it lingers. it waits.

you reached for your glass, took a slow sip, then met his eyes.

“you never really forget,” you said simply. “you just learn how to carry it.”

jaehyun gave a small nod. 

another beat of silence passed before this time, it was your turn to ask a question. 

“why did you invite me to stay with you?” 

jaehyun didn’t answer right away. he glanced at you then down at his plate, like the question had caught him off guard. not because he didn’t have an answer, but because he hadn’t expected you to ask.

“you’re serious?” he said after a moment, like he wasn’t sure if you were messing with him.

you didn’t blink. “dead serious.”

he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms loosely over his chest as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. perhaps it was. “because you’re like a sister to me, y/n. always have been. since you were that tiny little rugrat sneaking into the room when me and your brother were trying to play doom in peace.”

you smiled faintly at the memory, but stayed silent. 

“you were the annoying tagalong. the loudmouth with popsicle stains and scraped knees who always wanted to prove she could hang,” he continued, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “but then somewhere along the way, you just… became family.”

his smile didn’t hold long. it dropped, slow but sure, like something giving way under too much weight.

“i couldn’t just sit back after he—” jaehyun paused, jaw working for a second. “after everything.”

you knew who he meant. he didn’t need to say it. your brother had been everything to both of you. his best friend. your entire world.

“he would’ve done the same for me,” jaehyun added, quieter now. “hell, probably faster. wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

you watched him for a second, the way his fingers fidgeted slightly against his arm, the way his gaze stayed fixed somewhere past the table like if he looked at you it might hurt too much. not because he pitied you. but because he missed him too.

“i love you, kid,” he said finally, voice steady but raw at the edges. “you’re all i’ve got left of him.”

you didn’t flinch. didn’t look away. you just nodded, once, slow.

maybe you should’ve said it back. maybe you should’ve leveled his emotional admission with one of your own. but truth be told, you didn’t know how. so you asked the next question that came to mind. 

“why’d you ask about the car?”

he knew how you felt all the same without the words needing to be said. 

“right. that,” he said, like he was just remembering. “so. i’ve got some news.”

you raised a brow. “good news?”

“depends who you ask,” he said. “i made some calls at work today. one of the guys from the rez got back to me a couple hours ago.”

your curiosity perked. you sat forward a little.

“and?”

“they’ve got it,” jaehyun said, tapping a knuckle lightly on the table. “the truck. your brother’s. turns out it’s been sitting in a junk lot just past la push this whole time.”

your eyes widened before you could stop them.

“seriously?”

he nodded, and there was something soft in his expression. carefully buried, but there. “yep. beat to hell, but still in one piece. mostly.”

you couldn’t help the breath that escaped your chest. a laugh, almost. incredulous. the thought of that old, rumbling piece of junk still existing was… absurd.

“that’s amazing.”

“glad you think so,” jaehyun said, pushing back his chair and standing up with his plate in hand. “’cause it’s yours now.”

you blinked. “what?”

“already paid for it,” he said over his shoulder as he walked to the sink. “well, not much to pay, but still. just gotta go down and sign the salvage paperwork. they’ll hand over the keys.”

you stared at him. “you’re kidding.”

“nope.”

he started rinsing off the plate, voice casual. “figured you might want to see it one more time before they gutted it for parts. maybe even keep it. fix it up, if you’ve got the stomach for it.”

“jaehyun…”

he waved you off with the flick of a dish towel, not bothering to turn around. “don’t make it weird. i just thought—hell, i don’t know. maybe it’s stupid. maybe it means nothing. but when i heard it was still out there, i couldn’t stop thinking about the two of you riding around in that thing like you owned the world.”

he turned back toward you then. not quite meeting your eyes. “it felt like… something worth keeping.”

you stood quietly, fingers curled against the edge of the table. no words rose to meet his. not right away. so you crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him instead.

it wasn’t dramatic. it wasn’t tearful. it was quiet, like everything else had been that night. just arms around him, forehead against his shoulder, breath steady.

he froze for half a second, then let out a breath and hugged you back. his hand came up to pat the back of your head like it was instinct.

“it’s really not a big deal,” he mumbled, voice a little rougher now. “it’s a shitty old truck, y/n.”

“i know,” you murmured.

but neither of you moved. not yet.

it wasn’t about the truck. not really. you both knew that. it was about memory, and the pieces of him still left scattered in the world.

jaehyun, quietly, made sure you got to keep one.

__

when you woke up on monday morning, the last thing you expected was to be embarrassed within the point-zero-two seconds you stepped on highschool soil. it was another cold, rainy day and jaehyun offered to drive you. you knew better than to say no. the last thing you needed was to walk through the downpour until you were waterlogged to the bone, or ride the bus and deal with the shenanigans of seniors you had no interest in meeting. though perhaps you should’ve rethought your decision. 

jaehyun’s cruiser rolled into the school parking lot with all the subtlety of a small town parade. he flicked the siren once, a sharp, obnoxious whoop reverberating through the lot. he leaned across the seat to grin stupidly at you through the open passenger window, watching the way you  halfheartedly got out of the car with a low groan. 

“seriously?” you said, not even bothering to look at him.

“just marking the grand return,” he said, all teeth. “gotta let the people know a local legend’s back.”

“you’re annoying,” you muttered, slinging your bag over one shoulder. “maybe i should file a complaint. ‘police officer harasses student on school grounds’. thoughts?”

“have fun at school, kid. don’t do drugs,” he called, pointedly ignoring your latter comment. he laughed and pulled away before you could say anything else, tires crunching over wet gravel as the cruiser left the parking lot. 

you didn’t rush. didn’t flinch. you adjusted your bag, shoved your hands into your coat pockets, and walked toward the high school doors with a small roll of your eyes.

as much as you wanted to play it cool and avoid embarrassing yourself any more than jaehyun already had, it was hard to ignore the few stares aimed your way. especially from the group standing in the far corner of the lot beside a silver volvo and a black bmw convertible. when you glanced over, just for a second, they were already gone.

"i’m going crazy already," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with one hand before finally stepping into the high school foyer.

forks high was exactly the kind of place you expected it to be. quiet. cold. a little too clean in some corners and not clean enough in others. the entryway was all pale tile and dull brick, the kind of off-white that never really looked white, just tired. bulletin boards lined the walls, cluttered with curling flyers. student council meetings, lost and found notes, half ripped posters for drama club auditions. everything smelled faintly of rain, as if the weather had soaked into the walls and never quite left.

the ceiling was low, lined with flickering fluorescent lights that buzzed just loud enough to irritate. lockers stretched down the hallway like a muted steel spine, dented and marked with years of quiet rebellion. stickers half-scraped off, initials carved into paint.

students milled around, voices low, footsteps soft against the linoleum. it wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. you moved through the space like you’d been here before, because you had, sort of. memories trickled in, slow and out of order. you could almost picture your younger self walking these halls, small and quiet and trailing behind your brother.

but that version of you was long gone. and this place, for all its sameness, would have to meet a new you.

you made it to the admissions office without needing directions. same yellowing tile, same bulletin board, same secretary who didn’t look up until you were standing directly in front of her desk.

she handed over a folded class schedule and a half mumbled “you’ll need to get that slip signed,” like it was muscle memory. you took the papers with a nod and turned to go. only, you were stopped by the presence of a tall girl standing in the doorway.

the desi girl stopped just a second before she bumped into you completely, her mouth opening as if she was a second away from saying something either gently condescending, or something downright cruel— no inbetween. but she closed her mouth just as swiftly as if she recognized who you were.

she was stunning. dark hair fell around her face in loose waves, effortless like it always looked that way. her brown skin caught the light just right, glowing with the kind of confidence you couldn’t fake. she wore a long coat over a fitted tank, no backpack in sight. just a worn leather tote slung over one shoulder like she didn’t have a care in the world. she didn’t look like she was trying, which only made it worse. or better, depending on your angle.

for a moment, neither of you moved. her eyes scanned your face, cool and calculating, like she was trying to place you in a lineup. yours were more confused than anything, unsure why this girl, who clearly didn’t hand out her attention lightly, was giving you so much of it.

then she tilted her head, the slightest shift, and something in her expression changed. not softened exactly, but warmed in a way that felt out of place for someone who looked like she lived on disinterest.

“…y/n?”

you raised a brow. “yes...?”

the sarcasm that had been brimming on her lips vanished before it could land. the edge in her voice dulled.

“thought so,” she said, and for a second, it almost sounded like she was glad.

you gave her a once over. the curve of her mouth, the way she stood like she owned the hallway. there was something familiar in it, just out of reach. a feeling more than a memory, like a song you used to know by heart but hadn’t heard in years.

"lara raj," she said, watching your face like she was waiting for the click of recognition. "we used to carpool. preschool. your mom had that beat up red station wagon, the one with the broken cassette player that only played static and that one lion king tape."

the image came back slowly, hazy at the edges. her, years smaller, hair frazzled and curly, legs swinging from the edge of the backseat. your mom's voice humming along to muffled music, a juice box passed between sticky fingers. a simple time before everything got complicated.

"wow," your eyes widened slightly, still caught somewhere between surprise and nostalgia. "i haven't thought about that car in forever."

lara smiled, just enough to soften her sharp edges. her gaze lingered on you a second too long to be casual.

"yeah, i try not to think about preschool me either. tragic fashion choices," she said, a small laugh in her voice. then, she pointedly looked you up and down. she leaned against the door of the office, the administration lady long forgotten behind you. "but you? hard to forget."

the way she said it wasn’t overly sweet, but it carried a weight that made your stomach dip. like she knew exactly how pretty she was and wasn’t afraid to use it.

"the glow up suits you, by the way," she added, eyes skimming you again, slower this time.

you weren’t sure what surprised you more. her remembering, or the fact that she actually seemed happy to see you.

you grinned, just a little. “i’d say the same but all i can think about is your pink shoes.”

the corners of lara's lips tilted up into a small smirk, quick and clean. “damn. you do remember.”

“hard to forget someone who cried when someone else wore the same pair.”

“okay, rude,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes briefly before that same calm expression returned to her pretty face. “but i’ll let it slide.”

you stepped aside to let someone pass through the narrow doorway, but lara barely budged. that was all it took to figure her out. she was the kind of person who expected the world to move around her, because she never moved for anyone. a small part of you couldn’t help but envy that.

she nodded toward the paper in your hands. "first day?"

“yes,” you nodded, glancing down to read the fine print text. you grimaced. “i’ve got no clue where i’m supposed to be.”

she nodded, thoughtful. “then you’re with me.”

you didn’t ask if she was supposed to be your guide.  the way she said it made it clear it wasn’t a question. even if she wasn’t, something told you she just wanted the excuse to talk a little longer.

lara pried the paper from your hands, her eyes scanning the paper carefully. after a moment she folded it back up and nodded for you to follow her wordlessly, the hallways practically parting like the red sea around her as she lead you to your first class of the day. you walked together, slow and unbothered, like this was something you’d done before. when you notice the very pointed stares shot your way, you awkwardly leaned in close enough for her to hear.

“so, lara... mind telling me why everyone’s looking at you like you shot lennon?”

the hallway hummed with the quiet chaos of a monday morning. sneakers squeaked against freshly waxed floors, lockers slammed shut with tired finality. lara didn’t even glance around. she walked like she didn’t notice the stares. or rather, like she didn’t care.

“oh, you know,” she said with a lazy shrug, her tone almost bored. “you tell one guy to shut the hell up in chem, maybe threaten to cut his brake lines if he doesn’t stop talking during your quiz, and suddenly you’re a menace to society. go figure.”

you blinked. “wow. totally reasonable behavior.”

“right?” she flashed you a grin, unapologetic. “people can be so dramatic.”

you shook your head with a small laugh, adjusting the strap of your bag as you both rounded a corner. the crowd seemed to melt out of her way, as if they were used to doing it. or perhaps, too scared not to.

“so,” lara said after a beat, her voice quieter now. “what’re you doing back here? i didn’t think i’d ever see you again after you just… up and left.”

you hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “well, i don’t know if ‘up and left’ is the phrase i’d use.” 

lara glanced at you from the corner of her eye, skeptical. “still. one day you’re there, the next you’re just gone. no warning. it sucked.”

you glanced at her, surprised by the blunt honesty.

“what’s it to you?” you asked, trying to keep it light. “didn’t think you’d even remember me.”

she scoffed, rolling her eyes in that smooth, practiced way that said she absolutely knew how cool she looked doing it. “can’t a girl miss a pretty face?”

you snorted. “i’m sure my middle school acne was miss america material.”

lara tilted her head slightly. “yeah, well. look at you now. i think it all worked out.”

you blinked, heat rising to your cheeks before you could stop it. lara just kept walking like she hadn’t dropped a casual bomb on your morning. her third semi-compliment and you weren’t even ten minutes into the day yet.

she stopped a few steps later in front of a classroom, gesturing inside with a subtle nod of her head. but even as the bell rang, as bodies started racing through the halls to make it on time, she didn’t move. her absolute nonchalance made you feel somewhat nervous. how the hell did this girl make it to senior year?

lara stared you down, the corner of her lips tilting up. “come find me at lunch, yeah? i’ll introduce you to some of my friends.”

you couldn’t help but furrow your brows, your eyes narrowing doubtfully. “something tells me this isn’t an offer you give everybody.”

she simply shrugged, her feet finally turning and carrying her in the opposite direction. still, her voice carried through the hall loud enough for you to hear over the sound of the bell and chatter.  “maybe one could say i just have a soft spot. be there or don’t, it’s up to you. but i know i’d like to see you again.”

and that was it. you stood in the doorway and watched her walk, snorting quietly when she slammed into a freshman not paying attention to his surroundings with a less-than-apologetic roll of her eyes. lara raj was so unlike the girl you used to know when you were kids. but somehow, you knew her presence alone was going to make this transition so much easier.

‎ 

by the time lunch rolled around, you were nearly convinced your brain had liquefied. something about first day overstimulation made even the simplest subjects feel like complex equations. names blurred, directions tangled, and your feet were already beginning to ache from pacing between unfamiliar classrooms.

still, you’d survived. mostly.

the cafeteria was louder than you'd expected. it buzzed with conversation, the scraping of plastic trays, and the occasional obnoxious burst of laughter. the scent of underwhelming food drifted in thick waves, clashing with the faint tang of rain still clinging to students’ jackets.

you stood at the entrance for a moment, scanning the room. and then you saw her. lara sat at one of the center tables, leaning back in her chair like she owned it. legs crossed, posture relaxed. she wasn’t alone.

the first girl your eyes darted to was the one with long, dark curly hair falling past her shoulders and a cool, unreadable expression stitched across her face. her curls complimented her dark skin beautifully, her eyeliner capturing the sharpness of her eyes.  the second girl had sleek, straight hair dyed a bright orange and a slightly dazed look in her eyes, like her brain was on a three second delay. the thought almost brought a grin to your face as you walked over.

lara spotted you immediately. her lips curved into that same half smile she’d worn all morning. “look who didn’t chicken out.”

“wasn’t sure if the invite was real,” you replied, sitting across from her. “you don’t seem like the type to socialize.”

lara tilted her head slightly. “you’re not wrong. but i make exceptions.”

the dark haired girl beside her raised a brow. “this the new girl?”

“y/n,” lara said, nodding toward you. “she’s an old friend.”

“friend?” the orange haired girl echoed, blinking. “damn, i didn’t know lara had those.”

lara didn’t blink. “i don’t.”

across the table, the dark haired girl gave a slow, deliberate smile. “manon,” she offered, introducing herself with a cool accent you couldn’t place. somewhere european, smooth and crisp. “please don’t let lara’s attitude scare you. i’m glad we have someone new coming to sit with us.”

“megan,” the other girl said, waving with her spoon. “i’m the one who makes this table tolerable. sometimes.”

“she’s not lying,” lara murmured, resting her chin on her hand. “it’s mostly manon and me making fun of people. megan’s the comic relief.”

“every group needs a clown,” megan said cheerfully, not the least bit offended. “besides, my gpa’s higher than both of yours. clown and valedictorian? the duality is crazy.”

manon’s eyes zeroed in on you after a moment, curious as she ignored the younger girl's words with a roll of her eyes. megan pouted slightly when no one acknowledged her, but dug back into her yoghurt anyway. 

“so,” manon drawled, scanning your frame. “what’s your deal? i’ll be honest, it’s a small town. the moment we all heard someone new was moving in, it kinda made rounds. it’s unusual.”

megan chimed in with a small hum, leaning forward with equal curiosity, spoon in mouth. “forks isn’t anything special. you’re staying with that cute cop, right? officer jeong?”

your eyes blew wide. “cute? i don’t know about that. jaehyun’s like a brother.” then you trailed off, thoughtful. you didn’t know these girls well enough to splurge too much detail, not yet. instead you shrugged. “just needed a change in scenery, i guess. he’s  an old family friend and had a spare room. nothing too interesting.”

lara hummed. “interesting enough. not a lot happens around here. you coming back is probably the most entertaining thing to happen in a while. except for–” she stopped mid sentence. not dramatically. more like her words just slipped away, pulled by something just out of frame.

you noticed the shift immediately. her posture straightened, a subtle lean in her stance like she was trying not to stare too obviously. you followed her gaze.

and that’s when you saw her.

long legs, bare despite the cold, framed by the curve of a short dark denim skirt. her jacket was cropped and tailored, hugging her waist with silver stitching that glinted when she moved. brown boots laced high over her calves, fur lining the edges like something out of a high fashion wilderness. every inch of her was styled, but not forced. like this wasn’t her best effort. it was just any regular old monday. 

her hair fell in thick, effortless waves, black and glossy. she had the kind of beauty you didn’t speak about out loud. too sharp, too deliberate. as if someone had sculpted her with a precise hand, then had the audacity to give her those lips. full, lacquered, and slightly parted. her eyes were ringed with dark lashes, skin soft like moonlight filtered through silk. and yet, despite all that, there was something distant about her. not cold, not unkind. just… out of reach. like she existed on the other side of glass and hadn’t decided yet whether she’d let anyone cross.

she glanced across the room once, slow, unbothered. the kind of look that made people straighten in their chairs without realizing. her gaze skimmed past you, and even that made your pulse stutter. not because she’d seen you. but because, just for a second, it felt like she might.

then she turned and walked to a table near the windows where another girl was already sat. curly brown hair, a beauty mark above her eyebrow. she was breathtakingly gorgeous, too. still, your gaze wandered back to the black haired beauty. they didn’t greet each other with words. just a glance, a tilt of the head. some quiet understanding that only made her feel further away. 

“who is she?” you asked, voice low, words barely leaving your mouth.

manon looked up, followed your line of sight, and hummed in recognition.

“that’s sophia laforteza. if i were you, i wouldn’t bother trying to get too close. her and her sisters don’t really talk to anyone outside of each other.”

“sisters?”

“adopted. daniela’s in our year, and yoonchae’s a junior. rumor has it there’s more, but who knows.” manon shrugged. “it’s not like anyone can get close to find out. they just stick to themselves.”

you didn’t answer right away. your eyes were still locked onto sophia and her sister, who you assumed was daniela. they didn’t say much. barely looked around. there was a kind of practiced quiet about them, like they were used to being watched but didn’t care.

“you should see their dad. man, does he got it going on,” megan added, lips twisting into a silly grin.

you blinked. maybe you were imagining it, but you could’ve sworn sophia’s jaw clenched. her nose twitched up like she’d caught a bad smell, just for a split second. no one else seemed to notice, or care, so you shrugged it off. must’ve been a trick of the light.

manon continued after a beat, dismissing megan’s words with a subtle eye roll.  “her dad, insung, is a doctor. his wife does some kind of home renovation thing. i don’t know, really. all i do know is that they won’t give you the time of day. especially not sophia.”

lara chimed in with a snort. “do you remember when jungwon tried asking her out and she ignored him completely? poor guy was laughed at for two weeks straight after.”

“well yeah, but that’s because he ran into a wall hightailing it out of the cafeteria. if you ask me, he did it to himself.”

the conversation drifted on from there, the girls falling back into idle gossip and half laughed stories, but you stayed quiet.

your eyes kept drifting back to sophia’s table.

you weren’t trying to be obvious about it, but it didn’t matter. the pull was gravitational. something about her lingered in the back of your mind, like the echo of a song you couldn’t name. it was in the way she sat, shoulders relaxed but spine straight, chin tilted like she was carved from stillness. everything about her was deliberate. still. certain. like she’d never once second guessed anything in her life.

you couldn’t tell if it was admiration, curiosity, or something else altogether. all you knew was that no matter how many times you forced your gaze to shift, it always returned to her.

sophia hadn’t looked up once. not toward you, not toward anyone. she didn’t need to. she was above it. not in the petty, mean girl way people liked to throw around, but in that impossible, untouchable way some people just were. like the air bent around her.

and then she looked at you.

it was sharp. not sudden, not startled. but sharp. like she’d been trying not to, like she was irritated she even had to. her gaze snapped to yours across the room, and for the first time since you walked into forks high, your breath caught.

her eyes were dark. endless. and furious.

not in a loud, expressive way. no. this was quiet rage. confused, measured, simmering just under the surface. her jaw clenched slightly, her brow barely twitching. she looked at you like you were the one thing in the room that didn’t make sense,  and it angered her.

and god, she was beautiful.

more beautiful, even, than when she wasn’t looking at you. with the full weight of her attention on you, she became something else entirely. sharp edged, magnetic, electric. every line of her face was clearer now, every curve more impossible. her glossy lips were parted just slightly, her eyes unreadable but piercing. 

you didn’t look away. 

but it didn’t matter. one blink was all it took. like flipping a switch, the connection severed, cold and immediate. she turned back to her sister, untouched. uninterested. like the moment hadn’t happened at all.

but it had.

and you were still sitting there, heartbeat in your throat, wondering why it felt like she hadn’t just looked at you, but into you.

and she found nothing.

__

the rest of the day passed in a blur. teachers spoke, classmates introduced themselves, bells rang. you moved through all of it like you were watching yourself from somewhere else. distant. unfocused. if you were honest with yourself, you knew exactly why.

sophia laforteza.

pale skin, glossy lips, eyes like razors. you couldn’t stop thinking about her. not the way she looked in the casual sense, though that, too. but the way it felt when her eyes met yours. like being held under a microscope. examined. dismissed. it wasn’t just her beauty that lingered. it was the sharpness of it, the way she seemed to move through the world untouched, unaffected. like she didn’t need to speak to be heard. like the air around her shifted to make space.

her face kept flashing behind your eyelids every time you blinked. that single, perfect curl falling over her shoulder. the way her dark lashes framed those piercing, unreadable eyes. the fullness of her lips, too glossy, too perfect to be real. it was like looking at a painting that dared you to understand it, and punished you for trying.

you’d hadn’t spoken a word to her, and yet she managed to embed herself in your brain like a splinter. no warning, no introduction. just in, under your skin and in the quiet corners of your mind.

it was absurd. maddening. unfair.

because what kind of cosmic joke was it to let someone like her exist? someone so thoroughly, heartbreakingly gorgeous, and then drop her into your reality without warning? as if it was normal. as if people like her weren’t supposed to live somewhere else entirely. magazine covers, film premieres, dreams.

but no. she was here. in your school. sitting at a cafeteria table with her sister like she hadn’t just shattered your internal equilibrium. you were still trying to piece yourself together.

you tried to shake it off. to ground yourself in the mundane. but even then, your mind drifted back to her. back to that strange, silent moment where she’d looked at you like your very existence had thrown her off course. you didn’t know what that meant. you didn’t know why it mattered. you just knew it did. somewhere behind those dark eyes, there was a secret. and for reasons you couldn’t explain, you wanted to be the one to uncover it.

you were pulled from your thoughts by the sudden clang of your head smacking into the side of a clevis hangar, the sharp ring echoing off the concrete walls of jaehyun’s garage. pain bloomed above your eyebrow, and you muttered a curse under your breath, raising a hand to rub the sore spot.

behind you, jaehyun burst out laughing.

“shit, sorry! that was not part of the surprise.”

“please,” you groaned, “take this damn blindfold off before I get a concussion.”

“right, yeah, hang on.”

you felt him step behind you, the knot at the back of your head loosening with a tug of his fingers. the fabric slipped away and for a moment you had to blink, letting your eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent light overhead. then you saw it. it hit you like a punch to the gut.

your brother’s truck.

old. beat up. unmistakable. the faded blue eighty-six chevrolet sat at the center of the garage like some relic from a different lifetime. rust clung to the edges of the hood, the tires were half deflated, and the front bumper was still crooked from that incident with jaehyun’s father. 

but it was his.

your breath caught in your throat, and for a second all you could do was stare. it was like seeing a ghost in daylight. impossible and undeniable all at once.

jaehyun shifted beside you, still grinning, hands planted on his hips like he’d just won a prize.

“well?” he asked. “recognize it?”

“yeah,” you said, barely above a whisper. “yeah, i do.”

you stepped closer, fingers brushing over the worn driver side door like it might vanish if you touched it too hard. the metal was cold beneath your hand. familiar. real.

“how the hell did you get her back here?“

he gave a small self satisfied shrug, like it hadn’t taken him two weeks of back-and-forth calls and a favor from a friend who owed him.

“i had it towed. nothing a little elbow grease and some calls couldn’t do.”

you glanced at him, then back at the truck. the corners of your mouth lifted. barely.

“you really think she’s gonna run?”

jaehyun raised his brows, took a step forward, and rapped twice on the hood like he was waking up an old friend.

“only one way to find out.”

you didn’t hesitate. the door creaked when you pulled it open, louder than you remembered, and the interior smelled faintly of old vinyl and motor oil. exactly like it used to. you climbed in and sat behind the wheel, your fingers wrapping instinctively around the gearshift.

it felt… eerie, how natural it still was. like your brother had only just stepped out and handed you the keys.

you took a deep breath, slid the key into the ignition, and turned.

click.

you tried again.

clickclickclick.

the engine didn’t even cough. just a cold, mechanical protest. you leaned back, eyes shut for a second, then looked out the window at jaehyun.

“you sure this thing didn’t die a final death already?”

“give her a break,” he called back, grinning. “she’s been asleep for a while.”

you exhaled through your nose and turned the key one last time, slower now. like the truck might respond better to gentleness.

click.

“she’s dead,” you said plainly, throwing the door open again and stepping out. “like, dead dead.”

jaehyun shrugged again, not the least bit surprised. “well, i told you it was in rough shape. figured you’d maybe wanna’ fix it up.”

you looked at the truck again. the rust, the chipped paint, the cracked windshield. you could still see the faint outline of the old bumper sticker your brother had slapped on the back when he was seventeen. it felt less like a machine and more like a time capsule.

“you’re not wrong,” you said finally, quietly. “she just needs a little time.”

“don’t we all,” jaehyun muttered. “i’ll help you get her running again. between the two of us, we’ll bring her back.”

you raised a brow. “since when do you know anything about cars?”

he snorted. “i don’t. but i’ve got tools. how hard can it be?”

you smiled, just faintly, and looked back at the truck.

“guess we’ll find out.”

‎ 

it was almost comical how wrong you both were. 

it started with confidence. jaehyun dragged out a dented toolbox from the back of the garage, wiping it down like it was some kind of sacred relic. 

“we’ve got this,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “it’s just a truck.”

you raised an eyebrow. “a truck that’s been sitting dead for over six years.”

“semantics.”

the hood fought you at every step. first it wouldn’t open, then it opened too quickly. it slammed upward with a metallic crack that nearly took jaehyun’s head off. 

“not a word,” he muttered when he saw your shocked face.

the engine bay was a horror show. rust, leaves, something suspiciously chewed up in one corner. a graveyard of neglect. still, you gave it a go. you held the flashlight while jaehyun peered inside like he was looking into the soul of an ancient beast.

“alright, battery first,” he said.

“do you even know how to jump a car?”

“doesn’t everyone?”

you didn’t. at least, not correctly.

jaehyun pulled his cruiser into the garage nose to nose with the truck, and uncoiled the jumper cables like a man with a plan. five minutes later, sparks flew. too many of them, at that. one of the clamps popped loose and landed on the floor with a metallic clink.

“that didn’t seem right,” you said, peeking around the door.

“we’re fine,” jaehyun answered, determined. 

you leaned against the garage wall, arms crossed. “we’re gonna blow this place up.”

“not tonight, please. i just cleaned.”

you tried the ignition once, then twice. the engine groaned, a long, sickly sound like it was trying to wake from a coma. it sputtered, choked, and fell silent again.

jaehyun cursed softly under his breath, then grabbed a wrench and slid under the truck with the kind of reckless optimism that only comes from someone who hadn’t read a single manual.

you knelt down beside him, flashlight in hand. “what are we even looking for?”

“something loose. or not connected. or… i don’t know. anything that doesn’t look like it should be there.”

“jae, i’ve never seen a working truck engine in my life. it all looks like it shouldn’t be there.”

somewhere between checking fuses and trying to siphon old fuel from the tank, you both lost track of time. the garage grew cold. the air turned heavy with grease and old dust. there was a slow, steady rhythm to your failures. try, fail, adjust. try again.

at one point, jaehyun smacked the steering wheel in frustration. “i swear this truck is cursed.”

the truck didn’t move. not an inch. the key turned and gave you nothing but sputters and silence.

but you didn’t mind.

it wasn’t about whether it ran. not tonight. tonight, it was about being in that space, shoulders brushing, laughter tucked between curses and exhaust fumes, and the quiet weight of memory that hung around the truck like fog.

“we’ll try again tomorrow,” jaehyun finally said, wiping his hands with a rag and slumping into a folding chair.

you stayed seated a moment longer, hand resting on the cold, dented frame of the driver’s door.

“yeah,” you said softly. “tomorrow.”

‎

only, perhaps ‘tomorrow’ wouldn’t come after all. 

you weren’t sure when exactly you passed out. one minute you were scrubbing black grime from your skin, the next you were under your covers, still in yesterday’s clothes, your pillow streaked with the faint scent of motor oil. maybe it was the weight of the day. maybe it was the ache in your shoulders from hours hunched over an engine that didn’t want to come back to life. maybe it was even the weight of your first day at forks high. but you were exhausted. your body begged for the relief of a good night's rest. 

only the bang that woke you, loud in its boom, cut through your sleep like a blade. you sat up, breath caught in your throat.

“jaehyun?” your voice came out hoarse, barely audible.

silence.

you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood, every instinct prickling beneath your skin. your clothes were crumpled, stiff with the day’s sweat and oil. something felt off. you didn’t know what, only that the air was wrong. too still. the hallway light was on. dim, yellow, buzzing faintly. you followed it down the stairs.

“jae?” you called again.

this time, he answered. muffled and tense. “hey—shit, sorry. didn’t mean to wake you.”

he was in the dining room, crouched near the bench, one boot already on and the other half laced. his uniform was thrown on in a hurry, shirt wrinkled, badge skewed slightly to the left. he was moving with urgency. something you hadn’t seen from him in a long time.

then you saw the gun. it sat on the dining table beside his keys. holstered, loaded, polished.

your heart sank. “what’s going on?”

he sighed, running a hand over his face. “a call came through about an hour ago. something happened out in the woods, not far. a hiker found a body.”

you stared. “a body?”

“they said it was…” he hesitated. “it looked strange.”

“strange how?”

“i don’t know yet,” he said. “dispatch didn’t give much detail. i’m heading up with a few of the guys now. we’ll get it sorted.”

you stepped closer, arms crossed. “i’m coming with you.”

he looked up, eyebrows lifting. “like hell you are.”

“why not?”

“because it’s a crime scene, y/n. it’s not a field trip.” he grabbed his coat and shoved one arm through the sleeve. “i need you to stay here.”

“i’m not a kid.”

“you’re not trained for this either.”

you stared at each other for a moment. it wasn’t a fight. it wasn’t loud or emotional. but there was something stubborn in your eyes that he recognized too well.

he softened slightly. “look. i’ll be back before morning. just stay inside, alright? lock the door. don’t go wandering.”

you didn’t answer. he didn’t wait for one. you watched him slip out the front door and disappear into the darkness, cruiser engine rumbling to life outside. red and blue lights flashed once, then vanished down the road.

you stood there for a while, unmoving. and then, maybe twenty minutes later, you weren’t inside anymore.

you hadn’t even meant to leave. you told yourself you were just checking. just seeing where the road led. but somehow your boots crunched against a dirt path thick with fallen leaves and rain soaked pine needles. the forest smelled like cold sap and wet bark. you hadn’t realized how dark it was until the trees swallowed you whole, the moon flickering faintly through the canopy above.

now here you were. in the dark, in the cold, breath caught in your throat as the scene came into full view.

a few cruisers were parked in a messy half circle, headlights casting uneven beams over the forest floor. long flashlights cut through the trees like searchlights. you couldn’t make out much detail at first, just movement. police moving slow and deliberate. too quiet for a crime scene.

no one joked. no one talked. and that silence rang louder than any siren.

you were about to duck away, maybe circle around for a better vantage point, when everything changed.

a sound. something like a crack, a shift of air too fast to register. it ripped through the clearing. something blurred at the edge of your vision, faster than anything you’d ever seen move. it was tall. too tall, and lean in a way that was almost wrong. skin pale as the moonlight. eyes, if you could call them that, glowing faintly red for the briefest flash.

then it lunged straight at jaehyun.

he didn’t even see it coming. one second he was scanning the woods, the next he was thrown backward like a ragdoll, body skidding across the leaves with a brutal, sickening thud.

“jaehyun!” you yelled before you could stop yourself, feet moving without thinking.

the… thing, whatever it was, looked up. its sharp, angular face was stained with something dark. lips curled back in something that might have been a smile, or perhaps even a snarl. and just as fast as it had come, it froze. its head jerked to the side. 

a second later, a long, echoing howl cut through the forest from the far side of the ridge. not close. not here. but close enough.

the thing ran. it all happened so quickly, a streak of movement. gone in a blink.

you stumbled down the slope into the clearing, heart hammering in your chest. you didn’t stop until you were on your knees beside jaehyun, the man laying twisted on the ground, blood seeping through his shirt, arm clutching his ribs.

“jaehyun! hey—” you barely got the words out.

his eyes cracked open, brows furrowed in pain. “damn it, y/n… i told you…”

“yeah,” you whispered, “you did.”

“you okay?” his voice was faint.

“don’t worry about me. you’re bleeding, you idiot.”

behind you, flashlights bobbed. officers were shouting again, voices rising, some asking you what you were doing here, others calling for backup, for a medic, for anything.

you didn’t answer.

you looked down at jaehyun’s wound, hand pressing against his side, trying to stop the bleeding. your own hands were shaking, but your mind stayed level.

you knew what you saw. even if you didn’t have the words for it yet.

__

you couldn’t remember the last time you’d sat in a hospital. maybe it was when you were nine, trying not to cry while a nurse stitched up the gash above your knee, bloodied from the jagged edge of a beer bottle someone had carelessly tossed in the grass. maybe it was a few years later, when you were twelve and camped out in the corner of an emergency room waiting area, your legs numb from sitting too long while your brother’s broken arm was wrapped and casted after a bad fall.

it didn’t matter, not really. because no matter how much time had passed, or how much had changed, the hospital still felt the same.

the air still smelled faintly of bleach and something too clean to be natural. the lights were still too bright, humming above you in a low, steady drone that crawled under your skin. the chairs were still too stiff, and everything felt like it was waiting to go wrong.

you sat at jaehyun’s bedside, one leg folded underneath the other, your hoodie still dusty from the woods and stained with sap. he lay reclined, torso slightly elevated, breathing with that ragged hitch that came from bruised ribs. a tree branch had pierced him clean through the side, the attending nurse said. it narrowly missed anything vital. now, his abdomen was wrapped in thick gauze, layers of medical tape crisscrossing like patchwork over skin still raw and angry. his temple was bandaged too, though blood had already seeped into the edge of the white wrap, staining it a dull, wet red. his hair was matted with dried leaves and sweat.

but he was alive. he was okay.

“you look like shit,” you said quietly, voice barely above a murmur.

jaehyun cracked open one eye, his lips twitching in a half smile that winced into a grimace.

“thanks. real comforting.”

you didn’t laugh. neither did he.

there was a thin iv line running down from his arm, the bag above it slowly dripping clear liquid like the seconds ticking by.

outside the door, nurses moved quietly up and down the corridor, shoes squeaking against linoleum. distant voices filtered in from the front desk.

but inside the room, it was just the two of you.

you leaned back in the plastic chair, eyes drifting toward the heart monitor beside his bed. the soft blip of his pulse steadied you more than you cared to admit.

“you should’ve stayed home,” he murmured after a beat.

“you should’ve let me come with you,” you replied.

his head lolled slightly toward you. “i’m a cop, y/n. don’t be ridiculous.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “can you blame me? you’re the only thing i have left, jae.”

he didn’t say anything at first. not a nod, not a hum. just the quiet sound of his breathing, strained but steady. maybe he thought you were being dramatic. maybe he didn’t want to admit that he understood. 

but you weren’t just being dramatic.

the thought of losing the only person you had left made your stomach turn. it wasn’t just fear. it was dread. that cold, creeping kind that wrapped itself around your ribs and sat heavy on your chest.

in the silence, your thoughts began to slip again. racing, spiraling, trying to make sense of the night. it almost didn’t feel real. this morning you were starting your first day back at forks high. and now you were sitting in a hospital, watching blood pool under gauze, your body still vibrating from adrenaline.

when your mind finally circled back to the thing you saw in the woods, your mouth went dry. you looked down at your hands, then back at jaehyun.

“did you…” your voice came quiet, careful. “did you see anything out there?”

he was still for a long moment. then he exhaled slowly, gaze drifting toward the ceiling.

“no,” he said, shaking his head once. “like i told the guys, I don’t remember much of anything.”

the second you got to the hospital, before they let you anywhere near his room, two officers pulled you aside for questioning. you hesitated. you could’ve said what you saw, could’ve told them about the blur, the red eyes, the flash of blackness in the trees. but the words never made it past your lips.

you said it was an animal. a coyote. maybe a fox. a lie, soft and simple, easy to understand. the truth sounded crazy. were you crazy? could you have just been tired? sleep deprived?

still, part of you wanted to say it now. if there was anyone in this town you could trust, it was jaehyun. 

just as you parted your lips, the door clicked open.

a man stepped inside. tall. pale. a stark contrast to the warm lighting of the hospital room. his presence quieted everything instantly. he was beautiful, objectively so.

sharp features, a clean jawline, skin smooth like porcelain. his hair was dark and neatly styled, not a strand out of place. his coat hung perfectly on his frame, white as fresh snow. a stethoscope looped loosely around his collar. in his hands was a clipboard, clutched lightly like it weighed nothing. but it was his eyes that caught you off guard. not blue. not brown. gold.

he smiled faintly as his eyes flicked between you and jaehyun. polite. professional. practiced.

“officer jeong,” he said in a voice as smooth as his appearance. “how are we feeling?”

jaehyun offered a weak, lopsided grin, wincing slightly. “like i lost a wrestling match to a tree.”

the doctor chuckled gently, the sound soft and perfectly timed. “well, considering the size of the branch that went through your side, that’s not far off.”

he stepped forward, flipping open the clipboard and giving the chart a brief glance, though it felt more like a formality than necessity.

“dr insung,” he added, extending a hand to you without looking up. “you must be his sister.”

you paused for just a second before shaking it. you recognized him immediately. your conversation with megan, lara and manon in the school cafeteria rang through your mind. his grip was cool, firm, and deliberate. not too tight, not too soft. calculated.

“uh… no. just a family friend,” you said quickly, not wanting to unpack everything in front of jaehyun’s attending physician.

“of course,” he said, glancing at you now with that same unreadable calm. “you were with him when the incident happened, correct?”

you nodded slowly. “yeah.”

his eyes stayed on you a beat longer than necessary, as if reading something behind your expression. and then he smiled again, this time softer. less clinical.

“you’ve had a long day. i imagine your nerves are still in overdrive,” he said, gently folding the clipboard closed. “it’s not uncommon for the brain to fill in gaps with…” he paused, as if searching for the right word. “spectacular things. especially in moments of panic. it’s a defense mechanism, in a way. it makes the fear easier to process.”

you blinked. your mouth stayed shut. you hadn’t said a thing about what you saw. not to him. not even to jaehyun. not one word. his voice. his posture. the way he somehow already knew what had been playing on a loop in your mind. it made your skin crawl, but not out of fear. not exactly.

he knew something, you could feel it. and maybe, just maybe, he knew that you knew too.

dr insung smiled again like he hadn’t just said something deeply unnerving. like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“fortunately,” he continued, “officer jeong is stable. he’ll need to stay a few days for observation, but there’s no internal bleeding. we’ll keep him comfortable.”

jaehyun muttered a low, “great,” and tried not to grimace as he shifted in the bed.

but you couldn’t look away from dr insung. even as he gave a final polite nod and turned to leave, even as his hand brushed the doorframe on his way out, your eyes followed him. it was the kind of lingering that wasn’t just instinct. it was compulsion. maybe it was because of how his gaze met yours just before he left, held for a second too long, like he was saying something wordless behind the curve of that careful smile. then he was gone. 

for a moment you simply sat there. you wanted so badly to follow him, to get answers, but the battered body of jaehyun beside you kept you rooted. 

a second passed, then another, before finally you pulled yourself together.

“i’m gonna head out for a sec,” you murmured after a short wait, standing from the chair beside jaehyun’s bed.

he didn’t question it, didn’t even lift his head. just let out a sleepy hum, the medication clearly pulling him under.

the halls outside the hospital room were quiet, soft lights buzzing overhead. your sneakers squeaked faintly on the vinyl floor as you walked with no real direction, only instinct. the need to know propelled you forward, and maybe you didn’t expect to actually find him, not really. but you did.you stopped short when you turned a corner. just ahead, tucked half in shadow, stood dr. insung. and he wasn’t alone.

sophia.

it hit you all at once, the sight of her. the sleek black coat wrapped tightly around her shoulders, dark curls spilling like ink over the collar. she stood with her arms crossed, her posture rigid, like she’d rather be anywhere else. her head tilted slightly toward insung as he spoke to her in a low, measured voice. but it wasn’t friendly, that much was clear.

your feet rooted to the floor, ears straining to catch a word. you couldn’t make out specifics. just tone, tension. the sharp edge in sophia’s voice when she interrupted him, the way insung kept his hands clasped neatly behind his back, posture unwavering.

and then, like gravity itself had shifted, sophia’s eyes flicked past insung’s shoulder, right to you. your breath caught. she saw you, the same way she had in the cafeteria. only now there was no crowd between you. no chatter. no noise to blur the moment. and god, she looked even more stunning up close. annoyed, sure. irritated, absolutely. but her eyes latched onto yours like they had every right to be there. your stomach twisted, and you couldn’t look away.

something passed between you then. an unspoken dare, like she knew you were eavesdropping, and part of her dared you to keep listening.

sophia’s eyes cut toward insung like a blade. whatever he said to her, you hadn’t caught it. just the low thrum of voices echoing in the narrow hospital hallway. but the tension was impossible to miss. she stood rigid, arms crossed over her chest, her expression drawn tight with irritation, possibly even contempt. insung, on the other hand, looked calm. too calm. his voice was gentle, almost musical, yet there was an unmistakable edge beneath it, like a warning wrapped in velvet. the soft cadence of his words wasn’t meant for you, but somehow you felt it was. like he’d spoken loud enough for a reason.

then he turned, sensing your presence before you’d even made a sound.

“ah,” he said, voice smooth. “miss y/l/n. i was hoping you’d find your way.”

you blinked. “you were?”

he smiled again. placid. practiced. unreadable. “only because it’s late. it’s easy to get lost in unfamiliar places. especially after a long night.”

your eyes flicked to sophia, whose jaw had gone rigid. she was staring at insung now with pure annoyance, like she’d just realized she was being maneuvered and hated it.

“you should get some rest,” he continued, then glanced at sophia. “would you mind taking her home?”

sophia didn’t answer right away. there was a pause, long enough for the tension to thrum again between them. her eyes narrowed, but then she nodded. once.

“fine,” she said quietly. clipped.

you didn’t miss the way her body went rigid when insung turned his back and walked off, white coat billowing behind him like smoke. sophia looked at you then. sharp, indifferent. the quiet, barely concealed frustration still buzzing beneath her skin. 

“let’s go.”

you followed.

‎ 

the silence in the car wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was suffocating. it pressed in from all sides, thick and deliberate, like it had been invited in and asked to stay. it had weight to it. you sat still in the passenger seat, the seatbelt stiff across your chest as the silver volvo cut cleanly through the empty roads of forks.

“you should put your seatbelt on.” you found yourself saying before you could stop yourself.

sophia had long since pulled out of the hospital parking lot, her pretty face guarded so well you couldn’t even begin to decipher what she might have been thinking at that very moment. her car was spotless. every surface gleamed, even in the faint light of the dashboard. its leather seats looked like they’d never seen a touch of dust or grime, its padding soft beneath you. the interior smelled faintly of pine and something sharper, sterile almost, like the inside of a high end clinic. everything was in place. immaculate. like no one had ever really sat in it before.

for the briefest second, the faint hint of a smile tilted the corner of her lips. nothing that indicated happiness, but rather amusement. nonetheless, she swiftly listened to you. her hands moved deftly as she clipped her seatbelt into place. 

it was when her hand gently flew past yours over the middle console did you feel your body stiffen, however. your hand, once gently resting on your side, felt a breeze so cold you couldn’t help but recoil it back into your sleeve. her hand was freezing. a numbing, concerning kind of cold that had your eyes blowing wide, darting to stare at incredulously.

“you’re freezing!”

sophia didn’t say a word. her posture was perfect, hands relaxed on the wheel, eyes never straying from the road. even her blinker clicked with intention. no wasted movement, no sudden jerks. her presence filled the car more than the sound ever could have. composed. as cold as her hands. 

after a moment, she finally exhaled as if she’d just remembered she was supposed to breathe.

“it happens.” she explained lamely. 

it was short, but her voice made your heart skip a beat anyway. she sounded like honey, dripping slow and rich, but cooled at the edges. like something sweet pulled from the freezer, still beautiful but impossible to touch without flinching.

you watched her hands on the wheel. long fingers, smooth skin, knuckles pale from the cold. you weren’t imagining it. she was ice. not just chilly. not just cold from the air. it radiated off her, a kind of stillness that felt unnatural.

“you should keep gloves in the car,” you said softly, not sure why you said anything at all. maybe just to hear her speak again.

sophia gave a quiet huff, almost a laugh but not quite. “gloves don’t help.”

you furrowed your brow. “what do you mean?”

she didn’t answer. not right away. instead, she leaned into the next turn, the car curving smoothly along the road, headlights sweeping across the trees like searchlights. her eyes stayed ahead, focused, impossibly calm.

“some things just stay cold,” she said finally. “doesn’t matter what you wrap them in.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. something about the way she said it made your chest tighten, like the words meant more than they were letting on.

you turned your gaze back to the road. she hadn’t raised her voice once. hadn’t shifted her posture, hadn’t let anything slip. but still, you felt it. the weight of her. like gravity bending in the shape of a girl.

you could hear the tires crunch against gravel whenever the pavement broke apart. the hum of the engine was almost too quiet, as if the car wasn’t even really running. and yet it moved. you turned your head just slightly, studying her out of the corner of your eye. her face was calm, unreadable, the same one she’d worn at the hospital. beautiful in that effortless, almost cruel way. you half expected her to break the silence, to ask you something, to say anything.

then her eyes met yours suddenly.

they caught the light from the dashboard, shining bright gold. not hazel, not amber. gold. like melted metal. like sunlight through a bottle. it was the kind of color you’d never seen in a human eye before. unnatural, but not in a loud way. subtle. deliberate. like whoever had them wanted you to notice, but only if you were really looking.

you were.

it struck you as strange. jarring, even. not just because of how vivid the color was, but because you’d seen it before, not even ten minutes ago in jaehyun’s hospital room. 

dr insung. 

he’d looked at you with those same golden eyes, calm and clinical and just a little too knowing. and sophia, well, she was his daughter. adopted, manon said. yet here was this strange, gleaming sameness between them. something no paperwork could explain.

you looked back at her, really looked. the curve of her lashes. the way her irises seemed to glow faintly in the dark, almost reflective, like a cat’s. like they didn’t just catch the light, they absorbed it. held it. turned it into something else.

your stomach twisted, just slightly.

there was something in her stillness. something too perfect. too measured. she didn’t blink as much as people usually did. didn’t fidget. didn’t shift in her seat when the car hit a bump. her face was carved in calm, sharp and flawless like it had been painted on. no crease in her brow, no twitch at the corner of her mouth. just silence and gold eyes that didn’t give anything away.

you turned back toward the window, heart ticking a little faster. you didn’t know what it meant. maybe nothing. maybe everything. but the moment sank into your bones anyway, and you knew, without knowing why, that you wouldn’t be able to forget it.

the silence hung between you like a third passenger.

“you don’t have to drive me, you know,” you said, your voice low, just loud enough to be heard over the hush of the tires on wet asphalt.

sophia didn’t look at you. “i know.”

that was it. no explanation. no softening. you let out a breath, more tired than frustrated. the silence swallowed it whole.

the rest of the ride dragged in fragments. headlights cutting through mist, streetlights sliding past like fading ghosts. you watched the trees blur by, long fingers of pine stretching into the dark. every now and then, your eyes flicked toward her, searching for a crack in the calm. something to hold onto.

she never looked back.

“did i do something wrong..?” the words slipped out before you could catch them. quieter than you meant. almost fragile. like they’d been sitting just under your tongue for too long, waiting for the right kind of silence to crawl out of. your throat felt tight. you hated how soft you sounded.

sophia didn’t flinch. didn’t blink.

“what an absurd question,” she said, voice smooth and flat, like marble.

you let out a dry laugh, but it didn’t land right. “that’s exactly what i’m talking about. did i do something to piss you off? or are you just always this… stabby?”

still, no reaction. not even a glance. her eyes stayed locked on the road, unbothered, like she hadn’t heard you at all. but she had. you knew she had. she just chose not to answer. her silence made the air feel thicker. like the car was shrinking around you inch by inch.

you watched her jaw tighten, just barely. the only giveaway that she was even made of muscle and not glass. she looked so composed, so contained, like the question hadn’t scraped against anything inside her. like nothing could.

you didn’t realize you were already in jaehyun’s driveway until the car began to slow, the engine softening to a quiet hum before cutting out completely. the sudden stillness made your ears ring. headlights spilled across the front of the house, catching on the porch rail and the edge of the garage, painting everything in pale, artificial white.

you sighed and unbuckled your seatbelt, fingers stiff with the cold. “thanks for the ride, i guess.”

you hadn’t expected her to get out too. but the soft click of her door echoed behind you, and when you turned, she was already walking around the car. quiet, composed, as if this was something she did every day. like it was routine to escort someone to their door without speaking to them the entire drive.

you hesitated, watching her fall into step beside you. her boots barely made a sound on the driveway, movements precise, effortless. she didn’t look at you. didn’t offer an explanation. just walked.

it was strange, the way her presence lingered. like a shadow cast too long under the porch light. cold, yes, but steady. and for reasons you couldn’t explain, that steadiness made your chest ache a little.

you gave her a sidelong glance, trying to cover the sudden twist in your stomach with sarcasm. “how chivalrous.”

she didn’t smile. not even a twitch. but her eyes flicked toward you briefly, sharp and unreadable, before settling back on the path ahead.

as you reached the front door, your steps slowed, a sinking feeling already blooming in your chest. you reached for the knob out of habit, then stopped short, fingers hovering. right. no key. not yet.

you muttered a curse under your breath and turned away, embarrassed and already annoyed with yourself. “great,” you mumbled, making a beeline for the garage. “plan b.”

you crouched slightly and wrapped both hands around the bottom of the rolling door, gave it a solid tug. nothing. it groaned a little, but didn’t budge. you tried again, gritting your teeth. still nothing.

behind you, sophia sighed. it was quiet but unmistakable, the kind of sigh people gave when they were watching something mildly pathetic unfold. before you could snap at her, she stepped past you. no comment, no look. she just reached down, took hold of the edge of the garage door with one hand, and pulled. the metal creaked, shuddered, and then rose like it had been greased. she stopped halfway, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you blinked at her, stunned. “what are you, hulk hogan?”

she didn’t answer. didn’t even acknowledge the question. just let go of the door and turned to wait for you to go inside, like lifting a whole garage was a thing anyone could do on a monday night.

ducking under the door, you stepped into the garage and flipped on the light. the overhead bulb flickered weakly before settling into a steady glow, stretching long shadows across the cold concrete floor. the old blue truck sat parked, a familiar presence in the quiet space. you moved carefully around it, mindful not to catch the side mirror.

sophia stepped in behind you, silent as ever.

“you didn’t have to come in,” you said without turning, glancing back.

“i know,” she replied shortly.

sophia’s gaze immediately dropped to your truck. her eyes narrowed slightly, sharp and deliberate, like she was reading something hidden beneath the chipped paint and worn edges. then she hummed low, tilting her head as her eyes locked onto something odd.

“where’s your jack?” she asked, voice quiet but precise.

you frowned, running a hand over the truck’s side. “jack?”

“the tool. for changing tires. shouldn’t you have one?” her eyes flicked to the back corner of the garage, where tools usually lived. her tone wasn’t mocking. more like she was cataloging details, checking off what was missing.

you hesitated, then reached behind the tire and grabbed the worn metal handle of the jack. as you lifted it, your fingers brushed against hers for the second time. the cold hit you first, sharp and biting, like an ice shard pressed to your skin. a numbing chill crawled under your skin and made you instinctively pull your hand back, clutching it close to your chest.

if she noticed it, she didn’t care. she knelt and did something you’re not sure what. when she stood a few moments later, she hummed.  “wrench.”

you stupidly follow her instruction and hand over the wrench. sophia’s fingers close around it without hesitation, smooth and confident as if it were an extension of herself. she crouched by the tire, her movements precise and practiced despite the truck’s worn, tired frame. you watched her inspect the tire like she was reading a story etched into the cracked rubber and rusted rim.

after a long moment, she straightened and let out a low hum, eyes flicking back to you with a weight you couldn’t quite place.

“lug nuts are stripped,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “wouldn’t hold much longer. this truck’s not going anywhere like this.”

you shifted uneasily, suddenly aware of how beaten down the truck looked under her sharp gaze.

“it was sitting in a scrapyard,” you said quietly, your voice rougher than you expected. “needs more than a wrench, i guess.”

her eyes narrowed just slightly. “looks ancient. you could probably sell it for spare cash, if you wanted.”

you felt the weight of those words like a slap. you bristled, jaw tightening. “it’s priceless.”

“garbage,” she said, blunt and unflinching, like stating a fact no one wanted to admit.

“it was my brother’s.” your voice was barely above a whisper, fragile and raw. you swallowed hard, the knot in your throat tightening as the weight of the words settled over you.

for a long moment, sophia didn’t say anything. she just stood there, the jack and wrench forgotten on the cracked concrete floor at her feet. her gold eyes didn’t waver. instead, they scanned you slowly, cold and precise, as if trying to read something deeper beneath the surface. then she clicked her tongue against her cheek, a small, sharp sound that cut through the silence.

“he’s dead,” she deadplanned flatly. no softness, no sympathy in her voice. just a quiet, brutal fact, stated like it was the simplest thing in the world. as if saying it any other way would be a lie.

the words hit you harder than you expected, colder than the night air pressing in through the open garage door. and yet, in that moment, her detachment felt less like cruelty and more like a strange kind of understanding. the kind that comes from knowing pain without needing to dress it up.

the silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, before sophia finally broke it. her voice was low, almost a murmur, but carried an unmistakable edge of command.

“why don’t i help you?”

you blink, caught off guard, unsure if you heard her right. “huh?”

her gaze didn’t waver, steady and unyielding, like a predator sizing you up. “don’t make me repeat myself.”

there was no invitation in her tone, no room for argument. it wasn’t a question. it was a statement. cold, deliberate, and somehow impossible to ignore. her honey eyes held something unreadable, something maddeningly calculated.

you swallowed. you knew something was wrong here. if the words lara, megan and manon told you at lunch meant anything, the girl standing before you now wasn’t offering to help you out of kindness. they just stick to themselves, the words rang through your mind like the echo of a broken radio. 

“no, i mean, i heard you. just... why?” you ask, confused.

her eyes lock onto yours, sharp and steady. serious, unreadable, like she’s weighing something far beyond your words. there’s no hint of warmth, no trace of explanation, just that quiet certainty that leaves no room for doubt.

after a long beat, she finally speaks, voice low and even. “i know a thing or two about cars.”

the words were plain, but the way she said them made your pulse skip. there was something coiled beneath them. something unreadable, like she wasn’t just talking about engines and bolts. it felt like an offer, a warning, and a promise all tangled into one. you stared at her, searching her face for anything soft. anything familiar. there was nothing.

“you don’t talk a lot, do you,” you said finally, voice almost light but not quite. more like testing the edge of something sharp.

sophia’s mouth pulled at the corners, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“maybe i just don’t have anything nice to say.”

she turned before you could come up with a response, dark hair catching the light as she moved. her footsteps were silent, unnervingly so, and for a second you wondered if you imagined the whole thing. if she’d ever been there at all.

but then, just before she crossed the threshold of the garage, she stopped. didn’t look back. didn’t shift.

“i’ll be back tomorrow,” she said. not a question. not a suggestion. just a statement of fact, carved into the air like stone. “don’t make me regret it.”

and then she was gone.

just like that. swallowed by the cold and the dark and the stillness outside. you stood there, alone in the garage, the jack and wrench still on the floor.

you didn’t know what just happened. you didn’t know what she wanted. but you knew one thing.

sophia laforteza wasn’t like anyone else in forks.

__

sophia had grown used to the noise. the way it clung to her like a second skin, thick and inescapable, pressing into her mind at all hours, without pause or mercy. every room she entered came alive with other people’s thoughts, overlapping and chaotic, a hundred separate voices folded into one unbearable hum. it was worse in crowded places, where the chatter grew louder, more intrusive, the boundaries between herself and others dissolving until she couldn’t tell where their wants ended and her exhaustion began.

she never knew peace. not the real kind, anyway. not the kind that came from being alone in your own head, untethered from the noise of the world. she would have given anything for it. a day, even an hour, where she could sit in a room and hear nothing but herself. there were nights she would run out into the forest surroundings forks and climb one of the tallest trees, just to obtain the illusion of quiet. but even then, the thoughts leaked through walls and floors and skin. they never stopped.

and then she saw you.

you were sitting with your friends, girls she briefly recognized from their banter and the way their thoughts would have her chuckling inadvertently whenever her mind would start to wander. your eyes swept the cafeteria slowly, almost warily, and in that moment, sophia felt it. not a thought. not even a flicker. just silence. pure and uninterrupted.

at first, she thought she’d missed something. a gap between words, a pause in a sentence. but when she focused, really focused, she heard nothing. no voice, no mental static, no vague emotional bleed. it was like staring at a wall where a window should be. like reaching for a sound that simply didn’t exist.

the silence unnerved her.

her brow twitched, just slightly, and for the first time in a very long time, sophia found herself uncertain. it wasn’t just that she couldn’t read you. it was that your mind didn’t even register in the way others did. it was as if something around you bent the noise, redirected it, left a void where there should have been something loud and obvious. everyone else in the cafeteria was an open book, pages fluttering in the wind. you were a locked journal with no title and no key.

the moment your gaze locked, something coiled tight in her stomach. she didn’t know what it was. not attraction, not exactly, but not indifference either. it was too precise, too sharp, too curious. the silence around you wasn’t peaceful like she had always imagined peace would be. it was the kind of quiet that made her ears ring, the kind that made her question whether it was silence at all or just something hidden too deep for her to reach.

it made her angry.

maybe it was irrational, but it didn’t matter. she’d lived decades surrounded by noise she never asked for, carrying the weight of every whisper and thought and cruel passing judgment. she endured it without question, never once allowed to forget how different she was from everyone else. and now here you were, some strange anomaly. a person she couldn’t hear, couldn’t predict, couldn’t reduce to a handful of errant thoughts. it made her feel off balance. it made her feel vulnerable.

she watched you the way a scientist watches a specimen under glass, searching for the catch, the flaw, the reason behind the impossible. she knew it was foolish to care. she knew she should look away and leave you alone, just another face in another forgettable crowd. but there was something about you that she couldn’t ignore, something that pulled at her in ways she had no name for.

in all the years since insung changed her, sophia had never experienced anything like this. she had never been able to separate her own mind from the minds of others, never known where she ended and everyone else began.

but when you looked at her, when your eyes met hers across the cafeteria… she felt, for a breathless moment, like she existed only within herself.

and for someone like sophia, that feeling was more dangerous than anything else in the world.

by the time she finally got back to the house she called ‘home’, it was pitch dark out.

the engine to her volvo barely cooled before the front door eased open, as if the house had been holding its breath. sophia stepped inside, her boots meeting the polished wood floor with a dull sound, muffled by the heavy quiet that always seemed to settle. outside, the forest stretched thick and endless in every direction, tall evergreens cloaking them in layers of green and shadow. the house sat hidden among them, tucked far beyond the beaten paths, where no uninvited eyes would ever wander. it was a place meant to be forgotten by the world. and it had been. the house itself was a contradiction. all open space and glass walls, as though it was made to be seen, and yet somehow it remained invisible, hidden by the wilderness around it. light from within spilled softly onto the wraparound deck, glowing pale against the moss covered stone steps. inside, the scent of cedar and worn leather books wrapped around her like a memory. old and grounding. a little too clean. a little too still.

she paused just past the threshold, shrugging off her jacket with slow fingers. every movement felt heavier than it should have. her eyes adjusted quickly to the low, golden light spilling from the tall fixtures in the living room. she didn’t need to look up to know she wasn’t alone.

daniela was perched on the arm of one of the long couches, arms folded, expression unreadable, a magazine discarded in her lap. yoonchae stood beside the tall windows, half shrouded in shadow, gaze fixed somewhere deep in the woods. they had been waiting.

sophia hated being expected.

the air between them was thick with silence, the kind that presses in, waiting to be broken. neither spoke for a long moment. then, finally, daniela’s voice cut through the stillness.

“well?” she said, her eyes sharp, watching sophia like she was waiting for a verdict. “did you scare her off?”

“she’s not scared. she doesn’t have a clue anything’s even going on.”

“not yet,” yoonchae chimed quietly.

“did she say anything?” daniela pressed, shifting on the armrest, eyes never leaving sophia.

“not about the woods,” sophia answered, voice low and steady. “not about what she saw.”

daniela hummed thoughtfully, tapping her fingers against her knee. “but she saw something.”

“of course she did,” yoonchae replied, her tone cold and sure. “the nomad didn’t cover his tracks.”

sophia said nothing. she knew exactly what yoonchae meant.

it wasn’t like she planned to venture far into port angeles that night all those days ago. when it came time to feed, sophia preferred to hunt quietly, keeping to the outskirts where the shadows thickened and the city’s pulse slowed. like her sisters and insung, she had relied on animal blood for as long as she could remember. an old habit, a careful discipline. it kept them hidden, kept the worst of the hunger at bay.

but that night, something had been different.

drawn by a scent, a subtle disturbance in the forest’s rhythm, sophia had followed a trail deeper than usual, further from the familiar edges of the woods. the moon was low, casting long silver fingers through the trees, painting the undergrowth in shades of gray and black.

she hadn’t expected to cross paths with anyone, let alone a nomad. a vampire who hunted recklessly, with no allegiance and no care for consequences.

it was an accident, pure and simple. a collision of fate and hunger that left her breath caught in her throat and her senses on high alert.

the nomad hadn’t tried to hide. no clever cover-ups, no careful retreat into the night. just careless, brutal presence. a reminder that the balance they all lived by was fragile, easily shattered.

sophia had slipped away before the worst could happen, but the encounter left its mark. the nomad saw her. looked her in the eyes, didn’t move to follow her as she darted back away further into the forests of forks until she was within safer hunting grounds.

she knew now the nomad was out there, roaming those woods, and the quiet edges of their world were anything but safe. 

a part of her couldn’t shake the guilt, especially since she’d just driven you home. you, whose guardian now lay in the hospital because of that very nomad. maybe he would have come to forks anyway, an inevitable pitstop on his path. or maybe, just maybe, he was following her.

that thought alone was enough to tighten the coil of unease deep inside her.

she moved past them toward the stairs, her steps measured but heavy. just as she reached the landing, daniela’s voice called after her.

“so… what’s she like?”

sophia paused, hand resting on the banister, but didn’t turn.  “quiet,” she said simply.

she didn’t need to elaborate for them to know what she meant. the reaction was immediate.

“you couldn’t hear her?” yoonchae asked, stepping away from the window, her posture straightening as if trying to read the air around them.

sophia glanced back over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. “nothing. no whisper. no static. it’s like she’s… soundproofed.”

daniela and yoonchae exchanged a look. quick, almost imperceptible, but loaded with meaning. a silent conversation passed between them, a shared understanding only they could read.

“so what’s insung’s angle? now he’s hoping you’ll get close to her?” daniela’s tone was casual, but the sharp edge beneath it cut clear. “that’s new.”

“i’m not getting close to anyone,” sophia said firmly. “i did what he asked. she’s home. she hasn’t talked. that’s all that matters.”

“for now,” yoonchae said softly, the warning hanging in the air.

sophia looked at them both. her sisters, calm and collected in their practiced way. there was a rhythm to their family, a code written in silence and secrets. but this girl, you, were a disruption. an unknown factor that unsettled their carefully ordered world.

“he wants to talk to you,” daniela said, sliding down from the armrest to stand, her eyes narrowing slightly.

sophia didn’t say anything else. she didn’t need to. the house seemed to hum with his presence, a quiet tension threading through the air like electricity. insung was there, waiting, beyond the door at the very end of the long hallway, in the room farthest from the front entrance. he must have returned home not long after you and sophia left the hospital.

she knew he’d heard everything. he’d heard her the moment her volvo’s tires whispered over the gravel driveway, had felt her presence like a ripple through the stillness. but it wasn’t him who would make the first move. that was always sophia’s burden.

with a soft, resigned sigh, she stepped forward.

her boots left dark smudges on the polished wood floor, a trail of dampness she made no effort to wipe away. the quiet scrape of leather against wood echoed faintly as she crossed the threshold into the sanctuary of his office.

there was no knock, no hesitation. insung didn’t flinch, didn’t even glance at the door.

she found him standing by the vast wall of windows behind his desk, hands folded calmly behind his back. his gaze was fixed on the forest beyond, the same woods that hid more than just shadows. the room was bathed in the muted glow of twilight filtering through the trees, casting long, stretching shadows across dark wood.

insung’s presence filled the space, steady, controlled, impossible to ignore. sophia felt the weight of it settle around her like a cloak, heavy but familiar.

“did you take y/n home safe?” insung’s voice floated in from the far end of the open space, calm in the way that only made her jaw tighten.

“yeah,” she said. “tucked her in, kissed her forehead, checked under her bed for monsters. all clear.”

he didn’t turn around. “don’t deflect.”

“don’t patronize.”

that got his attention. insung turned to face her, expression unreadable but eyes sharper than usual. “i asked you to do one thing.”

“no,” she said, stepping closer, “you asked me to babysit a human girl i’ve never spoken to, after dropping vague orders in a hospital hallway like we were back in seoul during the raids.”

“sophia—”

“you should’ve gone yourself,” she snapped. “if she saw the nomad, if she’s a risk, then it’s your problem, not mine.”

“it is yours,” he said, quietly but firmly. “you’re the only one the nomad saw.”

she fell still, the silence between them stretching thin.

“you think he’ll come back,” she said after a moment, softer now.

“i know he will.” insung stepped away from the window, voice low. “he caught your scent. he’s a wanderer, but he’s still a predator. he’ll come back to finish what he started.”

sophia dragged a hand through her hair, pacing a slow, frustrated circle in the center of the room. “so we track him down and kill him before he gets close again. you’ve done it before.”

“not with a human witness. not one who looked a vampire in the face and lived to remember it.”

“she hasn’t told anyone,” sophia muttered. “yet.”

insung watched her carefully. “and?”

“she’s not dangerous.”

insung’s gaze hardened. “you don’t know that.”

sophia looked away, hands curling into fists at her sides. the silence returned, stretching long and thin between them.

“i don’t like being used,” she said finally, voice low.

“i didn’t use you,” insung frowned. “i trusted you.”

she let out a breath, slow and tired. “same thing, sometimes.”

he didn’t argue. outside, the wind stirred through the trees. the forest watched with quiet eyes.

“if the nomad comes back,” sophia said after a long moment, “i’ll handle it.”

“not alone.”

she gave him a look. “you gonna stop me?”

his silence was enough. sophia moved toward the door of the office, her steps soft but sharp as she turned to leave. she knew yoonchae and daniela were probably listening in from whatever room of the house they holed up in, but she didn’t care. 

she disappeared, letting her feet carry her soundlessly out of the room and up the stairs. her footsteps were already fading, swallowed by the house and the forest beyond.

through all of it, she couldn't shake you from her mind. 

__

you didn’t expect her to actually follow through with her words the next day. 

school was cancelled, a nasty downpour the night before having caved in part of the roof near the front entrance. the announcement came early, just after sunrise, and you stared at the email for a while before letting yourself sink back into bed. if you were being honest, you felt a little disappointed.

you’d have much rather been at school. instead, you were home alone. once upon a time, the idea of skipping a day would’ve thrilled you. now, the silence felt heavier than it should have, the loneliness creeping in just as sharply as the cold seeping through the windows.

you’d need to stomach this loneliness until friday. 

jaehyun was still in the hospital. being in his house without him felt strange, wrong in a way you couldn’t quite name. it made your stomach twist, filled your chest with a nervous kind of energy that wouldn’t settle. maybe it was the stillness, or maybe it was something else. something a little darker. a little more superstitious.

and now here you were, standing in the middle of his garage in front of the old blue truck, hands on your hips as you studied the open hood like it might offer answers. the engine stared back, silent and stubborn. the garage door was wide open behind you, letting in the cold. rain tapped softly against the concrete and gravel outside. the quiet wasn’t so empty out here. it felt almost like company. 

you leaned over the truck, stretching to reach a bolt that had slipped into the tangle of metal and wires. your fingers brushed it, but your footing gave way, sending you lurching forward. your face was only inches from striking a jagged piece of metal jutting out from the bumper.

only, you didn’t hit it.

a cold hand caught you around the waist, steadying you with a quiet firmness that made your breath catch. you were pulled back gently, just enough to stop the fall, and the sudden closeness had your heart stumbling in your chest.

you turned in her arms, eyes lifting instinctively, already wide with surprise.

no amount of words could ever do sophia laforteza justice, especially not now, with her standing so close you could feel the cool brush of her breath. her beauty wasn’t just striking, it was disarming. your gaze flicked helplessly between the soft curve of her glossy lips and the sharp, unreadable gleam in her golden eyes. you tried to stop yourself, but it was like your body had a will of its own. heat crept up your neck and settled in your cheeks, and suddenly it was hard to remember how to breath.

after a beat, sophia stepped back, her expression giving nothing away. she withdrew her hand from your waist like your touch had stung her, as if the warmth of your skin was something she couldn’t bear.

“you should be more careful,” she said, voice flat,  bored.

“rright,” you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath.

sophia leaned over the open hood, her movements smooth and effortless. with barely a glance, she plucked the bolt from the engine with nimble fingers. she lingered for a moment, eyes scanning the mess of wires and metal, expression distant, thoughtful.

you couldn’t help watching her. the way the light hit her cheekbone. the quiet focus in her face. 

“what?”

her question made you jump, startled. 

“nothing,” you said quickly, shifting your weight onto the balls of your feet with a small, nervous hum. “i just didn’t think you’d actually come back.”

“i said i would.”

“sure, but… sometimes people say things just to be nice.”

sophia turned her head slightly, just enough to glance at you over her shoulder.

“would you have preferred i didn’t?”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t have to. the silence settled between you, quiet and telling.

sophia held your gaze for a second longer, then turned away without waiting for a reply. she moved around the truck with quiet purpose, her fingers brushing over wires and metal like she knew exactly what she was doing.

whatever she was doing, you didn’t understand it. not even a little. the parts might as well have been from a spaceship. still, there was something weirdly calming about watching her work. methodical, focused, silent. she didn’t fill the quiet with small talk, and somehow, that made her presence feel even louder.

“you said you know some things about cars?” you asked, half question and half statement, more to break the tension than anything else. 

she didn’t look up. “enough.”

you lingered by the passenger side, arms crossed loosely, watching as she tightened something with a firm click. the quiet stretched again, a little longer this time, and the more you stood there, the more her clipped replies started to grate.

“still as talkative as yesterday, i see.” you said, only half joking.

sophia didn’t look at you, but you saw her shoulders rise with a slow breath. she paused, tools resting in her hand.

“i just don’t waste words,” she said finally. “but if you’re asking…”

she straightened up and wiped her fingers on the side of her jeans, smearing a bit of grease across the fabric.

“i picked things up here and there. mostly from people i don’t see anymore.”

you caught the way her voice shifted at the end. not sad exactly, but distant. like the memories had teeth.

“they into cars?” you asked, a little softer now.

“one of them was,” she said, circling around to the driver’s side and popping the door open. “used to take things apart just to see if they could put them back together again. half the time they couldn’t. but i guess i paid more attention than i thought.”

you watched her settle into the seat, her fingers brushing over the steering wheel like she was remembering something she hadn’t planned to.

you waited a beat before speaking, not wanting to break whatever thread of memory was pulling her under. the rain kept falling outside, steady and low, tapping against the garage roof like a quiet reminder that the world was still moving.

“do you miss them?” you asked softly.

sophia’s hands stilled on the wheel. she glanced over at you, eyes sharper now, but there was something unreadable behind them.

“sometimes,” she said. “but not the people. just the parts of myself i lost with them.”

you weren’t sure how to respond, so you stayed quiet, letting the words hang between you.

after a moment, she pushed off from the seat and stood, stretching her arms above her head like she was shaking off more than just the cold.

“this truck’s going to be fine,” she said, her voice lighter now, almost like a promise. “you don’t have to worry.”

you nodded, feeling a little of the tight knot in your chest loosen.

“thanks,” you said, meaning it.

sophia gave a small, almost imperceptible nod before turning back to the engine, the tension in the garage easing like the rain outside slowing to a soft drizzle.

‎ 

you didn’t expect the rhythm that settled over the next few days. from tuesday through thursday, the routine stayed the same. sophia arrived early and left late. every moment you spent together felt like something rare and important, even if it was just small, quiet things.

bit by bit, you started to chip away at the walls she kept so tightly around herself. beneath the guarded surface, you caught glimpses of someone real. someone more than just the distant, untouchable girl you thought she was. the days blurred together in a quiet kind of montage. you weren’t much help when it came to the actual repairs, but sophia never seemed to mind. she did the work, sleeves pushed up, hair tied back, smudges of grease blooming across her hands and wrists like war paint. you stood nearby, passing her tools when she asked, learning the names by repetition.

“socket wrench,” she’d say without looking up.

you’d hesitate, glance at the cluttered tray, then hold something out. “this one?”

she’d take it, brush of fingers against yours, then nod. “close enough.”

sometimes she’d explain what she was doing, but only if you asked. 

“why are you tightening that again?”

“because the last person who touched this engine was clearly guessing.”

“was it you?“

she gave you a look, then cracked the faintest smile. or at least, the closest thing to a smile you’d ever seen yet. 

other times, the silence between you was companionable. she’d hum under her breath while working, not quite a tune but something steady and soft. you found yourself watching her more than you probably should have, fascinated by how sure her hands were, how focused her expression stayed even when something wasn’t going right.

it didn’t matter that she barely spoke unless you asked her something directly, or that most of her answers came out in short, clipped phrases. it didn’t matter that she moved through each day like she was carrying secrets she’d never let anyone touch. none of it made a difference. if anything, it just made her more magnetic.

you tried to focus on the truck. really, you did. but your eyes kept betraying you. they’d drift back to her face without permission, tracing the slope of her jaw, the way her brows pinched slightly when she concentrated. but it was her lips that you kept coming back to, over and over again.

plump and glossy, like she’d just bitten down on them. they caught the light in the strangest ways, like they were made to be noticed. it was infuriating. you’d look away, pretend to be fiddling with a wrench or wiping grease off your hands, only to glance back and find her in some new angle of lighting that made her look even more ethereal.

and still, she never seemed to notice. she never caught you staring, never called you out. maybe she didn’t care. maybe she was used to it.

whatever the reason, it left you feeling off balance. flustered in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. and yet, you kept your head together. kept handing her tools. kept watching her lips move when she muttered to herself under her breath.

you were in trouble, and you were starting to think you liked it.

wednesday had slipped by in a quiet rhythm of rain and the steady clink of tools against metal. sophia moved through the work like it was second nature, replacing parts, changing oil, hotwiring with a precision that left you wordless. her focus never wavered, eyes narrowed at the mess of wires beneath the hood, grease smudged across her knuckles.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that she spoke, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

“tell me about you,” she said, eyes still on the engine, not even glancing your way.

you blinked, thrown for a second by the suddenness of it.

“what do you want to know?”

“whatever you want to tell me.”

you hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. her tone was light, almost careless, but you knew she was listening. you could feel her attention like a thread pulled tight between you.

“and what about you?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “do i get any kind of peek into your life if i give you a glimpse into mine?”

this time, she did look at you. just for a second. long enough to make it clear she was weighing your words. then she gave a small nod, like a quiet agreement.

it was all the invitation you needed.

“i don’t know where to start,” you admitted, your voice soft.

“what happened to your brother?” she asked not even a second later. 

you flinched. not at the question itself, but at how directly she asked it. it was clearly a question she’d wanted to ask since monday. 

“getting right to the point, huh?”

“i don’t see the point in dancing around anything,” she said, tone even.

you let out a slow breath, your eyes drifting to the floor. the memory still hurt, raw in places you hadn’t expected.

“i don’t really know, if i’m being honest,” you said finally. “he was at work one minute, and the next i got a call saying he passed in transit. no details. just that it happened suddenly. cardiac arrest, i think. i didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

sophia didn’t say anything at first. just looked at you, expression unreadable.

“you would’ve wanted to?” she asked eventually.

“i mean… yeah. wouldn’t you?”

she went quiet again, her gaze dropping slightly. then she bit the inside of her cheek like she was holding something back.

“i think sometimes,” she started, her voice quieter now, “saying nothing is easier than saying goodbye forever. there’s nothing quite like the pain of looking someone in the eye, knowing it’s the last time you ever will.”

you studied her for a long moment.

“you’ve lost a lot of people?” you asked.

she nodded once, barely noticeable.

“a few that mattered,” she said. then she turned back to the engine like the conversation hadn’t just cracked something open between you. but you knew it had. you felt it.

trying to unravel sophia laforteza still hurt your brain, but it no longer felt impossible.

something had shifted. slowly, she was letting you in. not all at once and not in any way that made sense, but it was there. in the quiet moments, in the spaces between her words, in the way she asked things like they mattered.

she had this habit of looking at you sideways when you went quiet, her voice soft but steady.

“what are you thinking about?”

she asked it often. sometimes in the middle of a conversation, sometimes out of nowhere. it was as if she needed to know, like understanding what went on in your head helped her understand the world a little better too.

she listened with every part of her. even when her hands were occupied, buried in the engine or fiddling with wires, you could feel her attention anchored to your words. she’d nod slightly, make small noises of acknowledgment, ask follow up questions that made it clear she remembered every detail you’d told her the day before.

and you found yourself telling her more.

you told her about the ache that had lived in your chest since your brother died. how some days, it felt like carrying around a stone. how other days, you just felt numb. you told her about your favorite childhood memory. about the first time you got your heart broken. about the way forks made you feel like a stranger, even in places you were starting to remember from when you were a child.

she listened. always.

sometimes, she gave you pieces of herself too. not full stories, but fragments. a name she used to call someone. a place she said she’d never go back to. a song she hated because it reminded her of something she couldn’t forget.

but it was on thursday that everything shifted. 

the morning started like the ones before it. the sky was a dull stretch of grey, the rain falling in that soft, misty way forks seemed to specialize in. sophia showed up just past eight, same as always, with her hoodie pulled up and her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. she didn’t say much when she walked into the garage, she rarely did, but you could feel the difference in the air. something quiet was building.

you handed her the wrench she asked for, then watched as she crouched near the open hood. she was focused, more than usual. no humming under her breath, no questions. just quiet, deliberate work. you stood beside her, arms crossed and heart thudding with anticipation you didn’t quite understand.

finally, around midafternoon, she wiped her hands off on a rag and stepped back.

“get in,” she said simply, nodding toward the driver’s seat.

“what?”

“just turn the key. i want to see something.”

you glanced at the truck, then back at her. she looked calm, but you could see the flicker of something behind her eyes. hope, maybe.

you slid into the seat and wrapped your fingers around the cold metal of the keys. took a breath. turned.

the engine sputtered. coughed. and then, with a rough, ragged growl, it came to life.

your eyes went wide.

“holy shit,” you breathed, half laughing, half stunned. “you did it. it’s running.”

“not road ready yet,” sophia shrugged. “but the engine’s holding. better than i thought it would.”

you stared at her, something catching in your throat. before you could stop yourself, before you could even think twice, you turned the engine back off and stepped out of the car. you launched forward and wrapped your arms around her before she could fully register what you were doing. 

she was freezing cold, as usual. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

it wasn’t graceful. her body tensed immediately in your arms, caught off guard, but you didn’t pull away. you didn’t want to.

“thank you,” you whispered, voice muffled against her shoulder. “seriously. thank you.”

for a second, you thought she might recoil, might tell you to back off. but then, slowly, you felt her exhale, something close to surrender. her arms came up around you, hesitant.

when you pulled back to look up at her, however, that’s when you saw it. staring up at her now, you weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it sooner. 

the question slipped before you could stop it. 

“are you wearing contacts?”

sophia froze. it was so subtle that anyone else might’ve missed it. but you didn’t. not when she was standing so close to you, not when your arms moved from her shoulders down to your own sides. her posture went rigid, like someone had hit pause.

“what?”

you tilted your head, studying her more closely.

“your eyes,” you said slowly. “they’re… different today. they’re black.”

she didn’t blink. didn’t move. her face was unreadable, and for the first time since the hospital drive, the silence between you wasn’t comfortable. it was tight, almost suffocating.

“they were golden yesterday,” you added, your voice quieter now. “like, this really warm honey color. now they’re just… pitch black.”

she turned away from you, stepping back toward the truck. she reached for the rag she left on the trucks hood, busying herself with its flimsy fabric. 

“bad sleep,” she muttered. “happens sometimes. lighting’s weird in here anyway.”

but you knew it wasn’t the lighting. her answer, so clipped, so carefully neutral, only made the curiosity burn hotter.

“right,” you said, not quite believing her. “sure.”

she glanced back at you then, and her expression was tight. guarded.

“don’t read into things that aren’t there.”

you swallowed hard. something about her tone made a sharp pang shoot through you. it almost sounded like a warning. she was clearly trying to shut the conversation down. 

but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. no one’s eyes changed color like that. not from honey to ink overnight.

nonetheless, you nodded with a relenting shrug, pretending to let it go. if sophia noticed the hesitation in your silence, she didn’t say anything.

instead, she cleared her throat and turned back to face you. 

“anyway,” she said gently, like the last few minutes hadn’t happened, “think you could help me get the bumper back on the truck?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the shift. but maybe that was the point.

you followed her around the front end, where the dented bumper leaned awkwardly against the wheel well. you lifted your half of the metal sheeting carefully while she lifted the other, angling it upwards. but then you stopped. 

a sudden, sharp sting sliced through your hand. reflexively, you dropped your half with a sharp wince, your face tightening as pain flared. you’d grabbed the edge just wrong where a jagged corner pressed cruelly into your skin, cutting just deep enough that a thin line of blood welled up and began to drip. your free hand shot up instinctively, curling around the wounded one, fingers tightening into a protective grip as you pressed gently to stem the bleeding. the sting lingered, a sharp reminder that even small carelessness could leave its mark.

sophia stiffened, her eyes flickering to your hand.

“s-shit, sorry,” you muttered, biting back a grimace. “cut myself.”

you didn’t notice the shift in her, too absorbed in the sting and the sudden heat spreading through your palm, but it was there all the same.

sophia’s eyes stayed fixed on the thin ribbon of blood slowly welling from your hand. her breath caught, subtle but sharp, like the soft intake before a predator tenses to strike. except she didn’t move. she just watched, silent, her gaze unreadable but intense, like she was weighing something far beyond the simple cut. inside, sophia’s mind churned, a thousand quiet alarms flickering to life.

blood. the pulse of something alive, raw and undeniable. to her, it was a beacon in the dark. a soundless scream only creatures like her could hear. and you, standing there unaware, were bleeding right in front of her.

she fought the flicker of instinct that rose like a tide just beneath the surface. the hunger, the temptation, the ancient pull. it was the same rush she had felt countless times before, but this time it was tangled with something else, something unfamiliar and distracting. 

her eyes didn’t waver, but the weight behind them deepened. she was silent, still, but the room seemed to shrink around that bleeding hand. a tightness curled in her chest, a warning she barely understood herself. this wasn’t just a cut. it was a fracture in whatever fragile balance had brought you here.

then your voice, low and almost hesitant, broke the tension.

“… sophia?”

she blinked, caught off guard by the softness, the hesitance in your tone. for a fraction of a second, her mask cracked and you saw something flicker. something unreadable, raw. she swallowed hard, the moment stretching tight. 

then she turned away.

“i need to go.”

just like that, the fragile bubble shattered.

you watched her retreat from the garage, confusion tightening around your ribs. her figure slipped past the shadows, fading into the dim light beyond the open door. your gaze lingered on the empty space she’d left behind, questions hanging unsaid. by the time you blinked and reached for a clean rag, pressing it carefully over the cut on your hand, it was too late. you were a breath away from calling out to her, a “wait” hanging on the tip of your tongue. only when you turned, she was already gone.

no volvo in the driveway. no hum of an engine. just silence. and you, alone with the steady pulse in your palm and the louder, faster one in your chest.

but sophia knew.

her hands were clenched so tight around the steering wheel that the leather groaned beneath her grip. the moment the car peeled away from your street, the pressure in her chest exploded into something uncontainable. her foot slammed against the gas pedal, hard enough to make the tires threaten a screech. she hadn’t meant to look. hadn’t meant to breathe it in.

but god, it was everywhere. your blood in the air was static, sweet and warm and alive.

a curse left her under her breath, sharp and venom laced, because now she knew.

you were her bloodsinger.

the one scent that pierced every inch of restraint she’d built over a century. the one person whose blood called to her more than anything in the world.

and the one person she could never afford to be near again.

__

you barely slept.

your mind kept looping back to the moment in the garage, over and over, trying to stitch it together in a way that made sense. one second sophia was helping, quiet but present. the next, she looked at you like something broke inside her. like something changed. then she left, not just from the garage, but completely.

you took the bus to school the next morning, the scenery blurring past the window as your thoughts dragged behind. the email sent out by admin that morning had you lazily getting yourself ready, your hand throbbing faintly with every pulse, the bandage hidden in your sleeve. but it wasn’t the cut that bothered you. it was her.

by the time you made it to first period, it was obvious. sophia wasn’t there.

you tried not to care, you really did. but every empty chair you passed, every glance toward the hallway, every shift of footsteps behind you, it only made it worse.

worse still were the looks.

daniela sat near the windows during lunch, this time accompanied by a young korean girl. yoonchae, probably. they were quiet, unreadable. yoonchae toyed with a strand of her hair, eyes flicking up toward you now and then when she thought you weren’t looking. daniela barely touched her food. at one point, you thought you caught her whispering something, and though you couldn’t hear it, you felt it had to do with you.

you thought about asking them. hey, have you seen sophia?  but the words never made it out of your mouth. it felt like if you asked, you’d be confirming that something was wrong.

so you didn’t. not for the entire week that she was missing. 

a week. that’s how long it had been since you last saw her.

her absence stitched through the days like a thread you couldn’t pull loose, and it was starting to wear on you. you weren’t even sure why it bothered you so much. 

she’d been nothing but cold. polite when she had to be, distant when she didn’t. her words, when she used them, came clipped and careful, like she was always weighing what not to say. you couldn’t remember a single moment where she’d genuinely smiled at you. not really. not in the way that would make someone miss her this much.

maybe it was those strange moments that stuck with you. like the quiet hum you caught under her breath when she thought no one was listening. there’d been flickers of something softer beneath all that guarded silence, a flick of her gaze lingering a second too long, the way her fingers brushed yours when you handed over a wrench and she didn’t pull away right away. nothing obvious. nothing she’d ever admit to.

but enough to make you wonder.

maybe you’d just grown fond of the mystery. or maybe it was the way she made the world feel tilted sideways, like something was just out of reach but still waiting to be found.

either way, her absence was louder than it should’ve been. you were starting to hate how much space she’d taken up without even trying.

sure enough, your friends were starting to notice. 

they cornered you during lunch, plopping down at your usual table like they were staging an intervention. lara crossed her arms, staring you down.

“okay, spill. you’ve been moody all week. who took a shit in your cereal?”

you stabbed at your salad with the kind of intensity that probably answered her question before you even opened your mouth.

“it’s nothing.”

“please,” lara scoffed. “you’re more obvious than megan when she was sneaking out of classes to do crack in the bathrooms.”

megan gasped. “i have never done crack!”

“relax, mei. i just like spreading misinformation. we all know you were skipping classes to meet with—”

“okay, okay,” megan cut in fast, waving her hands. “let’s not talk about him, yeah? god, i’d rather you accused me of doing cocaine. thinking about him gives me chills.”

“so.” manon leaned in, eyes curious, her chin propped on her hand. “what’s going on?”

you hesitated, picking at a thread on your sleeve. it was stupid. it felt stupid. but your chest was heavy with it.

“well… i’ve been getting help from someone with repairing my brother’s car. but she’s been a no show all week. i think i might’ve done something to scare her away.”

lara raised a brow. “who?”

you sighed. “…sophia.”

lara blinked. “you’re shitting me.”

“no,” you said quickly, wincing. “i’m being serious. please don’t make it a big deal, i don’t know if i can deal with another headache.”

lara snorted. “what did you do? did you overshare one too many traumatic secrets?”

“did you call her by another girl’s name?” manon added with a smirk.

megan grinned, eyes sparkling. “maybe she’s just hiding from you because her big, bad, icey heart doesn’t know how to handle you.”

“yeah,” manon chimed, leaning dramatically across the table. “i bet she wants nothing more than to just pinch your cheeks and smooch you all over.”

they all puckered their lips obnoxiously, making exaggerated kissing sounds as they leaned toward you in unison.

you groaned. “i hate you guys.”

“hate us later. right now,” lara said, hopping to her feet, “walk with us, talk with us.”

“we are sitting,” manon deadpanned.

lara waved her off. “semantics.” then, back to you, “why do you think she’s been dodging school because of you?”

“i don’t know,” you muttered, sinking back in your seat. “i guess i’m just thinking too hard into it.”

“honestly, you probably are,” manon said, chewing her straw. “it’s kind of their thing, too. they usually disappear for periods of time. all of them. something about vacationing in olympia. especially when the sun comes out.”

the sun..? interesting, you thought. 

“i heard dr. insung has a home in the mountains,” megan offered casually.

lara raised a brow at her. “yeah, i’m sure you’ve also heard his blood type, date of birth, and entire bloodline spanning the last fourteen generations.”

megan didn’t even blink. “hey, i’m a simple girl.”

“yeah. a simple freak of one,” 

they launched into another round of bickering, tossing harmless insults across the table with practiced ease.

but their voices faded under the buzz in your head. you stared past them, absently scratching at the bandage beneath your sleeve.

sophia’s face flickered in your memory. how still she’d gone, how strange her eyes had looked. the way she left like the air had suddenly gone toxic.

you laughed along with your friends when the moment called for it. but still, something didn’t sit right. something was off.

you just didn’t know what.

‎ 

you hadn’t meant to dig. not at first. it just… happened.

you were lying awake last night, the events of that friday catching up to you. megan, lara and manon’s bickering still rang through your mind. somewhere between trying to fall asleep and tossing in your sheets for the third time, your thoughts had drifted, again, to the glossy lipped filipina who had been haunting the edges of your mind since the day you met her. and with her came everything else. the strange comments, the too quiet silences, the weight in her gaze that made you feel like she saw something in you you couldn’t name.

you were staring up at your ceiling when it hit you. 

no matter how many times you told yourself to drop it, your curiosity kept clawing its way back. something about sophia didn’t add up. and you were tired of pretending you didn’t want to know why.

how cold her hand had been when you passed her the car jack. how cold they’d been when they brushed over yours in the mid console of her volvo. 

the way her eyes were a shade of gold one day, and pitch black the next. 

the way she seemed to go long periods of time in your garage without even breathing, her shoulders stiff and her body unmoving. now that you thought about it, had you ever even seen her eat?

the way she opened up the garage door the night she drove you home from the hospital as if it was nothing, one arm and all. 

you sat at your desk and turned on the old box computer, a hand-me-down jaehyun gave you for your studies. 

cold skin, sudden strength, weird eyes. cold hands, no breathing, what does it mean. gold eyes then black eyes. 

you typed whatever came to mind. yahoo offered you vague medical articles, some half baked conspiracy threads. you kept searching anyway.

you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. and yet, you found yourself down rabbit holes, clicking links you probably shouldn’t.

low and behold, here you were now. you weren’t entirely sure what compelled you to take a bus out to port angeles on saturday. but somehow, without really thinking it through, you ended up standing in front of a bookstore tucked into a dimmer stretch of the street, the kind of place easy to overlook if you didn’t know to look.

you glanced down at the crumpled sheet of paper in your hand, the ink smudged in places from how many times you’d folded and unfolded it. you’d scrawled it out late last night in a restless haze of clicking links and half formed questions that you couldn’t seem to let go of.

you walked into the book store, a wealthy resource of information into the ‘supernatural and occult’. you almost scoffed a laugh at the absurdity of it all, but thought against it when the bell jingled and the man at the front desk smiled widely. 

you had to have looked through at least seven books before one finally caught your interest. a blue book with an image of a tribal figure on its front, an intricate pattern on its back. when you flipped it open to the index page, you read the title under your breath. quileute tribe legends. 

it was exactly what you were looking for. a book title you’d seen mentioned time and time again over the various articles you read, a common factor to all the chaos. 

by the time you made it back home, it was half past nine. as soon as you sat at your desk, you started reading. back and forth between the book and more yahoo’ing, somehow you came out with more questions than you had answers. 

half the pages made you feel ridiculous. stories about creatures that drank blood and never aged. tales of people who could break bones like twigs and vanish into trees. mentions of werewolves and treaties, and ancient blood pacts. 

you almost dismissed it all. almost. 

the memory of the figure in the woods that attacked jaehyun rooted itself in the center of your mind before you could stop it. fast, red eyed, crimson coated mouth. hell, even the sound of the howl in the distance before it took off into a sprint too fast for your eyes to see. 

you’d never felt sicker. 

you hadn’t slept a wink since saturday night. not even for a moment. your brain wouldn’t shut off. it kept circling back to everything you’d read that night. folklore, eyewitness accounts, medical anomalies that didn’t line up. things that sounded like fiction until you thought about her. about the eyes. about the silence. about the way she disappeared like a ghost just when you started to notice too much.

whatever feelings you had, however, would need to go on hold. at least for now. 

at some point sunday night, jaehyun came home. 

he moved slower than usual, still wobbling from whatever had happened in the woods. his steps were uneven, and every now and then, he’d wince like a sharp ache had settled somewhere deep beneath his skin. still, his coy smile never once strayed. 

“you look like i feel. shitty.” jaehyun grinned the moment you walked downstairs, the two of you already falling back into the comfortable rhythm you found before he was hospitalized. 

you didn’t go to school that day. the entire day was spent back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, making sure jaehyun had everything he needed. he tried to shoo you off, but of course you didn’t listen. 

there was a pause, then you nodded in the direction of the dingy garage. “i’ve been working on the truck.”

it was a lame excuse, but anything was better than giving him the truth. the last thing you wanted was to sit down and ramble like a nutjob, to have him commit you over something you weren’t even a hundred-percent sure was real. 

jaehyun’s eyes lit up a little. “yeah? how’s it looking?”

“engine’s good. she’s still busted, but i think we’re getting there.”

his eyebrows raised, half teasing, half knowing. “we…?”

you froze. he wiggled his shoulders, cooing. he continued after a quick second. 

“who exactly has been keeping you company while i’ve been away? when do i get to meet them? oh, i can see it already. a little wedding down by la push. me and the truck will be sitting side by side in the aisles-“

you cut him off with a loud groan, covering your ears with both hands as you stood to your feet. you ignored his dry, croaky laughter and beelined for the garage. 

“this is my queue to get out of here. have fun dying.” you didn’t give him time to respond before you were already gone, practically locking yourself in the garage. 

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the silence took over once more. you welcomed it. your eyes were practically glued to the floor as you stepped around the blue truck, your thoughts running rampant in your mind. 

only, your head snapped up immediately when you heard the faint inhale of breath by the rolling door, already open and letting in the numbing cold. 

sophia. 

you froze. you knew enough now to be nervous, or at least you thought you did. maybe you should’ve even been scared.but then there she was. leaning against the garage wall like she hadn’t vanished off the face of the earth for a week, like the cold didn’t touch her, like she hadn’t been haunting your every thought since she left. her eyes flicked up the moment yours did.

you didn’t know what you were expecting. bloodstained lips? glowing eyes? a cruel smile that said you figured it out, now what?

what you got was worse. she was still so numbingly, breathtakingly beautiful. you didn’t say anything at first. you found your voice a moment later, your throat suddenly dry.

“where’ve you been?”

she looked at you intently, an unreadable expression embedded across her face. “around.”

you took a step closer. the words came out quiet, but they still filled the space between you.

“why now? why show up today?”

she shrugged, like it was nothing. like the answer should have been obvious. “you weren’t at school.”

you blinked. “you’re suddenly going again?”

“i was away. olympia. some family issues.” she said it smoothly, almost rehearsed.

“i don’t believe you.”

she didn’t argue. she didn’t even flinch. just let the silence settle again, the way she always did when she didn’t want to lie but didn’t want to tell the truth either. 

maybe it was the way she looked at you, still and unreadable, or maybe it was just the past week of silence finally cracking something inside you, but the next words came before you could stop them. they just slipped out.

“you’re cold. you’re strong. your eyes are gold again. you don’t eat. you’re gorgeous.”

the last one barely came out. but it was true. painfully so.

she didn’t react at first. just stood there, her face perfectly calm. but her eyes told a different story. they looked tired. not the kind of tired that sleep could fix, but the kind that came from running too long and finally hitting a wall. it was like she had been waiting for this. like she had seen it coming, but still hoped it wouldn’t.

you stepped forward again. your chest felt tight.

“i know what you are.”

that was when she moved. barely. just tilted her head and pushed off the wall with a quiet motion. she stayed where she was, though. the space between you remained, but it felt different now. charged.

“say it.”

you looked at her for a long moment. the cold bit at your skin, but you didn’t feel it. not really. your voice was quiet, steady. 

“you’re not human.”

she didn’t deny it. didn’t flinch. just looked at you like she’d been waiting a long time for you to finally understand.

“are you scared?”

the question hit you harder than it should have. 

were you?

 you read things you never thought you’d take seriously. stories. warnings. blood and immortality and creatures hiding behind beautiful faces. and sophia had every reason to terrify you. but she didn’t. you looked at her. really looked. her jaw was set like she was bracing for something. maybe rejection. maybe fear. maybe worse. and still, your answer came without hesitation.

“no.”

your voice shook, but the truth didn’t. you weren’t scared. not of her.

maybe there was something wrong with you. maybe you should’ve walked away and avoided the conversation all together, kicked her out of your garage and not looked back. but you didn’t. 

sophia looked back at you, her glossy lips parted as if she was surprised by your answer. but, your answer was all she needed. 

one moment she was standing still, and the next she was gone.

your eyes barely had time to register it. one blink and the space where she had been was empty, your brain scrambling to catch up. she moved so fast it almost hurt to look, like your vision couldn’t process what was happening in real time. you had only just started to turn your head when you felt her hands on you.

then everything blurred.

you didn’t even have the chance to speak before she scooped you up and swung you effortlessly onto her back. it was like your body stopped belonging to you, caught in the middle of something bigger and faster than it could understand.

she was running.

trees whipped past in streaks of green and brown, the cold air slashing across your face and stinging your eyes. you couldn’t catch your breath. not from fear, but from the sheer velocity. the wind roared in your ears. your stomach turned, your arms tightened around her shoulders, and for a second you thought you might throw up.

the ground beneath you was a blur, and the woods behind your house became a dizzying mess of movement and shadows.

your heart slammed against your ribs like it was trying to escape. your fingers dug into the fabric of her hoodie, holding on for dear life, the speed making your head spin and your thoughts scatter. you were lightheaded, unmoored, overwhelmed.

and still, she didn’t slow down.

she moved like nothing could stop her. like gravity didn’t matter. like she had done this a thousand times and would never get tired.

when she finally stopped, it was so sudden you didn’t realize it at first. one second the world was racing past you in a smear of color and cold air, the next it all just… ended. the silence hit you like a wall. your stomach lurched as your surroundings settled back into focus, the forest around you no longer a blur but still and quiet, dusted with frost and shadows.

she lowered you gently, her grip careful, like she was afraid you might break now that everything had gone still. your legs nearly gave out beneath you when your feet touched the ground, and for a moment all you could do was stand there, bracing yourself against the nearest tree, your lungs trying to remember how to breathe.

when you looked up, she was already facing you.

her expression wasn’t cold. it wasn’t empty. it was something worse.

somber. hesitant. like she was preparing herself for something she didn’t want to hear. like she thought this moment would change everything, and maybe she was right.

her eyes searched yours for something. understanding, maybe. forgiveness. you couldn’t tell.

the wind tugged at her hair as she stood there, perfectly still except for the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides. she looked like she wanted to speak, but didn’t know how. for the first time, you saw the smallest crack in the armor she always wore. something fragile and human flickering beneath everything else.

she looked at you like she was waiting for you to run. only you didn’t. 

when she finally spoke, her voice was careful, like each word had to pass through a gate she wasn’t sure she should open.

“i wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

you crossed your arms, more to anchor yourself than anything. “then why did you?”

she hesitated. not out of fear, exactly. more like conflict. like something inside her was tearing in two.

“because you already knew,” she said softly. “not everything, but enough.”

she wasn’t wrong. and still, hearing her say it made your throat tighten.

her gaze dropped then. “i’ve been trying to stay away. i thought it would help. i thought if i stayed gone long enough, it would fade.”

you tilted your head. “what would?”

sophia looked up, and something flickered across her face. raw and unguarded.

“you.”

the silence after that was heavy. you didn’t know what to say. didn’t even know how to feel. her voice had been almost a whisper, but it landed like a weight in your chest.

“you don’t even know me,” you said, not accusing, just confused.

“i know enough,” she said. then she looked away again, like the truth tasted bitter. “i knew the second i smelled your blood.”

your stomach dropped. she must have seen it on your face, because she quickly held up a hand.

“i’m not going to hurt you.”

you wanted to believe her. god, you did. you swallowed. “is that why you’ve been so distant?”

“it’s why i haven’t let myself get closer,” she said. “it’s why i left.”

you took a small step toward her. not enough to close the space, just enough to make her look at you again. you stared at her, and for the first time, you understood why she had been so cold. why she disappeared. why she kept herself at a distance even when her eyes said something else entirely.

“then why bring me here?”

she didn’t answer right away. when she did, you felt your chest ache. 

“because i couldn’t stay away any longer.”

you opened your mouth, then closed it again. nothing felt right. there were too many questions tangled behind your ribs, all of them fighting to be first. so you settled for the one that had been sitting heavy in your chest since the second she reappeared.

“what happens now?”

sophia’s expression shifted. not softer exactly, but quieter. like the edge she always carried had dulled just a little.

“that depends,” she said.

“on what?”

“on whether you want to know the truth,” she murmured. “all of it.”

you watched her carefully. the way her shoulders tensed, the way her fingers curled slightly against her coat like she was bracing for impact. like part of her was still waiting for you to run.

“i already know enough to be scared,” you admitted. “but i’m still here.”

something flickered in her eyes at that. not surprise. not relief. something else. something deeper.

“then come with me.”

you blinked. “where?”

she didn’t answer. she simply turned on her heel, expecting you to follow. you did. whatever the truth was, you knew it had teeth. but something deep in your still-beating heart knew sophia wouldn't let it bite you. 

not if she could help it, at least.

part one next

[hyuuukais]

someone take me to see mcr in toronto 😞🙏

[elirium]

dummes aber süßes bild von red und seinem team

[dreadfuldevotee]

dilemma: volunteer in community theaters costume department to keep my hands busy and to also talk to literally anyone face to face But (big kicker) experience excruciating pain over not being in the actual shows themselves

[jetbluebishop]

Raffle prizes i finished yesterday

[theftshrubbery]

i’ve always been scared to post etsy stuff here but i might do it more is that ok :p

[bootlegmozart]

This is Richter created by Skullduggery on artfight!

They also have a bsky

I saw the ziggy stardust relation and had to draw it. Richter is such a cool 'saur.