lilyisnot

[lilyisnot]

Everything I Ruined

Slow-Burn Romance/Tragic Romance

Inspired by: Mr plankton

Pt1

She stared out the motel window

Still in the dress

Still barefoot

Still aching

Geum stood behind her, hoodie half-off, breathing quiet like he didn’t want to exist too loudly.

“I should hate you,” she muttered.

“I know.”

“You ruined everything.”

“I know.”

“You don’t get to just show up after everything and expect me to fall into your arms.”

“I don’t.”

She turned, sharp. Angry. Cracked open.

“You don’t?” she snapped. “Then what the hell was all of that? You carry me out of my wedding and now you’re just…standing there? Like you didn’t ruin me being happy!”

He said nothing.

She stormed forward.

“You don’t get to take me away from a man who actually chose me and then go quiet like you didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t get to be quiet now, Geum.”

Still, nothing.

She shoved him.

Hard.

He barely moved.

She hit his chest again. Furious.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“You left me alone.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t fight for me!”

“I didn’t know how” he said louder now.

Her chest heaved. Her eyes were glossy. And then she saw it.

Blood.

His knuckles.

Split open again. Same hands that used to hold her like she was something fragile.

Without speaking, she stormed into the bathroom. Grabbed a towel. The motel’s first-aid kit.

“Sit” she ordered, returning.

He hesitated. “What are you—”

“Sit down, Geum. Before I change my mind.”

He obeyed.

She grabbed his hand rough, trembling and started wiping the dried blood away.

“You always do this” she said. “Throw fists like they’re words. Pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

He watched her. Silent.

“I told myself I wouldn’t care this time” she whispered. “That if you ever came back, I’d slam the door. That I wouldn’t touch you again.”

She paused. “…But I can’t stand watching you like this.”

He closed his eyes.

“I don’t deserve this.”

“You don’t.”

She wrapped his hand in gauze.

But then held it just one second too long.

Their eyes met.

The tension and the unspoken words that haven’t been said to each other are seen in the eyes.

⸻

The next morning, the motel room was quiet when she woke up.

Geum wasn’t in the chair anymore.

For a moment, her chest clenched like he’d left her again.

But then she heard the door open.

He walked in holding two drinks and a bag of convenience store snacks.

“I didn’t know what you liked anymore” he said.

She blinked sleep from her eyes. “You could’ve asked.”

He set the bag down. “That ruins the surprise.”

She peeked inside the bag and found soft, casual clothes something comfortable and cute.

Her jaw tightened, then softened. “Thanks.”

He shrugged “Better than that dress.”

⸻

They didn’t talk about the wedding.

They didn’t talk about the man she almost married.

They didn’t talk about what this meant her running off with him like something out of a dream that turned wrong.

But that afternoon, he said

“Let’s go somewhere.”

She stared at him.

“Where?”

He shrugged, like it didn’t matter.

But something in his voice was too steady. Like he’d planned it.

“Let’s just drive.”

⸻

He took her to a tiny candle shop hidden between an old bookstore and a laundromat. The kind of place you’d miss if you blinked.

“Seriously?” she asked eyeing the place

“A candle shop?”

“Trust me.”

He pushed open the door. The bell above it jingled like a memory.

Inside, it was warm and golden. Shelves of handmade candles, soft music playing from a dusty speaker. A woman behind the counter looked up and smiled.

“Back again?” she said to Geum.

“She’s with me today” he replied.

The woman nodded, stepping into the back. Left them alone.

She gave him a look.

“You’re weird.”

“You already knew that.”

He walked slowly down the aisles. Lit one of the display candles with a match.

“Smell that.”

She leaned in.

“It smells like—”

“Vanilla almond. Your favorite.”

She paused. A little caught off guard.

“You remembered?”

“I remember everything I ruined.”

⸻

They wandered the shop in near silence.

Some candles smelled like peppermint. Others like coffee or books or summer storms. One smelled exactly like the old soap his hoodie used to carry. You remember.

He bought it.

Didn’t say why though.

“Why here?” she finally asked.

He lit another candle and stared at the tiny flame.

“Because it’s quiet. And soft. And I figured after everything I’ve done you deserve at least one place that doesn’t smell like regret.”

She didn’t reply.

But she didn’t walk away either.

⸻

Later, they sat on the curb outside the shop, sipping paper cups of warm cider from a stand next door. A breeze lifted her hair. He tugged his hoodie sleeves lower.

She glanced sideways at him.

“You’re acting off.”

“I’m always off.”

“No. Today’s different. You’re not just quiet. You’re… distant.”

He stayed quiet for a second too long.

Then…

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

He smiled at his cup.

“You always use to say that.”

⸻

They drove back in silence.

She picked the music old R&B songs they used to hum in the car when they were together and everything still felt like it could last forever.

He didn’t sing along.

Just tapped the wheel gently, like he was trying to stay present.

⸻

Back at the motel, she kicked off her shoes with a sigh and dropped onto the bed.

Not her bed. The bed.

There was only one.

“Seriously?” she muttered.

“It was the only one they had.”

“Of course it was.”

She didn’t argue, but she didn’t look at him either.

She went to the bathroom, washed her face, changed into the clothes he bought her soft, clean, casual.

When she came out, he was already on the other side of the bed, laying flat on his back, hoodie still on, staring at the ceiling.

She rolled her eyes and got in.

Turned her back to him.

“No funny business” she said.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.”

⸻

The room was quiet.

Not heavy. Just quiet.

She closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep.

“Hey” he said after a minute.

She opened one eye.

“What?”

“Thanks… for today.”

She didn’t respond right away.

Then…

“Don’t make it weird tomorrow.”

“I won’t.”

Another pause.

“Goodnight” she mumbled.

“Goodnight.”

[lilyisnot]

She Planned To Let Him Go.

Angst/Romance

Inspired by: Mr plankton

Pt2

She was sitting in front of the mirror, adjusting her earring, when the door opened.

At first, she didn’t turn. She assumed it was her mother or her sister or someone bringing flowers.

But then…

She felt it

That silence

That presence

She turned slowly.

And there he was.

Black hoodie. Black shoes. A face still too beautiful for someone who’d broken so much.

She blinked lips parting in disbelief. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know.”

He looked around like the room was suffocating him, like the past was alive in the air.

“I just… I needed to see you before you walk down that aisle.”

Her voice dropped. “Why?”

⸻

— FLASHBACK —

“Don’t make me choose” he said, jaw clenched, bruises fresh on his face.

She stood by the door, arms wrapped around herself. She was crying, but quietly. That was always the worst kind of crying.

“I’m not making you do anything” she said. “I’m just telling you if you stay in the Union, I can’t stay with you.”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

He knew what staying meant.

Power. Loyalty. Control. Survival.

But also losing her.

She waited. Hoped.

And when he didn’t move, didn’t say please don’t go, she left.

— NOW —

He swallowed hard, his voice thick. “Because I still love you.”

She stared at him. Not shocked just fed up.

“You’re late” she said softly. “Too late.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing” he said, stepping forward. “I thought if I stayed with the Union, I could protect you from the outside. Keep you safe.”

“Don’t lie,” she said sharply. “You didn’t stay for me. You stayed for yourself. For power. For pride. For people who would’ve killed me if they had to.”

He flinched.

And then she spoked softly

“You chose the union. I asked you to come out of it, and you didn’t. So I left.”

⸻

— FLASHBACK —

He found her asleep on the couch once, his hoodie wrapped around her, her phone in her hand. Unsent messages on the screen:

“Please just call me. I miss you.”

“Are you safe?”

“I hate you for making me care this much.”

“I still love you.”

He never replied.

— NOW —

He looked down. “I was scared.”

She turned back to the mirror, picking up her veil.

“You said you loved me,” he whispered.

“I did.”

“Then why are you marrying him?”

She looked up at him in the mirror, her reflection calm but heavy.

“Because he chose me. Every time. Without hesitation. Without needing to lose me first to realize it.”

Tears slipped down his cheeks before he could stop them. He wiped them with his sleeve, like he used to do when she kissed his bruises.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I know.”

He watched her lift the veil.

Her hands didn’t even shake.

“Do you love him?” he asked.

She hesitated. Then,

“I don’t have to love him the way I loved you. I just have to know he won’t leave.”

That shattered him.

She turned fully now, standing in front of him. Inches away.

She reached up, fixed the collar of his hoodie, like she used to.

“I’m glad you came,” she whispered.

“But now you need to go.”

He looked at her like he was memorizing everything.

Like this was a funeral.

And maybe it was.

She kissed his cheek; gentle, final.

Then turned back to the mirror.

Back to her new life.

Back to a man who chose her before he lost her.

She planned to smooth her veil. Walk out. Smile. Pretending like nothing happened.

That was the plan.

That’s how she wrote it in her head.

But instead

“wait geum what are you- put me down!” she exclaimed

Her veil flew off. Her heels hit the floor once before he lifted her again, arms tight around her thighs.

“I can’t let you marry him,” he muttered, jaw clenched. “Not when you looked at me like that. Not when I still know how you breathe.”

“This is insane.”

“So were we.”

She kicked. Lightly. Half-heartedly.

“I hate you.”

“You loved me first.”

And with that, he walked out the door carrying the bride.