#But the moment their other self dies they also shatter permanently on the spot even if they were doing something completely different

[starlytenight]

Been seeing a lot of Mirror World stuff on my feed and wanted to doodle up some of my own DMK's angst c:

[ephemerlskies]

lottery | pjm

⇢ pairing: reader x jimin

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, fluff, flufff, soulmate au, jimin is a dancer, strangers to kinda lovers to friends?? kinda? to ??? 

⇢ word count: 23.4k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, excessive cheesiness and pining, slow burn (prepare yourself now)

⇢ summary: everyone was born with a soulmate and a ring. when your soulmate was alive, the ring would be green. when your soulmate was close to you, your ring would turn white. and when your soulmate was dead, it turned black. yours turned black at the age of 20. your soulmate had died along with your hope. but then, one fateful day, it turned green again. 

a/n: this story went, and i cannot stress this enough, in a compLETELY different direction lmao. i hope you enjoy!!! also it’s partially unedited so forgive any grammatical errors or typos <3

When you were four years old, your mother explained to you that there is a human with a heart and a soul that is tied permanently to yours. That person was your soulmate, and if you’re one of the lucky few that meets them, she said, then you can thank your lucky stars that the universe granted you this gift. Some people spend their entire lives searching, hoping that their soulmate unites with them, while others simply give up or lose faith that they’d ever find their soulmate. And eventually, they settle for someone and love them as much as they can to fill that void. You couldn’t imagine yourself ever becoming the latter of those two kinds of people.

“Mommy, I’m not going to find my soulmate. I think my soulmate will find me! I’m so cute!” You replied ever so hopeful and innocent. Your mother laughed in response to your bold declaration while stroking your hair lightly. Back then, you never hid your excitement for the idea of a soulmate, and your mother told you to hold on tight to your persistence.

“Love finds its way of sneaking into your life unexpectedly. And when it does, it’ll sweep you off your feet just like this!” Her hands pinched the sides of your torso to represent her description of love, and you erupted with a fit of giggles.

When Jimin was seven years old, he asked his father, “Why do you only get one?” The concept that only one person out of the billions of people that walked this earth could be your destined lover didn’t register as probable in his mind. 

“Why would you need more than one?” His father asked in return, to which Jimin huffed. He was young and couldn’t express with the proper words how he had felt. The desire that raged in his heart to plant himself and his love in as many people as he could was something that always plagued him. He carried that burden the moment he fell in love with his first grade crush; Jimin knew from then on that waiting for his soulmate was going to be impossible for him. He would fall in love a thousand times before he’d ever become close to meeting his soulmate.

When you were ten, you told your mother with firm inquisition, “Mommy, I want to find them now! It’s not fair I don’t know who it is. I wanna be in love forever!” Your pout, though cute, was a bit worrisome. She remembered when she was  beginning to grow impatient and frustrated with the idea that out of the billions of people, only one could be your soulmate. She tried to ease your newfound resistance to waiting for your soulmate by saying,

“Baby, what is meant to be will come to you. Your entitlement to love is written in the stars, and so you just have to wait. Promise me you’ll never lose hope?”, you nodded eagerly and held your pinky out with confidence. Your mother curled her pinky around yours. She smiled at the way your eyes pleaded with the universe to send you your soulmate and the way you grinned when offered words of encouragement. 

When Jimin was thirteen, he raced home and said with all the honesty his young heart could convey, “Dad, I fell in love today. I swear I’m going to marry her, I swear it.” His father glanced up from his book to Jimin then looked back down, a small grin surfacing on his face. Though he knew there was no way in the world that could be true, he believed one thing Jimin said. He was in fact in love.

“Be careful with your heart, Jimin. I know you love so hard but don’t forget to protect your heart.” This succinct and thoughtful warning was spoken through experience. He scrunched his nose and trudged off to his room, believing his dad only said that because he didn’t understand. He did, though. Jimin’s father, like Jimin, was in the same position as he was. He loved outrageously and abundantly. It took him many heartbreaks for him to learn to allot his love more carefully. And he wondered how many heartbreaks it would take Jimin. 

When you were seventeen, you gained a comprehensive understanding of the soulmates, and the rings, and the chances of you finding them. They were slim, which was a difficult conclusion to accept, but that didn’t stop your stubborn self from never becoming indifferent towards the idea of finding your soulmate. This unrelenting hope had been instilled into you ever since you were young, thanks to your mother. And every minute of every day, your eyes never failed to check that your ring was green. Each time you peered down, you hoped to see it white someday. But as long as it was green, you promised your mother you’d never lose hope. You did everything in your power to uphold that promise.

When Jimin was nineteen, he experienced the worst heartbreak of his life yet. The words his dad spoke to him years back finally made sense. He still loved, and that love never diminished but it simply was only to be granted to those he knew wouldn’t hurt him. 

Most of your friends and peers were cynical of their soulmate rings, along with most of society. Modern technology and media have desensitized finding your true soulmate with corny dating apps that “help you find the one” and reality television shows that depict the lives of those who have found their soulmates. It was disappointing how commercialized soulmates and soulmate rings had become. The romance that once surrounded the concept of the soulmate rings had been tarnished by the world’s hunger to capitalize of the profits of soulmates and rings. It was common to not believe and a bit expected to lose hope, tragically so.

Your best friend Wheein was one of the few people you trusted in telling your genuine faith of the soulmate ring, and she of course took every opportunity to tease you for it. Though, she always held a tremendous amount of admiration for your ability to maintain optimism. And when she looked into your eyes, she witnessed the same unadulterated longing that your mother had seen for your whole life, and she felt like crying, “You’re crazy but if anyone finds their soulmate it should be you.” She found beauty and purity and everything good that exists in this world, all bundled up in your heart. The way you loved was as infectious and uncontrollable as a wildfire.

At some point, she realized she too constantly checked your ring to make sure it still emanated green.

It was a week after your twentieth birthday. You woke up in the morning with the heaviest pressure residing in your chest. You had no idea what this feeling was or why it was happening, but there was some cloud of uneasiness settling in as the pain grew more and more prominent. It dawned on you a few minutes later, and you felt your heart drop. Your throat began to close as you frantically searched everywhere for your ring. You usually didn’t take it off but you remember removing it when writing thank you letters for everyone who came to your party because the friction of the ring had caused somewhat of a blister along your middle finger.

Your breathing grew short and rapid, and every ounce of you was trying to deny that this pain could only mean one thing.  

“No no no no.” you muttered lowly to yourself, and just as your body was about to become undone with fear, you ran to the dining table to find your ring, “that’s not possible… please. That would never happen.” You didn’t know what denying this would prove, or who you were trying to convince. Maybe yourself, or anyone who has ever belittled you for believing in that ring, or to your mother, or to the promise you made, planted heavily in your heart for all these years. You rushed over to it as your face rose in temperature and your heart accelerated to about 200 beats per minute; it was pounding against your chest so aggressively it felt as if it could have shattered your ribcage.

As you grabbed hold of the ring, there it was. The suffocating, abhorrent color.

Black.

It covered the ring with a piercing and unforgiving hue that drilled right through your heart. You instantly collapsed to the ground. The turbulence of your breath being the only thing making a sound. You brought your knees to your chest and rested your chin atop them. Your eyes filled with tears and the wave of regret swarmed your mind; your eyes squeezed shut forcing the tears to flow even heavier.

Just as the ring was black, your entire world transformed and lost all color. All those years of pining over this stupid ring, all the work and endless nights of staring at that ring telling yourself that one day it would turn white or that it would stay green forever, amounted to the greatest defeat. And your belief in love had been violently dissevered from you.

Your soulmate was gone, forever.

All you could do was sulk in the cruel irony of loving the someone you have never met, never touched, or held or kissed.

Wheein was the one who found you lying in the same spot of the dining floor where you first discovered the ring. She couldn’t express how seeing you so hopeless made her feel. It wasn’t her loss, but her heart broke for you. She walked over to you and offered you a simple, loving embrace. She sat there with you for hours, unsure if she should be the one to speak first. The words didn’t come. All she could do was watch you turn the ring in your fingers over and over again.

You didn’t see it, but she cried the hardest she’d ever cried before, and wished she could take your pain away.

“What do I do now? How do I go on?” you whispered, a thick layer melancholy drowned in your voice. She felt relieved when you spoke then held you tighter.

“I don’t know, but I will love you a thousand times more than anyone ever could. Believe me, okay?” She planted soft kiss on your forehead and pressed your head into the nook of her neck. “This isn’t the end of your story.” You wept into her, and you believed her. You finally looked up at her, doing your best to regain your sensibility, and she noticed the blinding absence of hope; it used to be all she could see when she looked into your eyes. That was by far the most heartbreaking thing she’d ever witnessed. You had lost a piece of yourself that day, she knew that, and every day to come you will carry this in your heart forever.

“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but love exists in every life in countless ways. You just need to find the strength to begin searching in different places.” Your mom said.

 Two years later

 Life without the green of your ring had grown mundane.

Your existence had become a routine and instead of waiting to meet your soulmate, you were just waiting. Most days everything felt okay, especially when Wheein was around. She was one of the few people that sparked some livelihood into your heart. Despite there being a small part of you that couldn’t accept what happened, you lived your life as if you had.

Still, you kept the ring. That same part of you that couldn’t come to accept that your soulmate had died was the same part that couldn’t let go of the ring. So, you kept it but never wore it around your finger. You were ashamed, for some inexplicable reason, that it was black. Your mom would always remind you that it wasn’t your fault whenever she caught you staring grievously at the ring. You knew there was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened, but somehow you felt this sense of failure.

Eventually, you settled on putting it on a thin, gold chain and wearing it around your neck where you could tuck it into your shirt and keep it hidden from the world. It was a gift from your mother. She gave it to you about a month after it happened, disguising this gesture as a late birthday present. She knew you wouldn’t be able to part from the ring.

Today was one of those days when you couldn’t to rid thoughts of your soulmate. You often found yourself imagining what they smelled like, or if they liked the rain, or what they wore to the beach, or what their eyes looked like when they smiled.  

Your daydreaming, pensive and glum, were interrupted by a ringing. Your eyes found your phone which read, Wheein.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself, “Are you lost already?” You chirped.

“Hey, people change! I’ve gotten, like, somewhat better at navigating.” She laughed, at first not wanting to admit that she was lost, “but on a totally different note, totally hypothetical question, where would you go if you were on 23rd avenue and needed to get to your apartment?” She questioned in sheepish confusion.

“Well, hypothetically, I’d take a right onto Ventura then turn onto 19th avenue and go straight until I got to my apartment.” You tried to hold back a chuckle about to escape from your mouth along with a boastful ‘I told you so’. “My apartment is on the left side of the street, by the way.”

“Yeah, me too, I’d do that too. I knew that, I was just testing you.” She replied, which counted as her special way of saying ‘thank you for helping me because I was in fact lost.’

“Okay, well, could you hurry? I’m starving and that new coffee shop has something like a cinnamon hazelnut latte that I want to try!” Your voice elevated in pitch just thinking about that cupful of sugar and caffeine. You’d like to consider yourself somewhat of a coffee connoisseur, you’d like to, but the reality of your coffee addiction was that you just loved sugary lattes.

Wheein fake gagged in response to hearing the drink you’d described, “___ that sounds so disgusting… You might as well eat spoonfuls of straight sugar.” Every time you expressed your cravings for sweet things, she couldn’t help but wince at the thought of it. You two were mildly opposite of each other which could credit why you never grew bored of one another.

“You say that as if I’ve never done that before.” You said with slight embarrassment, but Wheein laughed loudly upon remembering when you would sneak packets of sugar from diners and eat them in the car or at home. Wheein would quite literally slap the packets of sugar out of your hand while scolding you on how disgusting and unhealthy that was.

“Oh shit, how could I forget?”, she joked, “Also, I’m here. Open up!” You heard her voice outside your apartment and hung up while eagerly prancing to the door. You opened it and greeted her with a hug and she, unsurprisingly, did not reciprocate that hug.

“___, I literally saw you two days ago.” She laughed at how clingy you were, trying to pull away from you.

“Yeah but that was two days ago. Two days!” You rebutted as you stepped back and gestured for her to come in. You closed the door behind her and sat your couch while scrolling through route options to get to the café. “I can drive us, also we’re meeting Jackson there.”

Wheein nodded, “Yeah, cool.” You looked up at her and noticed she was pacing with a face that always indicated that she was contemplating something.

“What’s up?” You inquired with caution. She looked at you with a coy smile resting on her face. She didn’t have to say a word for you to know exactly what she was about to say.

“No…” You interfered before she got the chance to speak, “No, not again!”

“Come on! He’s really really nice and cute and funny! I promise he’s nothing like the last guy I set you up with.” She argued, walking towards you and sitting down next to you. She always had a few tricks up her sleeve when it came to persuade you to do something she wanted you to do. These include, but are not exclusive to, pouty lips, puppy eyes, and non-stop pestering. All of which she used right now. Wheein lifted her hands in front of her chest and interlocked her fingers together in a pleading manner. Your eyes were glued to how cutely her lip was protruded.

“Wheein…” You attempted to be stern with her, though there was no doubt in your mind that you’d give in eventually, “I’m not-“

“Busy?”, she interrupted, “Yeah, I’m aware.” She untangled her hands and flicked your forehead causing you to flinch and chuckle lightly.

“Hey!” You scoffed, unable to defend yourself, “I… I was going to say not interested.” You couldn’t help but laugh at her friendly jab, in admittance that she was right. She only answered with yet another puppy dog-eyed stare to which you groaned loudly. You then bitterly shot her a defeated look that spoke for itself and added yet another triumph to Wheein’s collection.

“Yay!” She clapped her hands excitedly, “Okay his name is Jimin. I’m pretty sure I’ve told you about him! He’s the guy that I met during my first year of college and he fell over in front of the entire class when we were doing introductions. Holy shit, it was hilarious.” Wheein laughed to herself when she recalled this but then shook her head to refocus her train of thought, “Sorry. Anyway, he’s a dancer, one of those fancy contemporary ones that does all the flips and stuff. He’s honestly super cute and if I weren’t the gayest women to walk this earth then I would have hopped on that a long time ago.” You had an outburst of laughter when she said this.

“He’s blonde and kinda short but that’s okay because size doesn’t matter.” You were convinced she switched her brain off when she rambled on like that, yet you found her absurdity hilarious. Your eyes widened as she let that last comment slip from her subconscious.

“You’re so weird.” You scoffed back at her, suppressing your laughter and preventing what could have become a ten-minute speech on why yet another one of her bachelor’s she set you up with was ‘different from the last guy’ and worthy of a chance. She nudged you gently, trying to enliven some excitement from you about this date.

“It’s true, it’s how they use it!” She proceeded causing the both of you to burst in a fit of childlike giggles.

“Okay, jeez, I’m already going on the date! You can stop now.” You wiped your eyes and clutched your stomach as it began to ache from how hard you laughed. It was always like this with Wheein, and you loved her for it even when you didn’t show that, “But, in all fairness, you’re right.”

Wheein nodded proudly and smiled widely before rising to her feet and pulling you up off the couch by your arms. You huffed as she forced you from your comfortable spot and followed her as she walked to the door, “Text Jackson to let him know we’re on our way!” She called back to you as you hummed in response and fulfilled her request.

“He’s gonna throw a little fit that we’re late.” You smiled, staring at your phone.

“Yeah, yeah, he always does.”

A few days later, you stood in front of your mirror and stared at the muted pink colored, semi-casual dress you tried on. The pile of clothes scattered across your bed soon catching your attention, none of which occurred by your own doing, but by the same pest that was forcing you on this date tonight. Wheein walked in rambling on about something you didn’t pay much mind to, “So I couldn’t find your red lipstick but I found this pink one-“ She paused and gasped, eyeing you down in your new attire.

“___, I love it!” She smiled, looking ten times more excited about this night than you did. You smiled nervously turning back to the mirror and inspecting it once more.

“You like it? It’s not too much?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you ran your hands along the side of the dress.

“Too much? Please, never.” She came up behind you, held both your shoulders, and turned you around to face her, “Turn.” Wheein proceeded to apply the dusty rose lipstick, her eyes fixed on perfectly lining your lips. She always liked to visit you and assist you in getting ready for dates, knowing fully that you needed that push of encouragement. These kinds of things were always difficult for you, and she tried her best to distract you from that damn soulmate ring hanging around your neck.

“Why do you say turn when you’re just going to turn me anyway?” Your muffled joke was shushed by the girl who was still meticulously filling in your lips.

“Shh, you’re gonna make me smudge it.” Wheein whined and lifted your chin slightly to get a better angle. To this you simply rolled your eyes to sarcastically jab back, ‘God forbid.’

As she finished with your lipstick you spun back around to examine your makeup and hair one last time. You nodded in satisfaction and stepped away from the mirror, checking the time to assure you weren’t running late.

Twenty minutes until the date. Now that you were finished getting ready, there was nothing left to distract yourself from how anxious and a bit unmotivated you felt. You began to absentmindedly twirl your ring in your hand while your foot tapped rapidly against the floor. Wheein reached out to grab your hand, along with the ring which was enclosed in it.

“You don’t have to take it off, ___.” She consoled, softly running her thumb along the back of your hand. Your eyes landed on hers, then you shook your head discontentedly.

“Wouldn’t…” You paused, fighting your voice from cracking, “That would be weird, though, right?” Your eyes fell back to your ring, which reflected that haunting shade. Despite your nerves still being on edge, Wheein significantly managed to ease your anxiety.

“No, and besides who cares? Its your body, you do or wear what you want.” Wheein was always so headstrong, that characteristic often served as a solace to you. “And, if Jimin does say something then, I’ll kick his ass. I’ve got a baseball bat on hand one hundred percent of the time.” She offered nonchalantly, generating a soft chuckle from you. Upon seeing your smile, she continued, “Hey,” you looked up to her, “What’re you thinking?”

“It’s not that I don’t ever want to find love. I do, It’s just- knowing that I lost them…” You inhaled deeply in attempt to yield your tears, “I know I could never love someone as deeply and truly as I would have loved them. It’s just hard to be excited about these kinds of things, you know?” Wheein pressed her lips together and she stared at you empathetically. She grabbed a tissue and dabbed your eyes gently, trying not to ruin your makeup.

“As much as that is true,” She paused, folding over the tissue and drying your other eye, “that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to find love. And that doesn’t mean the love you will find won’t be just as real.” She tossed the tissue aside and wrapped her arm around you, kindly ushering your head to lay on her shoulder. “You love me and I’m not your soulmate.”

“That’s true.” You sighed, finally tucking the ring into the front of your dress, feeling the coolness of it dangle against your chest. “But you are my soulmate.” You lifted your hand to squeeze her cheeks lovingly. She laughed, only allowing you to do this because she was truly proud of you for going on this date.

“At least I know I will never experience a heartbreak so painful as that ever again.” That comment elicited a few tears to well in Wheein’s eyes.

She sat you up and hugged you tightly, running her hand against your back. In that moment, she wanted to tell you that you were so strong, but she remained silent. She then pulled you up from your seated position. Wheein steadied you by gripping your shoulders, softly.

“Hey! No tears, okay? You’re about to go on a date with a super hot dancer with the legs of a god.” She rocked you back and forth gently to loosen up.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” You groaned and smiled trying to release those sad feelings. Your reluctance to tonight was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to what you thought about dating; deep down, you did want to fall in love even if that wasn’t with your soulmate. You couldn’t tell whether you were disappointed or relieved in your ability to consider settling.

“Okay, well it’s almost time to go! Text or call if you need anything. You remember our code word?” Wheein led you to the door before exchanging one last glance. Your code word was the word you texted her that signified you desperately needed an out from the date. Both you and Wheein have used this word various times for you often found yourselves rescuing each other from awkward, uncomfortable, or creepy dates. Your nerves began to ease even more upon remembering you could always count on Wheein.

“I will, and yes: candle.” You affirmed, then stepping out of the threshold of your door. “I’ll probably be back around 10:30ish? I’ll text you when I get there!” You called to her as you began to walk down the hallway. “Oh, and don’t burn my apartment down!”

She laughed and waved as you turned the corner.

You sat in your parked car for a bit. Your hands squeezing the wheel tightly just like the first time you’d ever driven. You focused on steadying your breathing and shut your eyes. “You got this. You can do this.” You chanted quietly to yourself, “It’s just a date.” You opened your eyes and let go of the wheel. Your heart raced, but not enough to be too noticeable. You developed a knack for hiding how nervous you were when you went on dates, not without practice, however.

As you walked into the restaurant, your eyes scanned the area searching for the man named Jimin. You then felt a hand gently place itself on the back of your shoulder to which you turned a little too quickly. Your eyes landed on a man, who was notably attractive, and a bit taken aback.

He was smiling. The creases around his eyes complimented him so well; that alone weakened your legs.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you!” He chuckled, his laugh was childlike and charismatic and light, “Are you ___?” His eyes were puffy in the cutest way and his hair framed him so fittingly he looked like a painting. Your eyes wandered down to notice he was wearing a simple, white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, and a pair of black, fitted slacks. This outfit accentuated the curvature his legs, which were admittedly ‘god like’ as Wheein described.

“Yes! You must be Jimin?” You held your hand out and he met yours with his. They were soft and warm which relaxed you for some reason. You glanced down to his fingers noticing he was wearing his soulmate ring that illuminated green. Something you hadn’t seen in a while. At first you felt a bit of sadness settle in, but then that was replaced with a bittersweet content. For some reason, you were happy he was wearing his ring. To you that meant he still believed which was oddly reassuring, but it also reminded you that he wasn’t your soulmate.

“That’s me!” His voice was cheerful and welcoming, you felt jealous at how natural and calm he’d been acting, “I already got us a table, wanna go sit?” His hand gestured towards the table and you nodded, leading the way to the table. He pulled out your chair, revealing his traditional gentlemanly tendencies. You thanked him as he found his seat across from yours.

“This is really fancy! I feel like we should talk about something sophisticated like the economy.” You joked, to which he laughed in response. You’d already started to love his laugh. It reminded you of beautiful music, which encouraged you to do or say things to provoke this laugh.

“Yeah, maybe we should order fancy wine too, except I have no what that would be.” He played along, “Can I have your most pretentiously expensive wine? Preferably something with a gentle, floral aftertaste.” He mocked the way those elitist folks would order their drinks. You, being a previous waitress, had to admit that his impression was accurate. You and he snickered at this, and you mind drifted away from the necklace and every worry you had before this date

“Anyone who swirls wine and sniffs it before drinking it makes me wanna vomit.” You spoke between giggles, “One time when I was working as a waitress, some guy demanded he had a crystal wine glass as if anyone can actually tell the difference.” Jimin laughed again, inspecting the glass that stood in front of his plate. He picked it up and held it in front of you.

“So, in your expertise, what would you say this is?” You then pretended to carefully analyze the contents of the glass, theatrically stroking your chin as if you were in deep thought.

“Well that is definitely…” You paused, “Empty, and what a waste to allow such a beautiful piece of crystal to not be filled with the finest, oldest, snootiest wine.” The two of you continued to laugh and joke until the waiter came to take your order.

You cleared your throat to compose yourself. Jimin covered his mouth attempting to stop laughing as the waiter pretended he didn’t see the way you guys had been joking.

“What can I get for you tonight?”

“You go first.” Jimin said, and you did.

This was easy; he was making this all too easy. You thought to yourself as you watched him slowly expose more and more of his true self. You too were beginning to reveal parts of yourself that weren’t usually shown. You wouldn’t describe yourself as a closed off person, but this was certainly much more open than you were on any other first date.

As the date went on, you found it growing more and more enjoyable than expected. You learned he had danced ever since he learned how to walk. And you told him how you’d spend hours and hours outside staring at the clouds for one art project that ended up not even being graded. You and him spoke about the big important details of your lives like your parents and where you lived and your dream careers, as well as the small things that gave you insight on each other’s personality like your favorite song to listen to when you were sad or if you preferred waffles or pancakes.

It was simple, and normal and sweet. You’d never imagined going on a date with anyone but your soulmate would feel this nice.

“So, what’s your thing?” He questioned in between bites of his food.

“My thing?” You paused in thought for a moment, “I really like drawing, obviously, since I help design art exhibits. But I have to say, I’ve got some dance moves up my sleeves.” You answered playfully, and he laughed. You smiled at his laugh as if you’d heard it a thousand times before and your fondness of it increased every time he did, especially if you were the reason for it.

“Oh, that’s intimidating. Are you trying to show me up, ___?” Jimin joined along with your jest.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” You responded flatly despite the wide grin still plastered across your face.

“Hm, I don’t know, I think I gotta see these dance moves. Dinner and entertainment sounds nice.” He suggested, reaching out to lightly grasp your hand that was resting on the table. You wanted to ignore the fluttering that erupted in your stomach and traveled up to your fingertips and down to your feet, but it was too strong to ignore. Your face grew hot and you could tell your cheeks turned a bit flushed.

Jimin smiled cavalierly upon noticing your reaction to this move.

“Maybe some other time. We can’t let all these people know that we’re secretly children.” You laughed, avoiding eye contact with him. His confidence was magnetizing and intimidating all at once; you couldn’t keep track of how many times your eyes wandered everywhere except for his eyes because of this.

“So, does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” He construed from your comment to which you responded by snapping your focus to his eyes, finally. You were met with this affectionate glare, unable to prevent a nervous laugh to fall from your lips.

“And so if it was?” You responded and painted the best poker face you could manage, not wanting to give anything way quite yet. Part of you wanted him to confirm his interest in you, after all his ring was green, not black like yours. It was the giant elephant in the room, and you both were well aware you weren’t soulmates. However, neither of you dared to bring that up. You didn’t know how to interpret his soulmate ring, or the fact that he wore it tonight.

Was it just force of habit? Did he wear it in hopes you’d be the one? Is he put off by the fact that it’s still green and not white?

“Well, I’d be relieved to know you feel the same way as I do.” He said a bit hesitantly, “I definitely want to see you again.” Jimin tightened his grip on your hand, arousing even more butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

After dinner, you and Jimin decided that you didn’t want the date to end just yet. So, when Jimin suggested you two take a walk in the park across the street, you happily accepted the offer.

The night was warm, and when you looked up the clarity of the thousands of stars was overwhelming. Your eyes traced the silhouettes of the trees that towered over you and him, your stare fixed on how the stars danced between the spaces of the branches and leaves. The back of your hand would occasionally brush against his throughout your conversation and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it at all.

“Favorite movie to watch when it’s rainy?” Jimin asked.

“Princess Bride.” You replied.

“Magic Mike.” He said and you giggled, nudging him lightly with your arm. “I can appreciate attractive men.”

“What’s your pet peeve?” You interjected.

“When people wear flip flops in winter. No one needs to see that.”

“Ah, well then you’d be really annoyed with me.” He looked at you, puzzled and worried. You tried to keep a serious expression but a smile crept on your face. “Kidding.”

He nudged you this time. You didn’t notice that you had migrated closer, or perhaps he to you, and your shoulders bumped gently against each other.

“I hate when people make that gross noise with their mouth when they eat.”  

“Oh, like this?” Jimin leaned his head towards your ear to imitate that sound to which you dodged your head away. He laughed at your disgust. The way you scrunched your face at this sound made him forget about how his shirt itched against his neck, or how he had been a bit drowsy as it grew late into the night, or that he needed to pee, or anything else that would have made him want to go home. You were here, and it gave him every reason to stay.

As the conversation began to die down, he resourcefully brought up a subject that was commonly discussed on dates, “So, has your ring ever turned white?” His question, though heavy, had an innocent intent. Of course, you couldn’t blame him for asking. He had no idea.

“Um…” You cleared your throat for you were significantly caught off guard, “Actually, my ring is black.” Your reply was slow and bore such heartache that subsequently slashed into Jimin’s chest as well. Silence seeped in. You looked away from the sky, dragging your feet gently against the ground. “It happened two years ago.”

“Oh,” Jimin responded. He’d never met anyone personally with a black ring, and a sudden wave of guilt washed over him, “I’m so sorry for your loss, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Jimin. Don’t worry about it.” Your tone revealed to him that it meant more to you than it did to most people, and he felt even guiltier now that this topic was of discussion. He cursed to himself regrettably, realizing how well the date had been going up to this point.

“No, for real. It was kind of a personal question.” He attempted to console you; his eyes never left you. “I guess I never really cared about the ring that much.” To be fair, his was still green so there was nothing much to worry about.

“Yeah, I get that. I’ve been cursed with a hopelessly romantic heart ever since I could remember. I blame it all on my mom. I’m pretty sure it’s hereditary.” You smiled to yourself, reminiscing in the countless times you would tell your mom you swore your ring looked white just to make her happy. You knew it wasn’t white and so did she, but you hoped so hard that sometimes, it did look white. He hummed lightly in response to you. He didn’t want to speak because to him, hearing you talk, even if it was ridden with sadness, was unquestionably the most beautiful thing. More so than heavenly bells or calm tides that washed against the shore.

“I don’t think that’s a curse.” You looked at him when he said this, only to find he’d already been staring at you.

Why did he look at you like that, like he was reading every detail of your soul with such ease? And yet, for some reason, you didn’t mind that maybe you’d become entirely transparent to him. You were okay with being seen by him; and you liked the way he looked at you, warm and gentle and kind and caring.

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, like I said, I don’t think much of these rings.” He glanced down to his own, “I wear it because there’s no harm in it, but I’ve known people who end up miserable because they were never able to find their soulmate.” He looked back to you, noticing how your eyes were glazed with tears. Jimin chuckled softly, to which you, now, instinctively replied with a smile.

Please laugh. Laugh again and again and again for it seems to be the only think that makes the hurt not hurt as much. You spoke this prayer internally.

“You’re describing me to a tee.” You said quietly, feeling a bit ashamed of how many years of pining that amounted to such a heartbreaking end. He nodded with compassion.

“Exactly. I don’t want to invalidate your pain. I can’t say that I know what you’re going through, but I want you to know you have every right to be upset over this. People are so desensitized to these rings, it’s a shame how lowly they are considered nowadays.” It was refreshing to hear such kind words. Every so often, you wished to care as little as everyone else. You could only wish.

“What about you?” You asked tentatively, “I know you say you don’t care much about the ring, but it must mean something to you for you to say that, right?” You tried your best not to sound accusatory but rather curious.

“Yeah. I do and I don’t care. I want you to know that part of me doesn’t care because um, I really like you.” He spoke genuinely and those damn butterflies kept pervading into your stomach, “But I have to admit I do care about it. A part of me thinks it would be nice to find them.” He paused, “I’ve grown to realize, though, that if I spend my entire life only searching for them, then that’s robbing me of so many life experiences. So of course, finding them would be nice, but not necessarily ideal. Soulmate or not, you can love someone. Just because they aren’t necessarily ‘the one’ doesn’t minimize the amount of happiness they bring into your life. Every day I find more and more that love never really runs out. You fall in love with a lot of things. Your best friend, or your dog, or your favorite book, or the way someone’s skin glows so beautifully against the moonlit sky.” He was quite obviously referring to you, and you had caught this. “And no matter how many things get added to that list, love never runs out.”

As he spoke, you pictured Wheein and your mom and the feeling you got when you finished an art piece you’d been working on for hours. There was no denying how incredibly happy that made you. Everything he had said was right.

“Not only that, there are the people who lost their soulmate and still find someone to love. So, if this is all possible, what good would it do to close myself off like that? And you’d never know if your love for your soulmate would actually be better than your love for someone else, right?”

“You’re absolutely right.” You said, and it was all you could say without crying your eyes out. Hearing someone express their ideas of love like that expanded your perception about the soulmate ring. Maybe you had been too quick to ward off any other chance of love that didn’t come from your soulmate. You’ve heard the speech a million times before, but when he said it, it resonated so deeply.

Walking in the park with Jimin that night, you really believed there was a way to love again. You missed that hopeful feeling. “Thank you. I don’t know how you knew, but that was something I needed to hear for a long time.”

Jimin gazed at you; your eyes were soft and sad. He felt this overwhelming impulse to grab your hand and profess that he’d never let anything hurt you like that black ring did. He, too, was a hopeless romantic but he kept that piece of him hidden. You were the one to effortlessly draw that side out form where it was kept safe from the world. He prospected it ironic, almost laughable, that you had no clue.

Be careful with your heart. He’d been repeating this phrase throughout the night but he felt his guard surrendering to you. He didn’t stop it either.

Every bone in his body was urging for him to keep his distance, to not cross the line yet, but his heart craved to kiss you.

You halted when he stepped close to you. You predicted what was about to happen, and the timing of it was exactly perfect, and imperfect; and it felt like it was supposed to happen. So, you let it because you wanted to allow yourself the chance at love again, even if it wasn’t with your soulmate. He leaned in with caution, allowing you to brace yourself as his lips became close to yours. You could feel so much warmth radiating from him. The crickets chirped and the wind stilled.

You closed your eyes as he was about to kiss you until you felt an extremely apparent shock in your chest. It wasn’t painful per say, but livening. You felt as if the part of you that had been dull for two years was suddenly revived. Your mind dared to wonder if what happened meant the impossible. You flinched and jumped back from Jimin, and his face grew worried.

“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, “Did I just read that situation completely wrong?” Jimin’s hand rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“No! No it wasn’t you, I just” You tried to reassemble your thoughts to form a proper sentence but you couldn’t focus on anything other than what that feeling in your chest meant. You knew it was no ordinary sensation. Its feeling held remarkable resemblance of that pain the day your ring turned black, but this time it wasn’t a heartbreak.

It could only be properly described as a surge of rejuvenation that rasped throughout your soul.

“Is there something wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He noticed you were clutching your chest tightly. He stepped towards you in a concerned manner.

“No, I’m okay, I just, I think I have to go.” You half-mindedly glanced at him, and then down to his ring which glowed green. Your longing to see that color shine from your own ring again had never felt stronger than right now. It was alarming how certain you were that something felt different.

He simply nodded, masking his disappointment with his kind smile. “Okay, I, uh, I hope to hear from you soon.” You returned a smile unable to respond to him with words, then walked away to your car. You felt awful for the way you ended things so abruptly with Jimin, but now was not the time to worry over that.

There was only one thing on your mind.

Before driving, you slowly reached to grab the ring and pull it out from beneath your dress. Your hand clamped tightly around it, hesitant to check its color. 

There’s no way.

You waited a few moments, gathering the courage to look and placating your mind which was overflowing with confusion and wonderment. Finally, your eyes slowly trailed down to your hand, you could feel the heat rising throughout your entire body. Your heart raced at a violent speed, just as it did two years ago. Every thought and feeling that ran through your mind and heart was painfully familiar.

Your eyes rested in suspense on your knuckles, turned white from how hard you were holding onto that ring.

You unfolded your hands.

And the ring glowed green.

You were certain you had blacked out on the ride home, being that the next moment you grounded yourself back to reality was when you were gracelessly running up to your apartment. Your hands shook as you fiddled with your key to unlock the door, which became an almost impossible task.

When you finally opened the door, Wheein was waiting restlessly on your couch. She stood up with a bright smile, “How was it?” She then noticed how out of breath you were which was confusing, “Why are you breathing so hard, did you run home or something?”

You walked up to her without saying a word and lifted the necklace. She shot you a look as if you had lost your mind, then looked down at the ring. Her eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth that hung open in awe.

“What. The. Fuck.” She uttered, her hand muffling her voice. You shook your head as you pulled the chain off then placed in her hand. She took it immediately and brought it close to her face. Wheein elongated her blinks to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her.

“Is that even possible?” She asked, her attention glued to the ring.

“I don’t know. At first, I thought maybe it was a glitch? But I felt this weird sensation in my chest. It felt like I was struck by lightening or something.” Your hand returned to where you felt the shock. Your memory of that feeling was strikingly vivid that you swore it’s aftershock still reverberated in your chest.

“___, I don’t think the universe or god, or whatever the fuck that conceived these rings, glitches.” Wheein laughed at your comment, “Thank god for the internet.” She said conclusively, as she motioned you to get your laptop.

You ran to your bedroom then returned with your laptop in hand. You then sat down at the table and Wheein quickly joined you. She placed the ring next to your laptop and leaned against the table with one hand while bending down until your computer screen was in eye-level. Suspense singed the air

Your fingers quickly typed into the search bar, ‘Can black rings turn green again?’

Wheein huffed as you scrolled through the extremely limited results, “It’s so annoying that you type actual questions into google.” You laughed at her impeccable ability to tease you.

“Is that so important right now? Of all times…” You shook your head, finding an article that seemed like a reliable source. “Okay, the Global Institute of Soulring Research says that there are extremely rare instances of blackened rings that returned to green. They’ve only received, uh,” You scrolled down the page, “14 reports of this occurrence?”

“Damn, 14? In the whole world?” Wheein commented with disbelief.

“These rare cases are exclusively due to heart transplants since it has been proven the rings are directly connected to the heart organ. However, there is no explanation as to why only a scarce 14 rings returned to green, while most rings remained black even after a successful heart transplant operation. Researchers theorized multiple explanations of this phenomenon, but none have shown sufficient data to prove why the color changed back. Studies are still being conducted by our laboratories stationed across the world, but scientists are unable to confirm the cause of these rare instances.”

“Holy shit. ___, does this mean that…” She hesitated, “You know.”

“My soulmate’s heart is in another person. That’s pretty much all we can assume at this point.” You said, your voice sounded deflated and unimpressed with the answer the article gave. You stood up and walked to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

Wheein took the chair when you left and read another few articles and data sites, most of which had minimal information on this predicament, “All these articles are saying pretty much the same thing.” She sounded just as disappointed as you did.

You returned, taking long sips of your water. “So, basically this means nothing? Just that my soulmate’s heart is in someone who isn’t my soulmate.”

Wheein was surprised at your lack of effort to formulate a theory that proved you had another soulmate, “No, not necessarily. Think about it!” She paused momentarily, and upon observing you weren’t in any mood to entertain her demands she continued, “There’s a reason most rings don’t turn green again! It may not be explained but I think the fact that it’s so rare means that your ring turning green again has some significance, right?” Her words grew desperate. You wanted to give in, but this whole situation didn’t feel real.

“And what if it means nothing?” You snapped, your words were abrasive.

There had been so much pent up anger that you had to lose your soulmate. You, one of the few people who never allowed their faith in the ring falter until your soulmates heart stopped beating, were the one that had to lose them. It was so unfair and you never forgave the world for taking that away from you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just” You felt instant remorse for snapping at Wheein. Your eyes grew wet, but this crying wasn’t sorrowful. It was frustrated and demanded retribution.

“I died that day. I lost something that already meant the world to me.” You took a deep breath attempting to calm yourself, “There’s no certainty that this new person would be anything close to my soulmate. I don’t think wouldn’t be the same even if I miraculously had another soulmate.” You rubbed your eyes to clear away the tears.

“I understand that but, it just doesn’t seem like a coincidence?” Wheein urged, her unwavering tenacity found its use now more than ever, “It’s almost like the universe gave you a second chance. A literal, second chance.” You smiled at her, agreeing whole-heartedly.

There was a long silence. She wasn’t saying anything you didn’t already believe; she was merely reminding that you could never stop chasing your soulmate. It wasn’t in your nature to give up like that.

“Maybe, I’m scared. But I know you’re right.” You sighed at your aggravating grit, “I could never be fully content knowing I didn’t try.” This brought a smile to Wheein’s face. “I made a promise to my mom years ago, I want to stay true to that.”

“That’s my girl!” She grabbed your ring and placed it back around your neck. You lowered your head to assist her and lifted it back up. It felt so light and warm, you’d almost forgotten that it wasn’t always cold and dark. Wheein picked up your phone and you rolled your eyes.

“What are you planning now, you evil mastermind.” You tried to see what she was doing but she quickly evaded this and shifted the phone away from your line of vision. You laughed lightly, “For real what are you doing?”

“Sh, I’m calling in sick to work for you.” She responded. You immediately reached out and snatched the phone from her hand before she could do anything of the sort.

“Um, absolutely not!” You held the phone behind your back and out of her reach. She instinctively pouted out her lip. “No! Don’t you use those puppy eyes at me!”

“But, this is a miracle! And that’s not even an exaggeration, this is a literal miracle! Mission: find ___’s soulmate is a-go!” You laughed loudly at this assertion, knowing it well-intentioned and wildly unrealistic.

“Now hold on, as tempting as that sounds, I can’t go rearranging my entire life for this soulmate. How about we save that for the weekends, deal?” Your eyebrows were raised hoping she would yield to your request.

“___, it’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore!” She claimed in a joking, dramatic way. “Certainly, you’re not the same girl who stood up on the cafeteria table and screaming ‘if anyone here is my soulmate you better show yourself right now!’” Her voice raised in pitch as she mimicked your younger self and her restlessness to find her soulmate. Your hand rubbed the inner corners of your eyes upon recalling that day in second grade, along with the years of teasing from almost everyone in your class. Wheein walked over to your kitchen and you figured it was impossible protest that what she said was wrong.

You did change. You had to.

“Well, I’m 20 now and have responsibilities like paying rent, utilities, and buying food because someone always eats me out of house and home! Look at you, you’ve already found your way to my pantry.” You laughed, this had become a sort of ritual when Wheein would come over. She just waved you off, proceeding to look through your stash of snacks.

You didn’t want to get into the real reason you had changed. At some point during the long period of grieving after your ring turned black, you lost that hope. You lost every sliver of hope because it was unreasonable. You missed it dearly, like an old friend.

It felt like that old friend suddenly walked back into your life with no warning. It never asked for your permission or waited for you prepare. It barged in without knocking and claimed its rightful place.

But you wondered if it was the ring that reunited you with this feeling. If not the green ring than what? Or more fitting to ask, Who?

Wheein was about to pass out on the couch before asking, “Oh, how did the date go by the way?”

That question twisted your insides. Your every thought prior to this halted. Your time with Jimin nearly slipped your mind but his laugh rang in your head.

You wished you could hear it again.

“It was good. Really good.” You smiled softly to yourself, knowing damn well what an understatement that was. Wheein was going to interrogate you about this tomorrow for sure but she was already half asleep.

As you were trying to fall asleep, two things seemed to be at war over which would take precedence in your mind.

One was who your soulmate is, and how you knew there was nothing in this world that could deter you from finding them.

Two was the fact that Jimin had single-handedly made you question everything you once believed about soulmates and love.

The next day you woke up to Wheein making some sort of racket in your kitchen. Before you were able to fully awaken, you began to wonder how big of a mess you’d have to clean up after Wheein was finished. This was followed by an incessant need to call Jimin and apologize profusely for abandoning him in the midst of your date. The only thing you could credit yourself with was handling things very, very wrong.

You stood up and sluggishly waddled to your bathroom. When you met with the mirror, you immediately noticed the green ring hanging from your neck reflecting to you. You’d almost forgotten. Your hand raised to touch it and make sure it wasn’t your imagination. This had been too surreal.

Next thing you knew, Wheein barged into your room, “Wakey Wak- wait where are you?” She searched your bed only to find you weren’t even in your room. Wheein turned around to discover you already out from the bathroom and sitting at the kitchen table.

“Oh! I made you breakfast! Even though you ruined the surprise and woke up before I could come get you.” Her passive-aggression made you smile. She joined you at the table where a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and two baked potatoes with cheese were laid out neatly.

“I give your presentation an A, but the real test is how it tastes.” You said, then scooping a bite of the eggs into your mouth, “Mmm, B-, they’re runny.” You said jokingly. Wheein crumpled up her napkin and aimed it right at your forehead. “Hey!”

“I’ll take that as a thank you!” She laughed and began to eat the breakfast.

“So um…” You swallowed your food and took a long sip of your orange juice, trying to stall what you were about to say, “Can I have, uh, can you give me Jimin’s number?”

Wheein nearly spit out the giant bite of pancakes she just stuffed in her mouth, “Really?” She spoke with her mouth still full of food.

“I just want to apologize about last night!”

Last night.

“Oh my god, wait I didn’t even ask you what happened! Tell me every detail!” She demanded, still paying no mind to her mouth overflowing with pancake. You laughed and cleared your throat.

Those butterflies came again just thinking about the date. You wondered if that feeling was going to become habitual every time you thought of him.

“I will later, can I just have his number so I can explain to him I’m not a total bitch?” You held your phone waiting for her to read you the numbers.

After she gave you the number while whining that she didn’t like to be kept waiting, you shushed her as you dialed.

The phone rang about four times before he picked up, “Hello?”

“Hi!” Your voice came out louder than anticipated which startled Jimin into fully waking up, “Sorry! Were you still sleeping?” You lowered your voice to an appropriate level.

“Yeah I was, uh, who is this?” Jimin replied, his voice was low and raspy in the mornings. That trait was alluring to you, so much that your attention lingered on the sound of his voice. You then quickly snapped back to reality.

“It’s ___! Sorry to wake you but I just wanted to call and tell you how sorry I am for dipping last night. I swear it wasn’t anything you did. I had a great time.” Your hand nervously tapped against the side of your leg.

On the other side of the phone, you heard his laugh. You were lucky he was one to laugh a lot.

“Hey! Good morning, ___. Don’t worry about it. I’m not as fragile as I look!” He laughed again before continuing, “Are you all good? You had me kinda worried.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was probably just a panic attack or something.” You lied through your teeth. Your palm met your forehead in ridicule of that but you hoped it was believable enough to explain your actions.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you’re doing better today.” His concerned response was comforting. Jimin sat up on his bed now fully invested in this conversation.

“I’m definitely better, thank you. I feel so bad though.”

“If you really feel bad then I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.” He said with a slight upturn in his voice.

He was flirting. You had no success with resistance. Jimin’s charm was enigmatic and had you not only reciprocating his energy, but willingly flirting back.

“Well, I usually charge big bucks for this, but yes, I’ll give you free dance lessons.” You playfully responded, feeling proud when he chuckled gingerly at your offer.

“You read my mind.” He paused. A momentary lapse of conversation occurred causing Jimin to frantically search for any lame, surface level question to ask you so you wouldn’t end the call.

“So, what are you up to today?”

“Well, I just woke up and I’m eating breakfast with Wheein. I think we’re planning on going to the mall later today. What about you?” Your fingers naturally started to twirl your hair. You felt like a giddy middle schooler when they would share a meaningless glance with their crush.

“I’ll probably go to the dance studio if it doesn’t rain today.”

“You should join us.” That response came a little too quickly and you swore you had no idea where or why you invited him.

All you were sure of was that you really wanted him to say yes.

“Are you sure? Last time I went shopping with Wheein she forced me to stop at the pet adoption and we stood there for an hour and a half while she swore to this one puppy she would come back and adopt it.” He recounted but was unable to explicitly say no to your offer.

“It’ll be fun!” You coerced, “Plus, we can eat delicious mall food.” You added with a sarcastic inflection.

“Alright, you convinced me. I’ll be there.” He never planned on saying no in the first place but utilized all the tricks in his book to prolong this conversation. “Only because that mall food sounds too good to pass up.”

You shook your fist excitedly in celebration and laughed at his repartee, “Okay, cool! Let’s meet up around two-ish, sound good?”

“Sounds great.” He said shortly prior to you ending the call.

Jimin held his phone against his chest and threw his head back onto his pillow. He chest heaved up and released a long sigh. Two o’clock couldn’t come sooner.

A month passed since your ring was green again. You continued to hang out with Jimin, however the romantic essence when you were together remained stagnant. He didn’t know what kept you at bay from ever moving things forward between you two, but he didn’t feel the need to ask. He always knew how to act around you even when there was something left unsaid. Your friendship did grow strong and quickly. Jimin felt like he knew you so well already, but yearned to learn more and more about you as the days came.

“Jimin, what’s that one piano guy that made the music for Swan Lake?” Wheein asked as she was scribbling some notes on her assignment.

“Piano guy? You mean Tchaikovsky?” He corrected.

“Oh yeah, great. Thanks!” She replied then mouthing the name Jimin had said while writing it down on the paper.

You returned from the kitchen with three sandwiches, “Here everyone! Gourmet pb and j’s made by yours truly.” You set them down one by one on the table where Jimin and Wheein were sitting.

The three of you had become somewhat of a team. Ever since the day at the mall, you guys made a habit of inviting Jimin along until it was a given that he would hang out with you. Wheein was already nicely acquainted with him and, now that his presence grew abundant in her life, she liked having him around. Not to mention that every time the three of you hung out it resulted in some of the fondest memories. Even though Wheein was just as close to Jimin as you were friendship wise, she was still a bit of a third wheel. She noticed how you two would exchange one too many glances and she’d constantly catch Jimin ogling at you while you were drawing or talking or doing pretty much anything.

Whenever you’d leave the room after a clear display of seemingly harmless flirting, Wheein would wiggle her eyebrows at Jimin and say, “You’ve got it bad.”

He wouldn’t say anything because there was no denying it was true.

“Do you have a band-aid I could use, Jimin? I accidentally cut myself with a knife.” You were looking down at your finger where a small cut resided. Wheein was confused but also quite amused with how that was even possible.

“___, you made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. How the hell did you cut yourself?” She asked with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, I wanted to cut off the crusts and cut them into little triangles! It’s cuter that way.” You gestured to the sandwiches which were in fact crustless and cut into triangles.

Jimin thought it was cute how proud you were of your PB and J presentation. Before you noticed how his eyes fondly laid on you, he nodded and said, “Yeah there should be some in my room, lemme show you where they are.”

“Thank you!” You followed him to his bedroom. As soon as you entered, you noticed it smelled exactly like him. This prompting you to inhale on instinct; it resembled what home would smell like if it had a scent. You then walked up behind him and waited for the band aid. Though you’d been in his room plenty of times before, you never stopped admiring how nice it looked. Most men have bland walls and bedsheets and desks but not Jimin.

Posters of his favorite bands, paintings, music scores, and pictures were hung along each wall. Your favorite being the photo of the dance team he’d coached for a junior league dance competition. Even though it was completely cliché, thinking about him interacting with children made you swoon. Something about his gentle positivity gave you an inkling that he was great with kids.

A variety of trinkets were placed neatly on his desk and bedside table. When you first asked them what they were, he excitedly explained the origin story of each and every one. Not once did you grow bored of him, though Wheein’s attention was entrapped in her phone not long after he began talking. If you were listening, he didn’t mind.

Jimin turned around and held up a small band aid, “Ah ha! I knew it was in here.” You peaked over his shoulder to discover his drawer was filled with various random, unorganized household items. You laughed at this, sometimes forgetting he was still a man after all.

“Jimin, how do you find anything ever?” You teased. He ignored your carp and replaced the tissue paper you held against your finger with the band aid.

“You’re very welcome.” It impressed you how he’d always know how to dismiss you when you would playfully criticize him. His hands were soft, and it became incredibly apparent that he was touching you. He finished positioning the band aid and seemed to realize your hands were touching too; his heart jumped and before anything got too tense, he pulled his hand away quickly. You nodded and thanked him. Your focus was pulled away from that moment when you noticed a new thing sitting on his bed side table.

It was a framed picture of what you guessed was a young Jimin and his mother. You walked over to it excitedly, leaning down to get a better look at it. “Oh my god, Jimin, this is adorable! Is that your mom?”

“Yeah,” He was giving you that same fond stare. Jimin came to realize you were the type to notice small things like that and expressed interest. These small gestures could easily be overlooked by anyone else, and usually people don’t care enough to make anything of these little details, but not you. You always noticed. Perhaps he was overthinking this trait of yours, but it made Jimin feel special in your eyes.

“Aw, lil’ baby Jimin! Look at your tiny little arms!” You squealed with eyes squinted from smiling. “What’s this one’s story?”

“My mom gave it to me for my birthday.” To this, you spun around and hit him with your uncut hand on his shoulder, “Ow!”

“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday? What the hell?” Your eyebrows were furrowed, positively astonished he would keep something like that from you.

“What? It’s not that big of a deal!” Jimin reasoned, rubbing the spot on his arm that you punched surprisingly hard.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘I hate my birthday’ people.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. If you had known it was his birthday, you and Wheein would have certainly plotted the best surprise party of Jimin’s life.

“Fine, then I won’t tell you.” He looked away from you coyly, and you laughed. Jimin looked to the ground trying not to get too embarrassed, “It’s true though. I don’t know why but birthdays are so weird and uncomfortable to me.”

“How is getting a bunch of presents, having people tell you how grateful they are to have you in their lives, and getting an entire day dedicated to your existence weird? How could you not like that? I love that!” You shook your head, unable to comprehend how any sane person wouldn’t enjoy a birthday.

“Well, you make a good point but that doesn’t cancel the fact that, one, I hate cake, two, I don’t like people feeling obligated to get me a present, and three, people singing happy birthday to you is so awkward! Like what do you even do, where do you look?” He spoke passionately, making you laugh even harder at how devoted he was to argue this point.

“Okay you’re right. Making eye contact with someone while they serenade happy birthday to you is wildly uncomfortable.” He nodded triumphantly to your response.

“See I-” Jimin was interrupted by Wheein walking into the room and slumping onto Jimin’s bed. You and Jimin turned to her.

“What’s taking you guys so long?” She complained, sinking comfortably into the bed, “Were you guys making out in here or what.” Jimin’s face turned red and you scoffed at her insolence. You knew she was trying to fluster you both in revenge for making her wait.

“Jimin’s just told me his birthday passed, and we missed it and he didn’t tell us on purpose.” You snitched on him to change the subject as quickly as possible. Wheein sat up and widened her eyes in exaggerated shock.

“How could you? I’ve never felt more hurt in my life than right now.” She insisted as you smugly looked to Jimin. He remorsefully bowed his head the same way a child would when he was caught doing something he knew wasn’t supposed to.

“I am at a loss for words. Ladies, my deepest apologies.” Wheein laughed and looked back at you.

“Wheein and I will let it slide this time. We’ll make up for it when you least expect it.” You winked at Wheein then looked at Jimin with a mischievous smile.

“She’s right.” Wheein affirmed.

You loved this. You loved the way you felt around him. You never wanted things to change despite the glaringly obvious mishap of your green ring. You wanted there to be no need to tarnish that. Sadly, you knew that could never be the case.

You and Wheein were impatient, to put it simply. When the two of you wanted to get something done, you both had this now or never mindset. There was nothing wrong with that in theory, however this meant Jimin’s birthday celebration would undergo planning as soon as possible. You suggested the idea of a fun trip to the beach late at night when the crowds had cleared. Wheein loved this idea and expounded upon that by requesting there would be food, but not cake, candles, balloons, confetti, and a decorative set up for the three of you to enjoy.

It was around 10:00 pm by the time you were finished laying out a large beach blanket and a basket of food, along with the balloons that were held down by rocks you had found along the shore, candles placed on tiny dishes so it wouldn’t cause a fire hazard, and a mini speaker to play music.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees this.” You took a few paces back to admire the finished product. Everything was decorated with extra detail being that you were an artist who preferred things to look aesthetically pleasing.

“We really knocked it out of the part with this one. We gotta take pictures when he gets here to remember all our hard work.” She stood beside you and joined in your reverence of Jimin’s surprise birthday picnic.

You received a text from the group chat that Wheein had made of the three of you.

“Oh, shit he’s almost here! Let’s get in position.” You bounced over to the front of the blanket, as well as Wheein, to hide the surprise from Jimin and picked up handfuls of confetti to toss when he arrived.

You could see his figure in the distance, now growing clearer as he approached the area you had set up. He tried to peak behind you both, curious of what you were standing in front. Before he could figure it out on his own, you and Wheein stepped aside and quickly threw the confetti up in the air. The small pieces of tissue flitted down ornately which tied the presentation together nicely.

“Surprise!” You said in unison with Wheein. Jimin threw his head back giggling and his hands crossed over his heart when he saw what you two had planned.

“You guys! What is this?” He took a few steps forward, bundling the two of you in a hug with each arm.

“It’s just our way of saying happy belated birthday.” Wheein answered, pulling you and him in tighter to the group hug.

Jimin pulled away and inspected the blanket and the items placed neatly over it. His hands cupped both his cheeks and he was so grateful that he’d almost forgotten how much he hated birthdays.

“I absolutely love it. Thank you, guys so so much.”

“Before you start worrying, there is no cake, there will be no singing, and this picnic is kinda our ‘gift’ so technically, no gifts!” You added, walking over to the blanket and seating yourself. You motioned for the other two to join you and they joyfully obliged.

The rest of the night was filled with lots of laughter, long talks, two emptied wine bottles as well as a plate now cleared of all its food, Wheein daring you to run into the water to which you refused adamantly, and exactly one corny speech from Jimin about how much he appreciated you and Wheein.

“A few months ago, I was so stressed and overwhelmed with life. I had this huge fight with my dance teacher and my boss told me she had to cut back my hours because we were overstaffed so I was worried about rent and stuff. If I’m being honest I wasn’t all that great mentally. I don’t know it was rough for a while. Then I met ___, and we all started hanging out and it made me really happy.” He looked down at his wine glass, trying not to get too emotional, “Anyway, I really appreciate you guys for being in my life.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, giving him a partial hug from the side. Wheein pretended to be disgusted with this, but you caught her tearing up while Jimin was talking.

“And we really appreciate you were born and didn’t get scared off by us when we forced you to become our friend.” You said before pulling Wheein into the hug.  

“This is the absolute worst timing but I have to pee…” Wheein huffed as she stood up contemplating what to do.

“The ocean’s right there.” Jimin said, holding his hand out to point to the shore.

“Absolutely not! Not in front of you!” She kicked him lightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll turn away!”

“No, I read this story once about how a worm swam up into someone’s – thing – when they peed in the ocean. I’m not about to have a parasite living with me, I’ve already got you two!” You nodded as this claim was irrefutable. Jimin laughed, never getting tired of Wheein’s hilarious quips.

“We can go back to my place?” You suggested.

“No no no, I haven’t even gotten to force you two to get into the water yet. And its only,” She paused to check her phone, “Twelve. Also, I thought we were gonna stay and watch the sunset!” She tapped her foot against the sand. “Okay, ___, give me your keys. I’m going to quickly drive to the gas station I saw a few blocks down and pee there. I promise I won’t abandon you guys here.” Wheein held out her hand to you, waiting for you to give her the keys. You fumbled in your purse and pulled them out.

As she ran to your car, Jimin shook his head still humored at what Wheein said, “She’s something else.”

“Definitely one of a kind.” You concurred. “On another note, I’m glad you enjoyed this. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry you would feel uncomfortable.”

“No, ___, this was perfect.” He said reassuringly. Jimin gazed at you every chance he got. You were looking at the sky and admiring the way the stars shined so brightly. To you, they always seemed to glow significantly more when it was you and Jimin underneath them. He revered the way you looked so in love with the stars, or how you looked so in love with life in general even after what you had been through, and felt his heart race at the sight of your hair flowing gently in the breeze. “You nailed this one, ___.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said confidently as you brushed your shoulders to display your pride. Jimin chuckled at your action.

His laugh. His damn laugh. You thought to yourself and if you could, if you had any ounce of courage, you’d ask him to never stop laughing.

The song “Moon River” began to play on the speaker; Audrey Hepburn’s exquisite voice filled the air. Jimin was aware about how fitting this song with to the ambiance of the night that now only belonged to the two of you. When Wheein left to go to the restroom, the platonic atmosphere followed.

“I actually do want a birthday present.” He spoke quietly. “Dance with me?” Jimin’s nervous laughter trailed his question.

You looked at him unsure of how to interpret this painstakingly romantic request. But, how could you say no when he smiled like that? You nodded without saying a word.

He stood up eagerly and lowered his hand to you. Your hand held his as he pulled you up and stepped close to you. Jimin’s free hand traveled to the small of your back, sparking light tingles that cascaded down your spine. Your free hand met his shoulder; originally your muscles were stiff but the way he swayed you had naturally relaxed you. Eventually your head rested on his opposite shoulder and you felt his head rest gently on yours. As the music played, you felt as if not just this moment, but the whole world belonged only to you and Jimin.

He could have confessed his love for you, but instead he said, “You look beautiful tonight.”

Your heart raced.

“Thank you.” You said quietly after a short while. “You look beautiful too.”

“Thank you.” He whispered. You two swayed along for another three songs in silence, and you and jimin would have danced forever if that were an option.

“At this point, you should just quit dancing because I’m clearing running circles around you, Jimin.” You pulled your head back to look at him, and you noticed it looked as if he’d been crying. However, you didn’t say anything about it because you knew why. You were terrifyingly aware and at the same time in denial about how surely you knew why.

“Yeah, you still never gave me those free dance lessons. I’m not letting that go.” He smiled brightly causing his eyes to squint. You scrunched your nose at him and looked down.

“That’s right. Maybe I should show you some moves right now?” You offered.

Jimin raised his eyebrows then swiftly spun you around and wrapped his arm around your lower back to dip you. You gasped and laughed in shock, your head falling back slightly as he held you in this position. When he pulled you up, you were both unable to let the smiles you had subside. He reached his hand to gently remove a strand of hair from your face, curling it delicately behind your ear.

He was seven years old again. His love raged again. This time it was you who planted themselves in his life and he wanted to give you all the water and nutrients and sunlight to grow in his heart forever.

The boy stepped away slowly and gestured for you to, as he put it, show him your moves.

“Okay hold on.” You retrieved your phone and scrolled through your music playlist to find a song that best suited what you were about to do, “Perfect!” An upbeat 80s disco song began to play.

You then contorted your body in a way to resemble a robot, “Check this out.” You lifted your arm and swung it to imitate a machine-like movement. Jimin found this too good to let it go to waste and secretly filmed on his phone what you were doing.

“I can see you’re taking a video and I’m only letting you do that because it’s your birthday.” You then proceeded the switch to a different dance move, “I like to call this the wave. I’m sure a rookie like you hasn’t heard of it.” You raised both of your arms to shoulder level and rolled them back and forth.

“Wow, your technique is absolutely immaculate!” He commended while laughing so hard he gripped his stomach and bent over. He soon joined you in dancing around in the sand.

“What are you two weirdos doing?!” You both turned around to find Wheein running over from the car with her hands cupped around her mouth as she called out.

“Dance party!” You yelled which was overlapped by Jimin’s voice.

“We’re dancing!”

Wheein laughed as she neared the two of you. “Last one in the water has to clean up our stuff!” She said while passing you and Jimin and heading straight for the water.

Jimin was quicker to react and chased after Wheein, pushing her lightly to throw her off track, soon followed by you racing to catch up. Though you swore you wouldn’t go into the water, you ran towards it with no hesitance. You’d follow them anywhere.

“No fair, you got a head start!” Soon all three of you crashed into the water. The waves were tame, but they still had a slight force that pushed the water as high as your waist.

Wheein pulled you in deeper and Jimin splashed the water at you two. You both screamed and laughed and played like children.

You wished that night would never end.

The minute you decided to tell him your ring was green again; you knew things would have to change and you dreaded it. It grew increasingly difficult to keep that from him and a part of you felt like you were misleading him by not telling him the truth.

“I owe it to him. I don’t know exactly what’s going on between the two of us. I clearly think of him as more of than friend. I’m not denying that, but you know I can’t do anything about that, not with this.” You’d say as you held up your ring for reference.

“You don’t have you. You could just let things play out and hope for the best?” Wheein suggested knowing this wouldn’t suffice.

“I can tell he likes me more than a friend. I can see it every time he looks at me with those puppy eyes.” You gave her a disapproving look and she nodded.

“I know you’re right. I just don’t want Jimin to be too hurt, you know? The guy is a softie at heart.”

She was right. Jimin would act like nothing ever affected him, but out of the three of you, he was the most sensitive and experienced his feelings the most intensely. Just the idea of what his face would look like or how his smile would dwindle when you told him about your ring made your heart drop to your stomach. There was no way to avoid this, because like you said, you owe Jimin complete honesty and you refused to abstain anything less than what was best for him.

“I know, and I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself for doing this.”

“You didn’t let me finish. He’s a softie, but so are you. ___, I’m worried about you too. Are you sure letting this go is the right decision? I can tell you’re already starting to miss him and you haven’t even let him go yet.” She placed her hand on your back to comfort you. Wheein knew you well enough that she didn’t have to ask how you were feeling.

“I appreciate your concern, but I have to do this.” Anticipation began to seep through your veins. “Right? I mean my whole life I’ve been dedicated to ending up with my soulmate. I’ve ended things with so many guys before things got too serious. And I had no problem doing it then, but this time.” You began to tear up picturing Jimin, “It’s so much harder.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do. That’s up for you to decide but I hope you know I will support your decision. Whichever it is.” Wheein pulled you into a hug, soft and reassuring. You propped your chin on her shoulder and ran your hands along her upper back.

“Thank you.” You said quietly.

As you pulled away, you looked down at your ring and for once, you didn’t feel that excitement upon seeing it green. Instead, it became burdensome that you felt this obligation to honor it. You were beginning to feel trapped. As if this decision wasn’t up to you anymore, but to this ring.

A few days later, you and Jimin were sitting out in the same park that you walked along on your first date together. The grass danced with the wind and the tree that loomed above the two of you provided the perfect amount of shade from the sun. Gentle rays of sunlight permeated among the leaves and their shadows danced along yours and Jimin’s bodies. The air felt clean and cool, giving perfect ambiance to spark inspiration for your artwork.

Jimin was laying down beside you, staring up at the sky while you two chatted nonsensically for hours.

“I’ll give you five bucks if you can guess what kind of bird just chirped.” He spoke lazily while his eyes trailed their way to you.

“Ostrich.” Your replied with a candid tone and your eyes transfixed on the page in front of you. Jimin chuckled lightly which diverted your attention to him as it always did.

“Just for that I’m eating the rest of your blueberries.” He shoved all of them in his mouth causing his cheeks to puff out. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find that adorable, and yet you played it off with a unimpressed glare.

“I was gonna eat those, butthead.”

These small exchanges would fill the silence every so often. But even when neither of you spoke, you felt no desire to say anything. Just sitting with him in that park was enough to delight you.

You stared at Jimin as his eyes traced the puffy clouds above. With your pencil in hand, inspiration struck. This scenery was so picturesque, it would be a crime to not capture every bit of joy it exuded.

You turned to a blank page in your sketchbook and started to outline the shape of Jimin’s face and body. Your pencil glided against the paper gently, that sound of charcoal running along the pages of your sketchbook grew fond to Jimin’s ears. He rarely looked at what you would draw because he knew your sketchbook functioned as your version of a diary; he simply loved that sound because it meant you were beside him.

You quickly sketched each curve of his body along with the bed of grass on which he lied and the tall tree behind him with as much precision as you could before he shifted positions. Then you began to add shading and small details that livened the drawing a bit more. Once you were finished, you held your finished work out to examine whether you were satisfied with it. You nodded to yourself then nudged Jimin.

He turned his head towards you and raised his eyebrows in substitution of a vocal acknowledgment.

“Look.” You gently tossed your book onto the grass near his head.

He quickly sat up and lifted the book with both hands. He rested it on his lap and gazed at it for quite a while. A smile slowly appeared on Jimin’s face and he thought to himself how beautifully accurate you were at being able to capture these moments in life. This moment was precious to him, along with every other moment he spent with you doing nothing.

And those nothing moments were everything to him. They were everything to you too.

“___, you never cease to blow me away.” Jimin spoke in a whisper because he only wanted you to hear. He wanted so desperately to kiss you.

Oh god, your conscious couldn’t handle keeping it in anymore. You had to tell him.

“So um, Jimin. I don’t know how to say this…” You laughed nervously due to how uncomfortable you were with this even before the conversation started.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed, and before he could realize what was about to be said was going to be serious, he said, “I know what you’re going to say. You lied and totally didn’t watch the movie I recommended to you!”, earning a soft chuckle from you. It substantially lighted the mood. He tied with Wheein for always knowing how to ease your nerves without even trying.

But your face returned blank when you finally gathered the courage to blurt it out, “My ring turned green again.”

His smile vanished and it was an absolute tragedy you were the reason for that.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin.” He knew what this meant. He knew what you were going to say before you even said it. He stood up and paced around the area, prompting you to get up and trail behind him. He had a habit of lacking the ability to sit still when he was facing something that troubled him.

He struggled to figure out what he felt about this. Every emotion blurred and converged into one unsettling mess.

“I’m not going to pretend like this is easy for me because its not. I like you and spending time with you has made me so so happy, please believe me when I say that.” Your voice began to shake. Jimin hated when your voice sounded anything but cheerful.

“I know it sounds like bullshit, but I’m being honest, god, I can’t convey how much you mean to me. I know we only met months ago but I feel like what we have isn’t some fling. Like, you’re already one of my best friends.” Those words, though consoling in theory, pained Jimin so deeply. He wanted to be more than that.

“I don’t think of you as some back up to keep me from being lonely if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d be damned before I let you believe that, but I can’t just ignore-” The hundreds of things you were practicing in your head had spilled out of your mouth in a jumbled mess. It was much more difficult to say these things to Jimin than your bathroom mirror or Wheein.

“Stop,” He spoke with such poise that you did nothing more but obey. His footsteps halted and You pressed your lips together in fear of what was about to be said. He was staring at the grass, the green color mocked him. Jimin hated green right now.

It pained you to see he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you.

He’s going to hate you forever. You thought to yourself and you tried to brace your heart for losing him forever. All because you lacked the backbone to be honest with him from the beginning.

He didn’t speak for a while, for what felt like an eternity. The wind that whipped against the leaves of the trees and blades of grass filling the silence you were once comfortable in.

Jimin suddenly turned around and wrapped his arms around you; your head was pressed tightly against his chest and his chin rested gently atop your head so perfectly. You could feel how hard his heart was beating, each tap synchronized with your heart.

“You idiot, why are you apologizing?” Your eyes closed to obstruct any tears that were about to form.

“You know why.” Your words were muffled, which Jimin found tortuously adorable. “You can hate me if you want.”

He laughed softly, that alone expressed more to you than any number of things he could say.

The sound of his laugh that you’d grown to miss on the days you hadn’t seen him never sounded so beautiful. When he laughed, he painted himself on a canvas for you to admire and with each stroke he added, you were able to learn every intricate detail of him.

Jimin’s laughter spoke to you, you swore it. You clearly heard it tell you that he could never and would never hate you. Comfort and ease. You never felt anything less than comfort and ease in his arms.

“___, I know how much this means to you.” He planted a soft kiss against your head which felt like a goodbye. Not to you, but to the hope that he could ever take the place of your soulmate. The smell of your hair exuding off so gently, and he thought you smelled like vanilla and stardust. Jimin did everything he could to sound strong. He wanted nothing but to be happy for you, and if this meant he had to let you chase after your soulmate there was no way in the world he’d let his feelings stop you from doing that. “I’m already planning a want ad that will be posted on every building within a hundred-mile radius!” His voice rose in enthusiasm. You could tell it was all a façade.

“You don’t have to act like you’re okay.” Your head nestled against his chest.

“I am.” He quickly replied then repeated, “I am.”

If only he could have made this easier on you. If he would have gotten mad or yelled at you or said he would never forgive you then doing this wouldn’t hurt as much as it did. But he did none of that. He was ever so kind and understanding and selfless.

You nuzzled your face deeper into his chest as a cross between a sigh and a laugh released from you. He acted like he didn’t care that you had just “broken up” with him. Jimin was nothing if not selfless.

Your ring was green. You had another chance to find your soulmate; it was everything you’d ever hoped for your whole life. So, why did you feel like you’d just made a mistake?

“Jimin, I know I hurt you. I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want to lose you. I just,” You huffed, “I just should have been honest. I’m sincerely sorry. You are the last person I want to hurt.” Jimin looked down at you and you stared up at him. He couldn’t stand when you frowned, which inclined him to use his thumbs to lift the sides of your mouth, so it looked like you were smiling. You laughed at this sweet gesture.

“This soulmate of yours better not be a dancer or we’ll have a problem.” He joked in attempt to evade how true what you said was. You threw your head back laughing again.

All Jimin really cared about was that you were always in his life. And even though it felt like you had ripped every root of yourself out of him, he knew he would keep that spot in his heart empty for you. 

For you, and every nothing moment. Nothing was everything with you,

You were completely drenched in sweat and jolted awake from your sleep. Your first instinct was to call Wheein, but you remembered she had an exam the next day.

You then picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You pressed the call button with your thumb and brought the phone to your ear.

The phone rang shortly before being picked up, “Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.” You greeted her softly. Her voice was soothing and low.

“What’s wrong, honey?” She asked since it was late in the night and you calling her only meant it was fairly important.

“I just had this really weird dream.” You answered, still perplexed and trying to remember the details of it. You shut your eyes to picture the dream before it faded from your memory, “I was in art class and we were doing this activity where we had to close our eyes and draw something that made us happy. It was something to like exercise our skills of drawing with emotion rather than precision, something like that.” She hummed, listening intently to what you were describing.

“Okay, and so I did it and I wanted to draw what I imagined my soulmate would look like because duh, you know me.” You stood up and paced around your dark room.

“Yes, that sounds about right.” Your mother chuckled softly while she quipped back to you.

“Okay but when I opened my eyes you would not believe who I drew.” You stopped for a second envisioning the face that stared back to you. It made you tense just thinking about it.

“Who?”

“It was Jimin.”

“Jimin? That nice young man you’ve been hanging out with recently. I think you’re absolutely smitten, honey.” Your mom sounded so casual when saying this.

“But…” Your pacing began to speed up, “He’s not my soulmate. I- I don’t know what to think of this. Maybe it’s just my brain? It’s not like you can control what you dream.” You began to ramble in attempts to affirm this didn’t mean anything serious.

“I don’t know, ___. That is an oddly specific dream.” She sounded critical of your aversion to admit this. “Why not give him a chance?” She suggested hesitantly.

“What?” You scoffed in amazement, “I can’t believe you out of all people would say that.” You knew that she knew exactly where your confusion was coming from.

“I know.”

“So why would you say that? I mean, finding my soulmate was something both you and I wanted ever since I could remember?” You grew exhausted from your pacing and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Look. I wanted you to believe in your soulmate. You’re right in that, but it wasn’t just your soulmate I wanted you to believe in. All I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted, was for you to never give up love itself. This world has a way of breaking your heart countless times, and I’ve been around enough to see how empty people’s lives are if they live without love in it. I just wanted to teach you that living a loveless life was meaningless. I refused to allow you to live a meaningless life. I thought that your soulmate ring would act as a reminder that I loved you and I believe you deserved to be loved, but it grew into some dependence on finding your soulmate. ___, when your ring turned black, I realized my mistake. I shouldn’t have glorified the ring as much as I did because ring, or no ring, soulmate, or no soulmate, there is no denying that you have feelings Jimin. I can hear it in your voice every time you talk about him. You’d be insane or oblivious to not pick up on that and I know you’re neither of those things.” Your mother waited for you to respond.

You remained silent and still. Your eyes had spaced out to glare at the corner of your room. Coming from anyone else, you would have disregarded their opinion on what you felt for Jimin; your mom, however, was an entirely different story. Hearing it out loud triggered a domino effect in your mind. You realized that your perception of what your mother had been trying to teach you was warped by your obsession with this ring. That hit you and crumbled you like a bulldozer broke down a brick wall. This left you wondering how you’d reconstruct yourself from this. You’d always thought that you were better than those who don’t care about your ring, but now you worried that your intense dedication to it burdened you for your entire life.

It wasn’t your mother to be blamed. You fed the fire more than anyone else could and you see that now.

“Wow.” You were speechless, “I’m an idiot.” You said as if that were some monumental revelation. “He’s not my soulmate and he still has his soulmate out there too.”

“Yes, but you love him. That trumps all reason and resistance. Love will always trump all of that.” A blunt rebuttal spoken with such softness from your mother. “I think you should talk to Jimin.” Your mother said in that classic mother knows best tone.

“I think I agree.”

You and Wheein sat against the back wall of the small dance practice room. Each wall was covered with large mirrors and you’d grown acquaint to this environment. Jimin had been rehearsing a routine for his next show; it was in two weeks and despite him saying that it was one of his less important performances, you insisted you’d be there in the front row cheering a little too loudly.

Your eyes would waver between your sketch book, then to Jimin, then to your book, and back to him. You did your best to portray his dancing as graceful as it was to see in person, but you found it impossible. There was no way to recreate such beauty; this was the one thing that your art could never quite achieve, for every imitation of his movements were inferior, pathetic almost, to the real thing.

Wheein, on the other hand, was far from invested in Jimin’s practicing which didn’t come to a surprise.

She wasn’t utterly in love with him.

She peeked over to your drawing followed by rolled eyes. She grabbed her phone and texted you with a disapproving expression.

Wheein: so are u going to ask him to marry u now or later?

The text notification caught your attention. You looked at her as if to ask why she would text you when you were sitting right next to her. She only nudged you in response to coax you to look at the text. When you finally read it, you shot her another look, this time it exemplified your annoyance.

She sent another text.

Wheein: ???

You tried your best to make this exchange as inconspicuous as possible. You began typing aggressively to release some frustration.

y/n: u suck :p

Wheein laughed and responded.

Wheein: that doensn’t answer my question ;)

y/n: ya we’re planning on a destination wedding

Wheein: lol have you guys talked one on one since that day??

y/n: no and I’m on edge bc I have no idea what he’s been feeling these past few days

Wheein: damn ___ its been a week and y’all haven’t talked yet

y/n: i know :/

Wheein: well just talk to him tonight before everyone else comes

Wheein and Jackson had planned to have a kickback before the new semester came into session. She convinced you to host it on the condition she would provide the snacks and drinks. Jackson and his girlfriend, Seokjin, Sana, Yeji, all friends of you met in college, Dahyun, the girl Wheein had been dating for a few weeks, and Jimin were all going to your place later that night.

y/n: lol… you think talking about how I’m secretly in love with him right before getting drunk with our friends is a good idea???

Wheein looked up from her phone and responded with an aloof shrug. You let out a suppressed snicker and looked back down at your phone.

y/n: you’re so annoying

Wheein: at least im not a pussy!

You only replied with a middle finger emoji. You and Wheein were so invested in your virtual conversation, neither one of you had realized Jimin had finished practicing. He walked over to the two of you unsuspectingly and sat down on the other side of you. You fumbled to lock your phone before he could see your conversation while simultaneously trying not to seem like you were hiding something from him.

“You did a great job! I can’t wait to see you perform that.” You gave him an encouraging smile, slyly setting your phone on the floor.

“Thanks.” He said while panting lightly, “I kept messing up on a few steps though. I definitely need to polish up on that.” His hand ran through his hair. Your eyes watched this with the same concentration one would watch a football game coming to its last quarter. You couldn’t help how your gaze traveled down to the way his shirt clung against his chest.

Jimin pointed at your water bottle, “Do you mind?” This snapped you out of your trance.

You shook your head and stared at your sketchbook with such intensity, Jimin noticed how odd you were acting.

“What’s up?” His asked this casually but because you were hiding the fact that you were in literally love with him you felt like this was an interrogative question.

“I’m just,” You paused, beginning to touch up the sketches you had made of Jimin while he was dancing, “I’m not satisfied with how this turned out. Also, you danced well. I couldn’t even tell you messed up.” You did your best to sound distant and uncaring.

Jimin hid his smile by taking a sip of your water. “Thank you.”

Meanwhile, Wheein had witnessed all this occur right before her eyes. She was equally disgusted and embarrassed at how horridly tense that conversation had been. In a perfect world, she would have shoved both of your heads together to initiate a forced kiss because she knew damn well neither of you would ever be the first one to make that move, especially after everything that happened. All she could do was stand by and watch in agony.

“Whenever you two are finished, I’d like to shower before everyone comes over.” Wheein added a touch of retort in her words, hoping you would pick up on what she really wanted to say. “Jimin, you definitely need to shower too.”

You and Jimin laughed as you all stood up and began exiting the practice room. He threw his arm around Wheein in retaliation for her jab. “Oh, you don’t like my sweat?”

She cried out a loud ‘ew’ in disgust and forcefully shoved him away. You watched them bicker, and today was the first day since your ring turned green again that you hadn’t thought about your soulmate once.

Jackson and Nayeon arrived early to help set everything up. He also came to give a last-minute warning that he had invited a few of his friends from work over as well.

“I told him he shouldn’t, but when does he ever listen to me?” Nayeon scolded to which Jackson rolled his eyes. You laughed, appreciating her efforts in attempting to get Jackson not to do something he had his sights set on.

“It’s okay. You can just order something really expensive the next time he pays for dinner.” You said while grabbing an extra pack of red solo cups from your cabinet.

“I do that regardless.” She said with a loud laugh. Jackson nodded in admittance and kissed her cheek lovingly.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” You and Nayeon laughed at his sarcastic remark. She joined in helping you set up to compensate for the fact that Jackson didn’t apologize. You weren’t too upset, though; you knew him too well to believe him when he said he was only going to bring Nayeon tonight.

As the night went on and your apartment slowly filled with around thirteen people, some strangers and some friends, you were on the edge of being drunk to being really drunk. Everyone else was either at you level or a bit ahead of you. Wheein had already hopped on your couch to perform a ballad dedicated to how much she loved her friends.

“This one’s for YOU!” Her voiced boomed louder than the speaker and if you weren’t so intoxicated, you’d be worried about the neighbors filing a noise complaint. Wheein pointed at you then began pointing at everyone else in the room watching in amusement, “This ones for ALL of you! Even Jackson’s friends I don’t even know!”

This elicited a laugh from all of Jackson’s coworkers. One called out, “Do you remember my name?”

“Definitely not but I LOVE you!” She laughed turning red in the face then continuing with her heartfelt serenade to everyone in the apartment. “Dahyun, you’re the cutest girl in the whole wide world. It is very important that you know that! Hey! Everyone! I’m dating the cutest girl in the world!” Dahyun burst out bashfully in giggles, lifting her hands to shield her face.

Your eyes met with Jimin’s as you exchanged looks. He swayed his body from side to side with a bright smile as Wheein sang loudly off-key, and you lifted your shoulders and shook your head in astonishment at how hilarious and sappy Wheein was when she was drunk.

After Wheein’s display of affection, she plopped down on the couch and slouched while reaching for her drink to take a few sips. Things simmered down as the group began to drunkenly chat about something you didn’t pay any attention to. You walked over to Wheein, trying your best not to lose your balance, and sat down next to her.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink.” You said through fits of giggling and she groaned at your unrelenting responsibility even when you were drunk. You snatched the cup out of her hand and chugged the last of the drink, “But I definitely haven’t.”

“Heyyyyyyy!” She slurred, “That was mine!”

“I’m doing you a favor.” You patted her head. “Also, I approve of Dahyun. But she’s not the cutest girl in the world, that title is already taken by you.” You nudged her lovingly and her head tossed around as she laughed.

“Shh, I love you. You’re the best friend ever.” Her words had slurred even more.

Wheein stood up suddenly and marched sloppily over to your bedroom door, “Pssst, I’m going to pass out now and wake up with a hangover tomorrow, so I bid you all a goodnight!” Dahyun led her to the bedroom and kissed her goodnight. She saluted then disappeared into your room.

“Looks like I’ll have to take care of that tomorrow.” Yeji and Sana laughed at this comment, knowing how whiny Wheein would get even if she had the slightest headache.

You, Namjoon, and Nayeon were looking at pictures of her and Jackson’s trip to the mountains last weekend. Although sober you would have been genuinely excited to hear about it, you found yourself struggling to focus your eyes on the pictures, only offering witless answers. Luckily, Namjoon was much better at holding his liquor and Nayeon was an even bigger extrovert when she was drunk which explained why she didn’t even notice you were barely paying attention.

“So, Jimin, how did your date with that girl go?” You heard your friend Seokjin ask.

This sobered you instantly and you found it eerie how your attention focused on what Jimin was going to say. He looked down at his cup trying to find the words to properly describe it.

“It was okay. She was cute and laughed at all my jokes which boosted my ego.” He smiled softly, but it was merely a condolence to the fact that he couldn’t have admitted he didn’t have as much interest in her as he hoped.

“Damn, you’re not that funny so she must have really liked you.” He jabbed with suggestive implications. Jimin laughed at this and nodded in agreement but his smile slowly faded when he scanned the room only to find that you’d been listening to the conversation.

Your intoxication wore away your ability to hide exactly what you were feeling, as a disgruntled expression lingered on your face. The second he looked at you, your head snapped away from his in humiliation as if he hadn’t already seen you were eavesdropping. 

The night came to an end which was a relief to you. You didn’t know how much longer you could put up a happy, carefree attitude. Whenever your mind almost wandered away from Jimin’s date, it swarmed back into your thoughts and focus and provoked irritation with no restraint.

One by one, your friends left. Jackson cleaned up the last few empty cups, tossed them in the trash, and wiped down your table and counter before he left, hoping that would make up for how he had encumbered your plans. Jimin was laying on the couch so you didn’t bother kicking him out. You guessed he was going to spend the night since he was too drunk to drive anyway.

Your legs moved in a staggered manner and you floundered around the kitchen trying to find your cups. You leaned on the counters for support groaning softly to yourself. Thinking about Jimin on a date, flirting the way he’d flirt with you, or laughing for someone else that wasn’t you was enraging. You couldn’t tell whether it was the alcohol or the fuming envy that made you feel dizzy. It was realistically both those things.

You heard light footsteps approaching you, impeding on your pathetic sulking. You spun around quickly to see who it was which, in hindsight, was the worst possible thing you could do. Before you got the chance to give a face to the presence, your eyes began to see patches of black and your hand caressed your head to keep yourself from passing out on the floor.

“Woah.” You gasped trying to recollect your composure both mentally and physically. A few seconds later you felt two familiar arms wrap around your waist in assistance. The way those limbs delicately held you indicated exactly who it was.

“Hey, hey.” His voice was gentle as he was using his lower register, “You okay?” He was so close to you that you could feel his breath that smelled of liquor against your skin. Your hands wandered to rest against his chest, and you looked up at him. His cheeks tinted a soft pink color. Jimin grinned lightly when you made eye contact with him.

“I’m okay.” You mumbled under your breath, not wanting to speak too loudly because you felt your undigested food threaten to come back up your throat. You face inched dangerously close to his, and he didn’t stop you because of his drunken state. Your chest heaved erratically due to your nausea.

“I’m fine.” You sneered pushing him away with the little might that you had left.

“___, you’re still drunk.” He stumbled back and sounded disappointed which made you feel even angrier.

“Well you are too.” You accused feeling a bit demeaned by his tone. He didn’t say anything to this as his arms lazily returned to his side. “You went on a date? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know?” You were annoyed at his resistance towards you. “I’m your friend. Friends tell each other things like that. What? Did you think I would be mad at you?” You stepped forward feeling bold and confrontational, as a result of your drunkenness. He crossed his arms, refusing to yield to you.

“I never said that.” He looked down at the floor, fueling your agitation even more. You wanted him to look at you. “You don’t seem so happy about it, that’s for sure.”

You let out a groan that dragged out for a bit, “What are you talking about, I’m absolutely ecstatic for you.” You jabbed pettily as you walked past him to continue your search for a water glass. He rolled his eyes at your abnormally aggressive and childish attitude.

“You have no right to be mad.” Jimin grumbled while watching you struggle to find a glass. He reached for the correct cabinet and held out a cup to you. You begrudgingly took the cup from his hand and stumbled over to the sink, briefly losing your balance before catching yourself against the counter. He reflexively reached his arm out to catch you in case you fell.

“You don’t think I know that?” You spat with your voice raised slightly, “You don’t think that I know you’re allowed to go on dates with other girls? You don’t think I want to be happy for you?” You started to get worked up and worried you would let something slip out that you would regret.

“Well it doesn’t seem like you’re trying at all.” Jimin walked to the other end of the kitchen and leaned back against the counter.

“What’s it to you?”

“Oh, I don’t know?” Jimin responded sarcastically, “I kind of have a problem with you being mad at me after you were the one who turned me down.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stuttered over your words.

“I don’t know what I’m talking about.” He repeated what you said to confirm your audacious comment. “Oh, so, I imagined when you said you couldn’t be with me because of your soulmate ring?”

“Jimin, don’t.” You warned.

“No, I clearly remember that you said you weren’t interested. And as much as that hurt and I wanted to tell you that I wanted you to choose me I would never do that. At least I could be kind enough to not take that out on you. And now you’re mad at me for trying to get over you? I should have known not to fall for you. Fuck, I tried to tell myself I made up the connection we had to make me feel better about this. To make this,” He gestured to you and him, “whatever this was not real. I thought if I could convince myself our connection wasn’t real then maybe I could cope with the fact that I’d never get to be with you.”

You began to cry but your buzz was strong enough that all caution was thrown to the wind. You cried unconstrained.

“I’m mad because I know I have no reason to be mad but here I am!” You gestured vivaciously as your passion began to boil over. “I’m mad because-” You took a second to catch your breath, “I don’t know. I’m just mad and I’m sorry. Of course, it’s not your fault but I can’t help the way I feel.”

“Right.” He said coldly, unimpressed with this answer.

“What do you know? You don’t know anything! You don’t know me or what I’m thinking.” This attack was meant to hurt him as much as it hurt you to say. You stomped over to him, spilling a bit of water on your hand and the floor.

Jimin stood up and stepped forward to counter you, causing you to stumble back a bit. His face was so close to yours once more and he could now clearly see your dampened eyes and the way they looked at him with frustration. You regained grounding and tried not to seem intimidated. He could be so gentle and light when he danced, but right now he looked so indestructible that not even a tank could move him

“I don’t know you?” Your skin tingled from the bitterness that stained his voice. He scoffed, running his hand through his hair. Your eyes vigilantly watched him and your heart pumped at an unhuman rate. You prayed he couldn’t tell he had this power over you.

His eyes pierced back at you with such intensity that you wanted to cry harder. You wanted to tell him every bit of how you felt and how much you loved him. You wanted him to know that he’d changed you in the most unpredictable and drastic ways and it unhinged every bone in your body. You were scared because you once believed he would never satisfy you since he wasn’t your soulmate, but now you were scared that even a lifetime of efforts could never repay what he had given you. That all this time, you weren’t enough for him.

Jimin felt his urges get the best of him. Staring into your eyes absolved any resentment he held for you. He felt injected with life whenever he looked at you, even when you were staring daggers at him like you had been now. He didn’t know how long he could resist from kissing you, being that he was drunk and reckless.

You both stood there, silently. Jimin was waiting for you to shoot a drunken, unintelligible comment back and you were waiting for Jimin to rebuke you for lashing out at him. Neither of those things happened. You just remained speechless, as did he.

Eventually, you took a few steps away, breaking the longing stare that had transpired between you and Jimin for what felt like an hour.

“I’m going to bed.” That was the last thing you said before slumping out of the kitchen and entering into your bedroom. You were right in assuming Jimin would stay over since he was too drunk and emotional to drive himself home.

Jimin collapsed onto the couch and finally let himself cry. He hated the fact that things didn’t go back to how they were, and that they most likely never would. You were like water to him. He could experience you and feel you but whenever he tried to hold you in his hands no matter how tightly, you would slip through his fingers. He just wished he could have shared another one of those nothing-everything moments with you he’d foolishly taken for granted. When he closed his eyes, memories of you and him played in his mind until he dozed off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to a pressure headache that resided in the back of your head. This however was nothing compared to the feeling you got when you checked your phone and saw Jimin had sent you a text.

Jimin: I think I need some space

Jimin: I’m sorry

Before the tears had the chance to well, you stood up and trudged out to the living room to only find that Jimin had already left and Wheein was sitting on the couch flipping through the stations on the television.

“Look at this.” You tossed your phone on the cushion next to Wheein and walked over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Wheein picked up your phone and read the texts, sighing with disappointment. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ___.”

“We kind of had a fight last night.” You muttered, the memories of everything that had happened flooding back into your head. You said so many things you wish you hadn’t and regretted how rude you had allowed yourself to act.

“Yeah, I know. I heard.” Her lips were pressed together as she walked over to you.

“I really know how to fuck things up, don’t I?” You scoffed in mockery of your misbehavior.

Two weeks passed since you and Jimin had fought.

That petty argument stained your mind. That moment was everything. And for once, you wanted it to mean nothing.

Every time your phone alerted you, you reached for it eagerly and immediately in the slim chance that it was Jimin who was texting you. It never was, though, and you only had yourself to blame.

It had been two weeks of self-reprimand and regret.

Fourteen days of missing him and pitifully scrolling through photos and videos that you took of him.

Three hundred and thirty-six hours since saw his smile or scolded him for skipping practice to hang out with you or received a casual compliment from him that never failed to boost your mood when you were upset.

Or heard his laugh.

Coincidentally, tonight was his dance recital he’d been practicing for. You’d been waffling between going and not going for the entirety of those two weeks. Wheein would always reassure you that you should go and that he would appreciate you cared enough to support him.

“You know I can’t make it, its my mom’s birthday weekend. If not for you, go for me.” She pleaded.

It took a few more minutes of Wheein’s persuasion for you to finally decide on going. And you told yourself it was exclusively for Wheein. You told yourself that, but she knew, and you knew you just missed his so much.

You arrived early so you could snag a decent seat. To your dismay, it was already crowded which made you remember Jimin always downplayed his dancing events due to his humbleness. You found a seat slightly askew to the center of the stage, but close enough to get an adequate view. The lights dimmed and you set down your purse and the bouquet of red roses on the floor in front of your legs.

There were a few performers that preceded Jimin, all were talented and passionate but nothing like the way Jimin danced. Maybe it was because you were in love with him, but there was something exceptionally unmatched about his dancing abilities.

He finally walked out on stage and his eyes met with yours almost immediately. Jimin paused and contained his excitement to the best of his abilities. You weren’t fooled though; you could see it in his eyes that he was relieved you attended and you nodded at him to express physically that you wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Jimin looked down as the music started playing, then began his performance. The way his arms flowed so precisely with the rhythm and the elegance he exuded as he leaped across the stage had the audience collectively in awe of his raw talent. His legs moved so delicately that anyone could tell he was the type of dancer that practiced until he couldn’t stand up anymore.

Your breathing was rather heavily but you ignored everything else when Jimin would dance. The intense beating of your heart, the audience, the walls and even the stage had faded away; he was the only thing detectable in your eyes in this moment.

Your presence granted him the motivation to exert every ounce of effort into every single movement. You pitied the unlucky person who had to follow him. Their dance would surely be put to shame by this beautiful, raw, flawless, emotional masterpiece.

When the dance ended, your body crashed back to reality and you realized every muscle in your body had been contracted. You loosened yourself by leaning back into your chair.

He received a standing ovation which didn’t come to a surprise. You stood up, still. Jimin’s eyes were glued to you. You gave him a teary smile and he held his hand to his heart and bowed. The audience had no idea that was for you and only you.

Jimin prayed that you saw it. The longing, the pure dedication, the heartbreak, and the change. You changed him. He wanted you to know that he always thought he’d fall in love countless times, but from the moment he met you that desire had faded. Now, he knew he’d only ever want to love you. 

The remainder of the recital had been a blur. Nothing could prevail in capturing your attention from Jimin. His movements simply replayed in your head until the showcase ended. You stood up and applauded, growing restless to run backstage to congratulate him.

Before you got the chance to greet him, an entire crowd of people swarmed any path that lead to where the dancers were. You grunted and settled on texting him.

y/n: meet me outside on the bridge across the street

Jimin: I’ll be there in about 10 minutes

You thought your heart couldn’t have raced any faster than it did while you were watching Jimin dance, but your body had proved you wrong. You paced up and down the bridge all the while mumbling what you planned on saying to Jimin. You bit your fingernails and leaned against the wooden railing that scaled along the bridge.

“Hey.” Jimin walked up next to you, looking out to the streaming water below the bridge. It was quiet, warm, and serene. The lantern that stood on the end of the bridge radiating a warm tone that accentuated Jimin’s honey skin.

“You did amazing. Just,” You paused, there were no words to do his performance justice, “if I went blind tomorrow, I’d be satisfied.”

Jimin chuckled at your comment, knowing you meant well.

He laughed for you. That beautiful sound echoed in your heart loudly. You missed it so much.

“These are for you.” You handed him the flowers, turning your body towards him. He grinned and cradled them in his arm.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“I heard from Seokjin that you’re planning on making things official with the girl. What’s her name?” You said abruptly. Jimin visibly tensed when you said this.

“Nancy.” He replied.

“Nancy.” You repeated.

There was a long silence, and Jimin opened his mouth about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Don’t be her boyfriend.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because,” You looked back out into the water before continuing, “I know you could never fully dedicate yourself to her like you would to me.” A scoff escaped you when you said it out loud, “I don’t care if that sounds arrogant because I know it’s true. I know because that’s how I’d feel about everyone else too.” You paused, “Even my soulmate.”

“___, do you- that- where is this coming from?” His eyes planted firmly on yours.

“I love you, Jimin.” You blurted it out. The hundred of ways you imagined yourself confessing this to him ultimately resulted in you ineloquently spouting it out. There was no denying your vigor could never diminish when it came to love, it simply was redirected.

“You love me.” He repeated in a stunned state. He just tenderly stared at you, hope and bewilderment bursting through him; he was trying to take it all in.

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the minute I met you and every minute of every day that I’ve known you. And I could never stop myself from loving you, and I was stupid to think that was possible. I’d always been so determined to find my soulmate. I pictured exactly what to say and how we would fall in love, but with you,” You laughed lightly, holding a hand to your heart. Hearing you say these things to him was everything he’d ever wished for, for the months you’d known each other. Needless to say he was fighting back tears.

“I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. You’ve ruined love for me because I know nothing will ever be as good as the way I love you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” These words struck you, hard. You didn’t know how to convince him, but dammit, you’d never give up trying.

“I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t let go of the way you laugh, you know I always go out of my way to make you laugh? because hearing it makes me so damn happy and I have no idea why. Or how when we look at each other and I can tell exactly what you’re thinking, and you can tell exactly what I’m thinking. Or how you always let me order my food first and pour water into my cup before you pour water into yours. Or the way you tease me for opening the banana on the ‘wrong side’. Or how your dancing is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And every moment you’re not dancing or laughing or teasing me I wish you were by my side doing all of those things.”

“I could never be him. I could never be that for you, you know this right?” He responded in short answers, unable to find the right words that would be a good enough just like when he was seven years old. But, Jimin was older now and held a firm belief nothing could ever express how strongly he feels.

“Good. I don’t want you to be him or anyone else other than you.”

“But what about-”

“No. There’s nothing else to consider. The point is I could never forgive myself if I gave you up for some theoretical opportunity of a soulmate. I found someone even better. I found you. I don’t care what the stars say, I don’t care that your ring is green and mine is green and that we’re technically not soulmates. I don’t care if I never meet my soulmate. What we have is real. Our connection was built by us. You’re real. And I love you so much that’s all I can say.” You stared intently at him becoming exhausted, yet alleviated from finally being able to tell him all this. “This ring had meant everything for me for all my life. When it was green it meant I had a soulmate, when it was black it meant I had no reason to believe in love. But with you, this ring means absolutely nothing. It’s green again and it has never felt so meaningless to me. Does that even make sense?”

“I love you.” He said after about five minutes of silence. He didn’t give you a second to respond because the next think you knew, he stepped towards you and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

It’s true what they say about seeing fireworks when you kiss someone you love. These fireworks covered every inch of the sky and flared brightly, blindingly so, and flew so high in the air that you swore they reached outer space.

Your arms slid around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. His cheeks softly brushed against yours and felt so warm. The softness of his lips could make you cry. Finally being able to kiss him and hold him and admit your love to him did make you cry. His hands caressed your face making you flush red, and his thumb glided against your cheeks to wipe away the hot tears he felt trickling from your eyes.

He pulled back but couldn’t pull too far because he felt some gravitational force drawing him to be near you. Your noses bumped against each other, “The minute you met me, huh?” You laughed, placing another chaste kiss on the side of his smile.

“I warned you I was a hopeless romantic.” You sniffed still recovering from that tearful, enchanting kiss.

He laced his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers, and strode slowly along the park path. You and he talked like you’d always had but now you loved him, and he knew that.

“Favorite cartoon as a kid?”

“Easy, Blue’s Clues.” Jimin said.

“Really? You think Blue’s Clues was the best when Sesame Street exists?”

“Big bird scared me! You just know he’s killed someone. you can see it in his cold, dead eyes.” Jimin argued.

“Oh yeah? Well, at least none of the characters had conversations with their furniture. Steve was one hundred percent insane.” You said, laughing.

“Steve is a legend, don’t say such things about him.” Jimin joined in your laughter, referring to the main character of Blue’s Clues. 

“Go to pick up line?” He asked.

You thought for a moment, “Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Wow, that was absolutely terrible I think we have to break up.” Jimin chuckled.

“Oh yeah, like you could do better.” You challenged.

“If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?” He said with eyes so dreamy you almost ignored the fact that this pick up like was just as horrendous as yours.

“How was that better than mine?”

“Trust me, it was.”

“I will. I will be your nothing.” He looked to you and kissed your cheek. You closed your eyes at the sensation of his touch.

“And I’ll be yours?” Jimin whispered against your cheek as if he were asking permission to be the one you choose. You nodded. Of course, he was.

You and him and this moment were nothing. Nothing to the passing strangers, nothing to the waiter that took your order on your first date, nothing to the generations to come, nothing to the universe and trees and grass and stars that surrounded you. Nothing at all.

And yet, to you and Jimin, it was everything. This nothing and everything moment marked the beginning of a lifetime of nothing and everything moments.

Somewhere along these nothing and everything moments, green became just another color to you and your ring was just another piece of jewelry. And nothing more.

Exactly 10 months after that night, you and Jimin planned to return to that bridge. You stood against the railing and looked over to Jimin.

“Uh, move over like two inches to the left.” You giggled, finding that your need for accuracy rubbed off on him.

“Are you sure that’s where I was standing? I could swear it was right here!” You argued, simply to get a rise out of him; you thought it was adorable.

“No, you were definitely standing two inches to the left.” He held his phone and aimed it at you. “Move it!” He ordered with a smile on his face.

“Yes sir!” You stepped to the side then looked at him for approval. He held his thumb up and took a few pictures while you posed.

Afterwards, he walked up to you and placed a kiss on your cheek before showing you the photos. Most of them were blurry and you teased him for his shoddy camera skills. “Wheein’s gonna hate these pictures.” You commented. He laughed and threw his arm across your shoulder as the two of you stared out into the water flowing peacefully downstream. Being here with him brought the memory of that night as if it had happened just yesterday.

“A friend once said to me: ‘it’s crazy that out of all the years and decades and countries we could have been born, we were born in this one, together’.” Jimin’s eyes were fixated on the water in reminiscence of the first time he’d met you, “I thought of what my friend said often when we were together. And it’s as if we were meant to find each other. The universe seems coincidental when it comes to picking soulmates, doesn’t it? At least we got to choose. And I think it purposefully granted us that choice knowing exactly what it would bring us. As if we were meant to bring every bit of love, warmth, and even heartbreak into each other’s lives. It’s kind of like a lottery when you think about it. To me, it feels like fate plucked us out like numbers on a ticket and placed us together.” Jimin looked over to you now, and when you stared into his eyes every one of your questions about love had been answered.

“Numbers are infinite.” You said softly.

“Yeah, and yet, we were picked. I understand now I won the lottery.” He replied and wished time would stop so he could cherish this nothing moment forever.

“There isn’t a doubt in my mind about doing this.” You said with sentiment. “Ready?”

“Ready.” He responded, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The two of you slipped the soulmate rings off your fingers and you gazed at it one last time.

“Count of three?”

Jimin nodded.

You started the countdown, “One.”

Jimin continued it, “Two.”

Three came in unison and you both threw your rings into the water which was now rushing rapidly.

When you felt the ring slip from your hand and watched as it dropped into the water, you wept. You wept out of pure relief and liberation; an enormous pressure had lifted from your chest and you were finally able to breathe. That ring could never cause you any more pain, nor did that ring replenish your hope you would find love. You didn’t need it anymore.

Because now, you had an endless supply of nothing moments.

and everything moments

and Jimin.

[elisaphoenix13]

To Lose Everything...(Ch.2)

After the teen's impromptu nap after lunch the day before, Stephen had found a spare bedroom for Peter and cleaned it up so the boy could comfortably make himself at home. Not that Peter had much to begin with. Whatever he owned was sitting in an apartment in Queens that he couldn't go back to because it was the first place child services would look. Stephen would have to do something about them soon. Peter couldn't run from them forever and the doctor wouldn't let the teen miss out on school once it started up again. Which from a bit of searching online, he discovered was only a few days away.

Even though Peter wasn't speaking, he at least ate whatever Stephen put in front of him. At the moment, he was shoveling down some pancakes the sorcerer had made, Stephen eating his own at a more sedate pace while reading a book. He figured bringing up the current situation would scare Peter away and he really didn't want to find the kid half frozen again. But springing a surprise meeting with social services on the teen would backfire. Stephen would just need to ease him into the idea.

"Peter." Stephen starts softly and waits until he has the boy's attention. "I'm taking a guess but...I'm assuming that something has happened to your aunt and now you have a social worker looking for you." Peter freezes up as he reaches for his glass of orange juice. "Am I right?"

Stephen jumps when the glass in Peter's hand shatters in his grasp, sending orange juice and shards of glass across the table. The teen whimpers both at the reminder of his newly gone guardian and the fact that his hand was shredded from the pieces embedded in his palm with the orange juice adding to the burn. The teen stares at his hand as blood trickles off of it and onto the table and Stephen swears quietly as he rushes to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. When he returns to the kitchen, he finds Peter in the exact position he had left him in and sighs as he focuses his magic into his own hands so he can tend to the teen with a steady hand.

Peter watches numbly as Stephen pulls his previously vacated chair closer to the boy and gently takes his hand to start pulling shards of glass out of it.

"Is that a yes?" Stephen asks and receives a single sharp nod. "I understand why you don't want to go into the system. I imagine you have needs that can't be met with a regular family. Such as the amount of food you put away. Fast metabolism?" Another nod. "I'm also guessing that you have trouble thermoregulating. Have you had trouble staying warm in the winter?"

Peter nods again and winces when Stephen applies some antiseptic before wrapping the teen's hand in a bandage. It thankfully didn't look to need stitches. Yes and no questions were working, and thankfully Peter was willing to answer those.

"Will this heal by tonight? I recall you saying something about a healing factor a while back." The teen nods. "Ok. Good. Now look at me." Peter does. "Do you want to stay here?"

To the doctor's surprise, the teen looked conflicted. As if he wanted to stay but something was keeping him from nodding. Then he remembered, Peter was respectful. Stubborn. The type that wouldn't want to intrude on people's lives. He had lived on the streets instead of asking for help (although Peter probably didn't know who he could go to), and was being considerate of future families that might not be able to keep up with his metabolism. Feeding him wouldn't be cheap.

"If I didn't think I could help you, I wouldn't have offered." Stephen finally says after a few more seconds of silence, and Peter finally nods. "Alright. I'll find the social worker and set up a meeting. We'll get that straightened out and then figure things out from there."

Stephen cleans up the mess on the table, and returns the first aid kit to its proper place after getting Peter another glass of juice. The teen had drained it and then tried to do the dishes, but the sorcerer had stopped him and told him that although he was grateful, Peter needed to keep his hand dry. Stephen then gave him permission to explore the Sanctum as long as he was careful, or that he could go into Stephen's room and watch tv. Assuming things went well, things could be brought from Peter's apartment and he wouldn't have to get things to keep the teen entertained. Sure, Stephen would have to buy him new things over time, but at least magic was helpful in keeping the kitchen stocked.

As he finished with the dishes, Stephen had nearly froze in his spot when he realized the one person Peter might have gone to...if he were alive. Tony. The doctor had been so distracted with Peter that for a moment, he forgot about his guilt. His self-loathing. Now it was coming back twofold. Because of him, Peter felt he had no one to go to. He resorted to running and almost died for it.

Stephen was almost responsible for another death.

"Stop that." Wong's voice interrupts his thoughts and Stephen looks up from his trembling hands at the fellow sorcerer. "The only one who blames you is yourself. If that kid blamed you, he would have left." He takes the remaining pancakes and sits at the table with them. "Normally I would tell you that a kid doesn't belong here, but he's different. He's keeping you distracted from your thoughts. Quiet too."

Stephen smirks. "He won't stay mute forever Wong."

"Still a distraction." The other says before shoving a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. "Also means you cook more."

Stephen scoffs and pulls his phone out of his pocket to set up a meeting with Peter's social worker, which of course took ages because he didn't know their personal number. He had to go through the main number and mention Peter before he was directed to the right agent, and was surprised when the woman on the other end of the call said she could meet with him immediately. Okay. A little faster than he thought, but it was best to get this over with so the teen could relax and heal.

When they agree on a time at her office (which was as soon as possible), Stephen hangs up and returns his phone to his pocket as he steps back out to the foyer. "Peter?" He calls out, knowing the teen could hear him. He was aware of the enhanced hearing. Stephen waits a few moments until the teen finally appears at the top of the stairs. "Come on. We're seeing your social worker a lot sooner than I thought."

Peter squirms for a few moments but nods as he descends the stairs with the cloak following him. The teen must have opted to explore and the cloak took it upon itself to keep an eye on Peter. At least if anything happened, it would be able to tell Stephen.

The Sorcerer Supreme opens a portal near the social worker's office building, out of prying eyes of course, and they walk the rest of the way as quickly as possible so Peter doesn't freeze again. He was lacking a proper coat and only had a hoodie to speak of and that didn't do much in below zero weather. Once they were inside, Peter moved even closer to Stephen and stayed behind him the entire way to the office. When the reached the correct door though, the teen had reached out and grabbed the doctor's sleeve in apprehension.

He was terrified.

Stephen said nothing though as he rapped his knuckles on the door and then opens the door when prompted. The woman sitting on the other side of the desk moves to her feet and immediately thrusts her hand out for Stephen to shake. Peter just moved farther behind the man.

"Doctor Strange, yes? Kate Grey. Sit, please." Kate motions to the chairs but Stephen remains standing.

"I would rather get to the point and be out of here as soon as possible."

"Yes, I understand. Thank you for finding Peter and returning him--" The teen freezes behind Stephen at the false insinuation and the sorcerer cuts off Kate before she can do anymore damage.

"I am not returning him, I just want to know what needs to happen so he can stay with me. He has special needs that families won't be able to keep up with. Especially when most people are still recovering from the decimation." 

Kate gives him a disbelieving look. "There's nothing in his records about special needs."

Stephen turns to the teen behind him. "Show her." Peter's eyes widen and the doctor lowers his voice so only the teen can hear. "I will take care of those memories once things are settled, I promise."

After some hesitancy, Peter kicks off his shoes after Stephen uses his magic to close the blinds, and walks over to a bare wall. The show of magic was enough to have Kate reeling, but she then covers her mouth when the teen scales the wall and up to the ceiling where he stops directly over Stephen.

"Peter is Spiderman. He has a fast metabolism so he eats a lot more than your average teenager. Super strength that he has control of but it's possible he can slip up. And most of all, he cannot thermoregulate. Which means if he gets thrown with a family and their heater breaks in the middle of winter, he can freeze to death." Stephen didn't bother mentioning that was how he found the teen. 

"What happened to his hand?" The agent asks.

"An accident regarding his strength. I've already taken care of it." Stephen replies gently as Peter hangs down from the ceiling by his fingertips before landing behind the sorcerer again and putting his shoes back on. "Now...what do I need to do to make sure he stays with me?" He asks again and Kate glances around him to look at Peter.

"Peter...I just need to make sure. Do you want to stay with Dr. Strange?" When the teen nods immediately, she pulls out some paperwork and slides it across the desk before holding a pen out to Stephen. "Normally you would have to apply for temporary guardianship but considering the circumstances, we can skip to adoption..."

Kate continues to ramble as Stephen's train of thought skids to a halt. Adoption? What about just permanent guardianship? Not that he really minded but that wasn't his decision to make. Well it was, but Peter was old enough to decide if that was what he wanted. Stephen looks behind him at Peter who had also frozen at the mention of adoption and the two stare at each other. The teen had given him a look of uncertainty and it took the doctor a few moments to realize that he was uncertain if Stephen wanted to do that. So he just nods at the boy, and then turns back to the paperwork when he gets a nod in return.

Kate had caught the silent exchange. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes. Fine." Stephen once more focuses his magic into one of his hands to steady it's and signs what seemed to be hundreds of papers.

"That's it. I would like to stop by your home once he's settled just to check in, but then I'll leave you alone." Kate says with a soft smile.

"I understand." Stephen says as he returns the pen. "Are we free to go?"

The social worker nods and Stephen shakes her head again before leading Peter out of the office and the building itself by his shoulder. They move out of sight again to take a portal back to the Sanctum, and as soon as it closes behind them, Stephen moves toward the stairs. He had to some studying to do before he worried about lunch.

"Doctor Strange." Peter's whisper had actually startled Stephen into stopping and whipping around to face the boy. "I..."

Stephen waits as the teen looks down and fumbles with his sleeves, attempting to collect his thoughts, but quickly steps forwards when tears fall to the ground. The shock was finally wearing off. He had a safe place to stay now and he was letting himself feel again. He was finally mourning.

So Stephen did the only thing he could think of that he knew Peter would appreciate. He brought the kid into a hug that was returned instantly as Peter sobbed quietly into his shoulder. He knew the teen was a touchy-feely kind of person. The sorcerer had seen it first hand both on Titan and during the battle with Thanos. Stephen would ignore his own insecurities if it would help the young Avenger.

"...thank you." Peter finally says once the sobs stop and the tears slow to a trickle.

"You're welcome."

[broken-hearted-but-brave]

Knight Au: Virgil’s Recruitment

It’s the first official recruitment of one of the sides and it’s a bit sad, but I promise there won’t be to much. I can’t handle angst very well anyways. Let me know if anyone's interested in more. Even for one person I would continue, but if there isn’t anyone then I guess I will just stop here. (Maybe)

Warnings: Non-descriptive violence, drug mentions, ill, and mild language. (If I missed anything let me know)

Virgil found himself living in the worst location of the Sanders kingdom. He lived as close to the middle of Veil as one would be able to without relying on a large scale gang to back you up. Only the rich and powerful underworlders could call the center of Plague home. Those beings, more likely then not, being a form of demon.

He’d lived there since he was born and has long ago given up on getting out. The city was essentially a maze, and while that might help in hiding, it also covers the monsters in the city. For those outside of Veil they called it Plague. Both names made a sick sort of sense to everyone.  Entering the city was like hiding behind a veil. No news traveled to or from the city and you were luck to be seen again with out any permanent physical damage. The mental damage was certain. The walls were the veil to keep those outside safe from the horrors that plagued anyone or thing that lived within the city. If you can call what happens there living, and those who came out with the mental scars were considered plagued as the things they did would drive them back to that city.

Virgil truly did hate his home. Every bone in his body told him that this was where he would die and he believed it. Unfortunately for him, his sharpened senses kept him alive and for the most part safe. It’s not that he wished to die, no, death here was not a good thing. You can’t rest here when your dead. The only reason he hated his senses was for the fact that he had to cover his body as much as possible, so that he wouldn’t have a meltdown do to over stimulation. None of those helping with the anxiety he developed due to the masters of his youth. Honestly his hatred ran so deep that........

“S... Si... SIR!”

“Quiet. We can’t have anyone hearing us right now.”

“But...”

“No, be silent. If you really want to see your mother again and do so alive, you will remain silent. Understood?”

The child nodded, holding back her sobs with the rags she wore. Honestly, he should have know better then to help this girl. He will get nothing from it, but at least he wouldn’t be at fault for the small child’s death.

They continued to take turns and twist that appeared to back track through almost claustrophobic passage ways. The passages made even smaller by the filth that covered the entire city's inner levels. Between not getting lost and the filth that could very well be hiding bodies, Virgil’s attention was completely taken due to the addition of the girl as well. So, when a rat ran over his foot and climbed the walls in an unholy manner to reach a window that had long since lost its glass. It took everything in him not to bolt. 

An enemy right in front of him was easy but place him here close to hyperventilating and stressed over the area they were heading to did not help to keep his fear of rats hidden. If it weren’t for the child he would have been long gone and resting in his hideaway for when he needed to hunt down his next meal.

They soon came to the edge of an open space, with a broken fountain in the center. If it weren’t for the obvious man made parts of the area it could have been easily mistaken for a cavern. 

Searching the perimeter, Virgil noticed many things that others would miss. Doors hidden almost to the point where they looked like part of the wall, dotted the area. Pathways like their own, appeared closed off, except for two or there far across the area. Most importantly the area was clean.

No filth that looked like it could be alive. No rubble or shattered glass scatter about other then the parts from the fountain. Something was wrong and Virgil was so close to leaving, but the child.

“Hide in one of the piles. Somethings not right here.”

The girl nodded and crawled through one of the piles. As she did so she chocked on the stench that came from deep in the pile. The cloth masked did nothing for her against the stench and so she pocketed it as she turned to look out at what Virgil would do.

Knowing that this was a trap for him, he scoured the area looking for the best point and exits for him to go and defend from. The fountain was most likely his best bet and so he crept over, keeping low as to not trigger the ambush just yet.

Upon reaching the fountain he stood slowly, keeping an eye out for any arrows, darts, and other projectiles. Having none come his way he steeled his nerves and called out.

“Jade, come out I have your daughter. I don’t need any trouble.”

Nothing responded back, not even his echo that should have been there, nor the enemies that should have come out as well. It was far to silent. Even at the quietest times a scream and rats could be heard. So, where were they. Then he heard it, or more like them.

The muffled breathing and a laugh.

They were waiting for a signal, but from who? It should only be him, the girl, and whoever refused to come out and attack.

“What are you guys waiting for?  An open invitations? If so, know that I have none.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

“He said after this I owe him nothing! If I gave you to him then he would let me and mother go! I’m sick of waiting for him to sell me! I’m sorry”

 The child broke down and fled the scene. That’s fine, honestly, Virgil would have done the same if he was in her position. Owning a debt to someone, even your own parent is the same as a death sentence here. 

“How pathetic. That daughter of mine truly is studied. As soon as I finish up with you, I will be selling her and that cow to the demons. Honestly, does she really think that bring you here would be enough to payback me giving her life?”

A short stature, large build man exited from one of the doors hidden from the wall. He effectively earned a glare from Virgil.

“You bastard. I should have know it was one of your children, Darrian, when I smelt the Artmum on her.”

“Oh enough. Honestly killing you will bring me quite a lot a reputation. My group will be able to take down gangs thanks to that alone. Though I must say you appear much slower the normal.”

“Have you seen yourself? You give my name far to much credit. It would take you killing thousands to gain any reputation other then the horrifically, ugly, disgust...”

“How DArE YoU! Boys get out here and kill him already.”

“Can’t even take a little teasing fatty?”

With that about fifteen boy entered from the doors and passages. There ages a wide range but none over eighteen. That be part of the sad truth of Veil. I were luck to make it to twelve here. More likely then not you were dead due to either a debt you owed or paying of someone else’s by ten.

The boys charge at Virgil, and he began his defense. Using rocks around him he kicked them towards the boys slowing some down and tripping a few more. While they got up, he headed towards Darrian. Swipes came in left and right. Most boys used heave pipes and boards, but the few older held swords. Still none of them land a single blow to Virgil. On the other hand Virgil had landed several and knocked out as many as he could on his way to Darrian.

It was obvious that the boys owed Darrian. Most likely all of them being his son. So with his death the would all most likely run away. Free from there debts. So Virgil did what he could not to harm them severally. They were children after all and not loyal to anyone. Even blood meant nothing here other then a debt to be paid.

Five feet from Darrian, the boys managed to circle Virgil. The continued to swipe and miss him as he tried to find an opening. After several moments and angry yelling by Darrian to hurry and finish him, an opening showed its self. The Boy directly in front of Darrian moved his hip ever so slightly as to reach Virgil at a better angle, and Virgil leapt for that moment. 

He threw his dagger at Darrian, hitting him in his jugular. Quickly Virgil yanked back. A steel thread pulling his dagger to him and ripping the man’s throat with it’s barbed edges. He quickly hit the ground and died quickly.

As expected, the boys had been waiting to hear Darrian fall, instantly taking off when he did. Virgil, however, did not go unscathed. In his left shoulder the boy had managed to embed his short sword during Virgil's throwing.

Knowing that staying here would mean his death drove Virgil to stay up. The wound coupled with the illness that he had caused his legs to tremble. Why on earth did he agree to help the girl Artmum in her veins? This would be his end. He knew the likelihood of him getting to a one of the building here would be near impossible, let alone all the way back to his base.

His knees gave out and as he attempted to crawl to one of the doorways rushed footsteps could be heard. No not now! Why come back and finish? He was so close but the loss of blood and the lack of his dominate arm caused him to give in. This was his end and he knew it. Whoever’s footsteps those were, showed that they were close and closing in quickly, undoubtedly having spotted him. All he hoped for now was that it wasn’t one of the demons from the inner city.

“Your... But your Highness... No, never!.. But... Understood.”

“Hey... Kid...!”

Virgil’s strength had left him and his Vision was beginning to as well. However, he saw one last thing that confused him as he slipped under. The royal colors flashed in his sight, and he was out.

Virgil woke to his entire body throbbing in pain. Most of which was originating from his shoulder, but it did not drown out the pain that came from his head and stomach as well. He lurched forward at the pains in his stomach and hands quickly reached for him. 

Normally he would have fought off any contact but the pain was to much. The arms around him guided him to a bucket where he dry heaved into. Having had no food and little water made for having nothing to give to the vomiting and instead ruined his throat.

After collecting himself, he turned to the owner of the hands and arms that had guided him. To his left sat a small, middle aged healer. Round glasses taking up most of his face and had it not been for the heavy concern that showed on his face, it would have obviously been a large, bright smile if his laugh lines where anything to go by.

“I’d ask if you were alright, but it’s quite obvious your not. My name is Emile. I managed to patch you up, though I am sure you still feel pain from your wound. as for the stomach and head pain, that is an unfortunate side effect of rushed healing. I...” “Where am I? Why did you help me? There shouldn’t be any healers in Veil. Not any free ones.”

“Well your right in the fact that your not in Veil anymore. Your actually in the royal palace Valor. As for why I helped you... Well, why did you help that child? I’m sure you knew she was lying.”

“Wait the girl! Is she alright?”

Panic began to set in. The girl had to have gotten away. What did the person mean by Valor. He couldn’t leave Veil. He was supposed to be dead there and now he’s in Valor? Does that mean he owes the King a debt? Someone else? As his thoughts spiraled his hands reached for he’s hair and began to pull. Hard.

“Shh calm. It’s ok. Your safe, she’s safe. You don’t owe anyone anything, we merely wanted to help you. Now breath with me. In for four. Good. Hold for seven. That’s it. And out for eight. Great, lets do it again.”

After going through the breathing for several minutes, Virgil was finally calm enough to listen to Emile’s explanation.

“His Highness, me and a few guards went to check out what was going on in Veil. It had been some time since a kings visit there and we had wanted to see where it had gotten to. Really it was the Thomas’s idea. We knew it would be bad to just go in there so we kept the party to a minimum...

“Thomas are you really sure about this, I mean...”

The spy originally sent to check out Veil had come back claiming that one of the mobs in Veil had gained a forbidden spell book that once belonged to the royal family and needed help getting it back.

“For the hundredth time Valarie, yes I am sure. I need to make sure we get this book back and I have more reasons then that to go to Veil.”

“But Thomas, it’s not safe. People come back like they have the plague and quickly return there.”

“Look we are basically there already. Besides why do you think I brought you, Emile, Joan, and Tayln along? We’ll be fine. Now quiet we can’t have anyone noticing us.”

Huffing, Valarie stopped her complaining and fell back in line with the other guards.  It really wasn’t normal for the King to go on a book retrieval mission. Especially somewhere so dangerous with so few personal guards. 

“You know she’s right, Thomas. We should do this quickly so that we don’t attract to much attention.”

“Yes, Emile, now Alex said that the book was located deeper in the city then we are now. With the map they gave us it should only take about three hours to reach the location. So lets get going.”

Thomas cheered and lead his rude...

“Hey!” 

Upset, guard, through the winding streets. Not much occurred between entering Veil and getting to the location marked, but Emile did get a fright from some giant rat fighting for some sort of shiny item.

“It wasn’t even food! Why do rats care for a shiny piece of metal?! Do they plan to use it like a life or something?!”

“Calm down and continue please.”

“Right, right! Anyway...

“Thomas stay out here with Emile please. Joan too.”

Thomas huffed wanting to help with the retrieval, but understood that it was better for the royal to remain at a safer location. Though the safety of this area was really questionable. They where fairly close to the center of the City after all. the rest of the guard followed Valarie and Tayln in to the building to recover the stole items kept there and face down any enemies.

Then they heard a child crying out from an alley way. They all rushed over to the sound and found a small child sobbing her eyes out in a large pile of trash. 

“What’s wrong?” “I... I b-betrayed the only per-person to ever offer me help!”

 The child broke down even more the events that she had been through obviously to painful for her to explain more. Thomas wanted to help her immediately but Joan pulled the two a side.

“We can’t help that child Thomas. We don’t know if this is a trap or not!”

“What do you mean that ones just a child! No older the eight at the most!”

“Emile even the children here will gut you the first chance they get. We. Can’t. Help. Them.”

“We have to at least check it out!”

“N...”

“Where going to help her.” Thomas said interrupting the dispute his friends were beginning to have. Marching past the to Thomas knelt next to the child. 

“Now...”

“Rose, She/her.”

The girl sniffed. Having heard them discussing what to do, she was hopeful for some one to save the person she had mentioned.

“Now, Rose. What do you mean you betrayed someone who tried to help you?”

She grabbed Thomas holding tight, almost like she was afraid that if she let go that person was as good as dead.

“He... he said he’d help me get back to my mother when I had lied to him saying I was lost. I then lied and said that she always waited by a fountain in the middle ring of the city. Really that man was there with an ambush in order to kill him. H.. he said if I brought  Anxiety to him weakened then he would let me and mother go.”

Then she broke down again repeating over and over that they had to help Anxiety. That she had poisoned him, and he would need help quickly in order to live.

“Alright, if you lead the way we can help.”

“Thomas!”

“Not now Joan. Someone is dying and needs our help. Alright Rose, lets go.”

As soon as he gave the go ahead the child ran. She ran so quickly back to where she had left the man she called Anxiety. All the while she repeated

“Thank you! Thank you! He has to live! He’s going to live!”

When they reached the end of an extremely long and thin passage way the child held them up. From the passage they saw a kid crawling toward one of the doors with a sword embedded in his left shoulder. A ways across lay a few unconscious boys and a dead older man.

“That’s him! That’s Anxiety! He’s still alive!”

Thomas went to run to the kid crawling, but was stopped by Joan.

“Your Highness you can’t just go in there!”

Thomas whirled around somewhat angry with his friend.

“I know your worried, but that kid needs help. If this was a trap I doubt he would be the one still alive!”

“But your Highness...”

“You would have me leave a kid to die? You would stop me from helping someone who obviously needs it?!”

“No never! But he could be...”

“ Joan I know your only trying to protect me, but right now your in the way, now get out of the way!”

“Understood.”

With that he rushed over to the kid on the ground. Noticing that he was no longer trying to crawl and looked to be right at death’s door.

“Hey, wait! You need to hold on kid! We’ll help you so stay awake!”

Thomas threw himself down to pick the kid up. Just as he got both himself and the kid up, Anxiety was out.

“Emile, grab Rose and her mother with Joan and met me by the others! As soon as you get back to me, we run and set him up at the camp I’ll need you and the other healers to perform rushed healing spells on him. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir!”

Both Emile and Joan sprung into action in order to do as the King had commanded.

“I don’t know what happen between that time, but his Highness was desperate. We had Rose take us to her mother and then we went and meet up with his Highness and the rest. From there it was a blur of rapid healing spells, blood stabilizing and getting back to Valor.”

Emile wrung his hands. The experience was very shock. To have so much happen on a trip that should have been a quick go in, grab a book, and leave turn into a rush against time to save Virgil’s life. He wasn’t prepared for that mentally.

Virgil reached over cautiously, not used to anyone caring for him or needing to comfort another, and placed his hand on top of Emile’s.

“Thank you. I know if it weren’t for you or the King I would be dead. No one else would have left with that girl to help someone. Not when she out right said she betrayed them. Now I have to ask, how long have I been out and what do I do now?”

Emile looked up a smile place precariously on his face. A poor testament to the smiles he usually showed. While he did not mention it he had seen the scars and other mark that littered Virgil’s body. The clear signs of being half demon and something else. The abuse he no doubt went through. Emile couldn’t begin to understand what living in that place for so long had to be like, and for a child of this boys age.

“Yes well, its been three days since we found you and you recovered fairly quickly. Even with the rapid healing magic, it was still quite fast. As for what you do now? It’s up to you, but I am sure his Highness will want to talk to you a bit, and that may affect what you want to do.”

Nodding, Virgil thought his options through. He could run away, but then that would be rude to the King and he had no clue about anything outside of the Veil. Emile’s story made the King appear kind, but that could just be his point of view. After all some people saw the Kings as God-like beings. However, he seemed to treat the King as more of a friend and equal, rather then a God.

“Alright, if it’s alright I would like to see what the King has to say to me.”

Emile’s smile grew to a near blinding point and went to say something when he was interrupted.

“I’m glad you are willing to hear me out Anxiety.”

Both Emile and Virgil jumped at the sudden new voice. Virgil had to repeat the breathing exercise to keep call, but when he looked up he saw that it was the King. Right there, waiting for him, no time for preparation at all. Virgil wasn’t even properly dressed to meet with a royal. Not that he had any other clothes any way. All of a sudden needing to do his breathing exercise again. Though this time much more rapid and less successful.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry here lean against me!”

Thomas rushed over and pressed Virgil’s head to where his heart was trying to keep a steady rhythm in order to give Virgil some thing to follow. Normally this would have set Virgil’s panic off even worse, but something about Thomas was very calming and helped him rather then causing him more panic.

“I’m... I’m ok now, you can let me go.”

“Mmm, well now I’m fairly comfy so I think I’ll stay like this. Plus your hair after the wash feel really nice. Un-unless this is really uncomfortable for you!”

“No um, its really nice actually.”

So Thomas sat there for a bit just holding Virgil’s head to his chest with one hand and the other brushing threw Virgil’s hair. Virgil himself was really surprised by how much he enjoyed this, that he forgot that Emile was still in the room.

“Sorry to interrupt your Father-son bonding moment, but didn’t you have somethings to talk about?”

Both pulled back quickly, red with embarrassment that they had so quickly gotten comfortable with the positions, that they had forgot who they were and where they were. Though Emile was right, it really did feel like they were a family reunited.

“Right business. It was quite obvious that you have some amazing skill. From the looks of it you took on multiple enemies in a weakened state, with a home field disadvantage, and managed to not hurt a single child while they were attacking you, but also managed to kill the leader. While I don’t know the details, it is obvious that you are quick and skilled. You’re exactly who I have been looking for to join my permanent personal guard. While I would like to offer you that right now, I am still setting it up and can not randomly appoint someone no matter how much I want to. Regulations and all that. So... would you be willing to join my Spies and learn things outside of the Veil? The choice is yours, Anxiety.”

Virgil’s head was spinning. The King just asked Virgil to join his spies and later be one of his permanent personal guardsmen. This guy hardly knew him, and what he did know for sure was that he came from the Veil. A place of horrible people and horrifying stories. He had already healed him and now was offering him a place in the world. How kind of a man was this King? How trusting was he? There was no way he could live this kind man alone. What if he stupidly let an enemy in his ranks o-or worse yet an assassin with the sole intent to kill the King?!

“Yes! Yes! Please, if you mean it I want to help you. You saved me and the child from that awful place and even healed me. All while not know a single thing about me other then my nickname. I would hate myself for leaving such a person behind.”

“Them I am glad to have you on board Anxiety.”

“You guys can call me Virgil.”

Thanks for reading and let me know if you wanted to be @’d.

Previous| Next

[promptlyisuppose]

September

* I have to learn the new shape of sorrow before I can speak on it.

* I’m not going to obsess about my body. I exercise because it helps me feel more sane and stable and grounded. I eat what sounds good when it sounds good, in reasonable amounts and I don’t obsess about it. Even when I was at peak physical shape, I was still around 160 lbs and I had thighs and ass and a pooch tummy. That’s just my body. A year ago I was at least 260. I’m not near that anymore but I’m also not going to weigh myself and obsess. I’m smaller. I’m stronger. That’s good enough for me. But I have to admit, I like the way starvation looks on me. I like the new contours of my grief.

* Once upon a time (a very very long time ago)

Once upon a dream (I don’t dream much anymore)

Swallowed whole by my shadow (like crow, can never leave well enough alone)

My darkness needs your light (please shine so I can find my way home)

* She asked how the recovery from my concussions was going and I told her the truth. Mostly good. Most days I feel like myself again.

Until I try to create. Nothing feels right in my hands anymore. My cooking is okay but not exactly what I want. My camera doesn’t capture what I see. My writing is dull.

If these are the costs of having my brain back do I really have my brain back?

* The hike today was rough. Every step felt like my body was fighting me - until I got to the spot where I fell last time. It was like my ability to successfully pass that freed tension I didn’t know I was carrying.

* She always finds me in the woods. Sometimes she’s small and scared and we hold hands and climb rocks and play Pooh sticks. She doesn’t want to talk. She just wants someone there in case monsters show up. Sometimes she comes in like a summer storm - blazing across the ocean gathering fury, her rage all consuming while I propel myself harder and faster until she breaks in an orgasm of sweaty skin and breathlessness. I can’t stay away from the woods. I can’t stay away from the ocean. I can’t stay away from her. Even as I slough her off like the cobwebs she clings. Always the ghost of silk itching beneath my skin.

She heaves and claws, jagged red lines left across my skin. She leaves me breathless. I never tell her no though. She calls and I go.

* Is that why my body gets itchy for the woods? She’s waiting out there and my legs carry me to her against my will. There are lessons to be learned and memories to be uncovered but sometimes she is blissfully silent. I think that’s why I managed the whole thing today. I tucked my head down and barreled through and in the end I remembered that even when hard things leave me breathe less and aching I can still do them. I can still fucking do them.

* My grandmother died and now they are both gone. It’s not the death part that I’m worried about. When you die, you’re dead. They’re fine. It’s the idea of my parents being orphaned. I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know how to hold that grief.

* Hold this ache close, tight to my chest, the weighted grief of the world in my hands alone

Cosmic karmic mourning The sorrow of entire galaxies It is too much and too heavy I thought I knew the contours of mourning I thought I knew the capacity I had for sorrow I thought I knew so much And yet I’m stretching again to accommodate what I never anticipated How could I have? How could anyone? Until you are forced to choose Bend or break Flex or shatter And learn the new shape of self Physically I am shrinking and I can almost see it But I am holding so much more It escapes sometimes as tears Bent over the steering wheel wailing until my core aches Deep breathe Deep breathe

* I keep handing her broken shards but we’re making a mosaic. Tesserae is beautiful for being broken on purpose. A focus. A point of light. 

* If I make my body hurt, maybe nothing else will be able to. Maybe by the time my body stops hurting the rest of me will have stopped hurting too. Moving my body as an act of worship. Or contrition. Or fear maybe. Or courage. Yes. Courage. Being brave enough to make it my own again.

* My dad said he wants to get tattoos for his brothers and parents. It feels like an ancient form of mourning - permanent marks as proof of life. 

* I read a comment about someone being over fed but under nourished and felt that deeply. Not just with actual food but with everything - taking in too much junk and not enough nourishment (of mind of body of self) But they also made the point that you can’t out exercise or supplement a bad diet. Smaller smaller smaller Katherine. Shrink like Alice.

* I can feel the sin eater stories itching to be written and it’s making me nervous. I’m not sure I’m ready to tell stories like that. Brave women using unusual talents. 

* When Ethel died I painted squares. When Dorothy died I found myself searching out hymns and crying quietly. Only one at a time though. One hymns worth of grief before I bottle it all back in.

* Look for the lights. It’s cliche for a reason. Find a point that looks less dark than the others and aim straight for it. Run towards it until more light appears. Remember the path is what you make of it. Remember you carry your own brilliance.

* But my hands are closed so tightly, fists against a world that seems too brutal for faith. * I feel the grief creeping up on me and I push it away. “Not yet” I whisper. “Please just wait.” I can’t have all these feelings here, not with witnesses. Not like this. It makes me restless and itchy. Angry. Tired. It takes and it takes and I am so ready to push it away but there’s nowhere else for it to go. I punish my body, hoping it will evaporate with the sweat, but it remains just under the skin. Just close enough to irritate.

* I keep circling around this idea of being open handed. I think of the open hands of my cousins, grandmothers, and aunts - handing me wisdom and humor and love - open palms to give and to receive. The open hands of the women literally around the world who worked, open hands to open hands, bringing these five souls from one to another to me. My hands were open and I was given the greatest of gifts but then, once I had them, I clenched my fists tight. I thought that was motherhood. Holding them so tightly to defend against a world that feels too brutal and terrifying. But then I think of my mother’s hands and how she held me, always safe but never tight. Her hands were open for me to fly but they stayed open for me to come home. Or I think of my babies open hands when they were small, how quick they were to accept anything offered to them. Joy filled and trusting. Or I think about my mother’s hands washing dishes - holding what’s important and letting the rest wash away because open hands means you don’t hold everything. My fists have been clenched so tightly because I’m so scared the universe made a mistake. I am not worthy of these gifts. Except - gifts aren’t given because of worthiness. They’re given because of love. I need open hands again. I need to be a safe place for my babies to fly and a safe place for them to land. They need to be open for giving and for receiving, and the things that are not for me can run through my fingers like water. Open palms open heart, safe but not tight.

* The room smells like her death now, Like the start of her dying. Not the moment she was born but the moment at the end, the rush of fluid and sorrow in her eyes.

* Driving through fog so dense it hid mountains Laughing until we ached so that we didn’t have muscles to cry I know how to hold my sorrow I can even hold the grief of others But in 15 years it is so rare to see his grief that I still don’t know how to help him hold it. 

* When I finally sleep, when I let the exhaustion pull me under, I am still clawing my way to the surface. I am restless, tossing and turning and searching for the light. Why does rest feel so dangerous? 

* I don’t cry anymore. I tuck the tears deep beneath my belly button and press forward, punishing my body to silence my soul.

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 15 – Encounter

You would have been expected to kneel on a single leg and bow, given that you are one of us. In other words, don’t stress out any joint in your legs.

Don’t use any addressing term apart from “lord” or “my lord.”

Don’t fret. Simply answering given questions is good enough.

Don’t cover your pendant, for it must stay conspicuous at all times. Don’t lose or damage it either; you must return it upon your leave.

And PLEASE don’t burn or destroy anything in there.

The last sentence, as a matter of fact, was not included in the visitor’s manual Rael improvised, but he was impelled to add it based on his judgment on his company.

“Oh, don’t worry! I’ll definitely make you proud, sir!”

I beg your pardon, but you just scared my soul out of me by saying that.

Rael did not blurt out his fear, however. He felt guilty for offering six “don’t”s instead of a word of support to Yuhyung.

“By the way... Do I have to get in there by myself?”

Yuhyung warily asked, fingering the golden necklace that served as an emblem of a VIP visitor.

“I’m afraid so. I would’ve accompanied you on usual circumstances, but I am needed at my clan. Oh, and please save yourself from asserting that you do not blame me.”

Rael demonstrated his knowledge on his audience, which successfully sealed the human’s lips unzipped in a hurry.

“Just keep in mind what I told you, and you’ll be fine.”

As soon as Rael finished his words, the door opened with an mind-shattering thud.

Yuhyung ended up dropping his bag due to severe shudder, and Rael kindly retrieved it and handed it to its owner. He also kept his gaze on Yuhyung until the door was closed, to show that he has got the human’s back.

His part of the job done, Rael nimbly turned on the soles of his feet, only to stop short upon appearance of someone with no reason to be around at this time of the day.

“Lady Seira?”

“I see you made it back safely, Sir Rael.”

“What brings you here?”

“...I am on my way back. I just visited Lady Rosaria to reply to her invitation.”

Rael was about to play along with an affirmation of her answer, when he noticed something was not quite right with her description.

“What do you mean, visit Lady Rosaria to reply to her invitation?”

Don’t you mean you visited Lady Rosaria upon invitation?

For a second Rael suspected there is a flaw in Seira’s linguistic skills or his own auditory interpretation. He dropped the possibility in less than a second, though. He knew both of them were native speakers in Lukedonian, and it was partially because he realized albeit late that they were not on the same page of the conversation.

“Lady Rosaria sent me a messenger for an invitation. She suggested we should spend some ‘girl time.’ But I just visited her in person to decline. Additionally, I told her as grateful as I am for her considerations, there is no need for her to spare her hospitality for me.”

Seira was not the eager type when it came to socializing. Nevertheless, she was not the type to play blind to chances to socialize, either. At least that was the Seira he knew.

Not to mention he could not guess or see any reason for her to reject Rosaria’s invitation.

Rael was planning to ask Seira if there is anything wrong, when something drew his attention at the corner of his memories.

Right after he was made in charge of Lukedonia’s duties for the QuadraNet project, he briefly caught up to Seira to ask her if there is anything she would like him to deliver to her friends in Korea.

Thank you, but I decline.

Rael was not surprised at the fact that she said no. It was not the first time she said no, often solely because the person she was replying to was named Rael Kertia. He was surprised at the reason she produced, however.

Now it is time for me to treat everything about me as a head of the Loyard clan. Which means it is time for me to completely depart from my life before.

Seira had been a head of her clan for more than a day or two. She happened to be one before her return to Lukedonia, during which she willingly shared her presence with her friends.

But lo and behold, she was altogether turning her backs on her friends. Rael was aware of the fact that her return was permanent. Nonetheless, he was also aware of the fact that her friends, according to Raizel, remembered her. And they missed her.

‘No, she wasn’t turning her backs on them. She was trying to turn her backs on them.’

Back then Rael speculated she was trying to relocate her life outside Lukedonia in the safe of her memories.

To his shock, here she was, shying away from generosity of her own kind.

“If there is nothing more you have to discuss with me, allow me to excuse myself.”

Seira nodded her head and turned away, with Rael enacting a statue while his head was processing what was going on.

‘Seira, what are you thinking?’

Rael’s question echoed in mute, as he stared at her back and reminisced her most recent actions.

He could bet she was not completely unwavered by his offer to reach out to her friends; he recalled how her chest froze for a split second before she exhaled.

And one more thing.

‘Why would she pass by the Lord’s Hall on her way back from the Elenor manor? It would’ve been faster for her to head straight back to her own mansion.’

It did not take long for Rael to reach a projection-slash-conclusion.

‘Are you lonely, Seira? Are you, however, trying to ignore your loneliness? Because you are the head of your clan?’

Rael could tell that her solitary conquer of loneliness was not turning victorious.

‘It’s still early, but there are plenty of people going about, including the Central Knights. There’s a good chance she decided to stop by a crowded place even for a minute to weaken her loneliness. But does she have to go that far because of the shoes she is wearing?’

Almost as soon as he lamented, Rael could not help feeling deep relation to her.

After all, a falcon nesting atop a deadly precipice must fight off every risk, creature or creation, to protect its nest.

Rael knew he was in no situation to be a critic for Seira’s behavior, for he, too, half-forcedly made loneliness his new friend.

‘But loneliness is never cooperative. Whether you want to befriend it or shun it, it will not concede that easily. Particularly if you fail to cut off all your ties at once.’

The Kertia unleashed the air that had filled his head with a thick sigh, and the void in his head was replaced by responsibility he had forgotten momentarily.

‘I don’t have time to stand here.’

As Rael’s feet took him towards the Kertia land, his robe fleeted more noticeably than usual, as if personifying his mixed feelings of expectations, complications, and concerns.

*****

Where is I?

Who is this place?

What time is she?

Right now, who...

Oh, wait. She is the lord.

The lord of the nobles.

As soon as his brain finished making out the situation, Yuhyung’s mind – which was about to free itself from swamp of self-breakdown – was dragged back to the nightmarish pit.

The man went through hundreds of resolves. And thousands of determinations. Alas, now that he stood in the one and only noble sovereign’s presence, the pressure was beyond what he could dream.

Every single one of his brain cells was tap-dancing, thoroughly betraying its owner.

Yuhyung could not be more thankful that the lord appeared very, very generous. It has been roughly 5 minutes since their supposedly mutual conversation had turned one-sided; yet Yuhyung could not detect the slightest hint of annoyance on her countenance.

“Are you alright?”

“S-sorry?!”

“If your journey has damaged your ability to think accordingly, I can provide you with respite as necessary.”

“Uh... N-n-no! Not at all! I-it’s just that... I’ve never done something like this in my life...”

“Have no fear. I, too, have never done this. So let us take one step at a time. First, I would like you to show me the device you brought for me.”

“Ah, yes! Yes, of course! Allow me to... Uh, I mean, I shall do that!”

Yuhyung was shivering so hard any other spectator would envision his bones, flesh, vessels, and skin being separated by layers. Meanwhile, he pulled out from his bag a smartphone he had picked up from Tao.

“Uh... The Noblesse possesses a phone of the identical model.”

“I see. Now give me a moment.”

Lascrea removed herself from her throne, causing Yuhyung’s pupils to parody a Cirque du Soleil trick at least 5 times in a second.

His tremor much more intensified, Yuhyung started to outline Tao’s notices one by one.

“Uh, so... This is a model sold to the public, but the man named Tao modified it. It contains part of the source code essential for QuadraNet – uh, we decided to call this network the QuadraNet – so it will work here in Lukedonia. However, your phone is connected only to the Noblesse’s phone.”

Yuhyung’s finger glided across the screen, slow enough for Lascrea to get an understanding of the mechanism of the device that now belongs to her, partly because (in fact, largely because) he was still trying to believe this was reality.

The phone screen was almost empty, save for the corner covered by three applications. He tapped an icon marred with bloody calligraphy.

“This is a ‘messenger app.’ So – watch closely – if you tap it like this... And this... It will let you enter messages, which will be exchanged with those from the Noblesse. Right on the spot.”

Yuhyung performed a guide of the interface basically equivalent to commercially popular messenger applications, and Lascrea without hesitation orchestrated her fingers in staccato and typed in a message.

<Cadis Etrama di Raizel>

Yuhyung knew it is not polite to gape at someone, yet he could not control his eyes. Her action implied this was not her first time confronting a smartphone keyboard.

“I saw human children using this device, during my stay in your world.”

“Oh... I, I see! T-then I guess there’s no need for me to give you further details.”

Yuhyung returned to the main screen and sharply poked and initiated an application with crimson envelope icon.

“This is an email app that only you’d get to share with the Noblesse. I doubt you’d ever get to use it – not with the messenger app. But Mr. Tao decided it would be wise to make you one.”

After a brief demo of sending an email, Yuhyung directed his finger to the last application.

Which happened to be the main event.

“Now this is the application for the QuadraNet. With this app, you can log onto the QuadraNet whenever, wherever you are. As soon as the installation and furnishing of the system is complete...”

That was when Yuhyung relented in his speech; Lascrea immediately comprehended what held his tongue.

“I believe now is the time to show you our communication chamber.”

Yuhyung tagged along the noble lord like a puppy, and once he reached his destination, he stopped trembling for the first time ever since he entered the Lord’s Hall.

He did not think he would find much in the chamber. He had wondered, why would the nobles make use of human technology?

Contrary to his anticipations, he soon found himself standing in midst of every equipment and kit he could think of for communications.

Strongly convinced that his task will be much easier, Yuhyung smiled in a way only a confident man could manage.

In less than 20 minutes Lascrea got to marvel, upon returning to the chamber to give the man words of encouragement.

“The KSA has sent me a perfect person for the job.”

“Uhh... Oh, this is nothing!”

“How much progress do you presume you have made?”

Back to business mode in a flash, Yuhyung let his fingers dance across the keyboard he connected to the monitor.

“This chamber is now impeccably injected with gadgets from KSA and Mr. Tao’s appliances and programs. So I’d say it is more than halfway done. But...”

“We are not the only ones that will benefit from this project.”

“Right. I haven’t made contact with the werewolves, so I don’t have anything from their side. And until I get what I need from them, this system will be left incomplete. Would you mind if I collect what I need from them and finish the job once I get back?”

“Sounds reasonable. Which means you would need someone to take you to the wolfkind territory. I shall make arrangements on the matter.”

Yuhyung nodded to show he absorbed the idea, and Lascrea turned her elegant gaze towards the two Central Knights who shadowed her.

“Take the guest back to the cabin. And make sure nothing will affect his physical or emotional well-being. He is our priceless guest.”

The Central Knights replied in compliance, and Yuhyung very awkwardly bowed his head to her before he walked away with them.

Out of impulse he glanced back at her, to promptly tilt his head in curiosity.

Lascrea, who very quickly withdrew her attention from him, was looking down into her phone. And her face was flushed, floral – unmistakably marred with tinges of fluttering emotions.

‘What? Did she get a reply from the Noblesse? But how come she’s so delighted? Do they have a thing going on between?’

He did not have enough time to learn more about the most influential nobles of Lukedonia, because of which the only thing he could do was sway his head from side to side.

His gesture of inquisitiveness did not cease even as he stepped through the hallway outside. Even when someone approached him.

“My, my. Good day, gentlemen.”

Yuhyung flinched in pure gut reaction against a voice he has not heard before.

Once he fully grasped the appearance of the newcomer, Yuhyung inwardly exclaimed in shock.

‘My god... I’ve never seen an organism that looks more exhausted than I do.’

While studying his pale face, Yuhyung noted how the orange-haired noble was staring right at him. Hence he was rendered heedless of his own action as he gulped.

“Sir Deneb.”

“Can we be of service?”

“I heard we have an important visitor. As far as I’m concerned, he is the very first human guest we are to have in our generation. So I could not help getting curious. Which is why I wished I could get a glimpse of you from afar, sir. But what do we know? I ran right into you.”

Deneb very effortlessly shifted his speech towards Yuhyung, due to which the latter tensed up once more.

For a reason unlike the one he had in Lascrea’s attendance, however.

“Would it bother you if I escort him myself?”

“Sorry? Yourself?”

“There’s no need for you to do so. We are pleased to offer our service.”

“It’s alright. This would be a perfect chance for me to ease myself from the shackle of questions that I had no keys for until now. So please, could you be so kind and give me an opportunity here?”

Deneb even squinted his eyes in a silly grin, which rid the Central Knights of excuses, who awkwardly exchanged looks.

“Very well. We will leave this to you, sir.”

The Central Knights did not forget assuring Yuhyung that there is nothing for him to worry about before recalibrating their steps. Deneb, with the two nobles gone, made a full smile and strode towards the human doctor.

“Now, shall we continue?”

Yuhyung tailed the Illiness, his eyes not at all hiding his cringe.

His eyes stayed in the manner that he would by no means want to display to anybody, while they paced towards his cabin. Soon afterwards his eyes started to falter in disconcerted way, as he observed how the numbers of trees and pillars strange to him were increasing.

“Umm... Excuse me...? Sir? Are... Are we taking a detour or something?”

Yuhyung asked, hoping that he was wrong: this noble brought him to a place with nobody to pass by, instead of his cabin.

He was also unsettled by the fact that the noble who declared he had questions to ask was in fact silent throughout their trip. Finally, when Deneb turned around, Yuhyung clutched his bag tight onto his chest, Rael’s advice about his pendant wiped clean from his head.

“Seira J. Loyard. Do you know who I’m talking about?”

Deneb no longer sounded cordial or courteous. That was when enlightenment hit Yuhyung, upon the reason why he was attacked by anxiety not like the one he felt when he was with Lascrea.

“Pardon? Uh... Uh, yeah. My colleagues told me about her, but... Is there a problem?”

“When she was lodging in your world, what did she like? What did she do during her spare time?”

Yuhyung was momentarily speechless that his questions were about his own kind, not about him or homo sapiens.

“I... I believe she usually hung around with her human friends. She specially enjoyed chatting with her friends with a treat or two.”

Once he was done answering, Yuhyung fumbled with his lips. He was uncertain whether he was correct with the assumption that Deneb was asking about pastime.

“I’ll need a party.”

Just then Deneb whispered, almost to himself.

He smirked in a highly unpleasant way before the human could retort.

His smile was not hugely different from the one he exhibited when they first met; nevertheless, this time his profile was somewhat heinous. It no longer looked like the pale noble was smiling in a silly way.

Yuhyung could detect desire threatening to burst from every line and surface of his makeup. From the nanoscopic spots of color upon his pallid skin. From slim curves next to the corners of his eyes. From the tips of teeth ghosting beneath his lips now and then.

Yuhyung did not – or could not – stop himself from quivering in the face of a noble in hunger.

(next chapter)

[pitviperofdoom]

BNHA: Tenth

Summary: Midoriya trusts him with a message

AU: I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

July 8 - Day 4

    Theme: loyalty

    Quote: “I tried my hardest. I don’t know what else to do.” - The Darjeeling Limited (2007), Dir. Wes Anderson

AO3

Downtown Musutafu is a battlefield.

Shouto remembers Midoriya crying with relief earlier, in one of those brief moments in which they could stop to breathe before plunging back into the fight. I’m so glad, he’d said, furiously scrubbing at his face. My mom’s in Tokyo today. She’s nowhere near all of this. He’d smiled, and Shouto had rallied his courage in the light of that smile.

The call has gone out to any and all able-bodied heroes in the area—ranked and obscure, agencies and independents, sidekicks, pros, provisionals, anyone with a license and a willing set of hands. The heroes are fighting to subdue the villains, but they’re also fighting for their lives, and for each other’s lives.

Shouto keeps a running count in his head, of all the times he probably would have died or at least ended up permanently maimed, if Midoriya hadn’t been there to watch his back. He’s at eight, and the fight shows no sign of stopping anytime soon.

He and Midoriya are in the thick of it now, hemmed in on all sides with no room to breathe. They fight like their lives depend on it, because they do—they are students still but they are strong, and strong heroes attract strong villains like flies to honey.

But Shouto knows Midoriya and Midoriya knows Shouto, and they both know there’s nowhere they’re rather be. Midoriya can read his movements like a book, and Shouto has watched and experienced Midoriya’s fighting style long enough to learn it nearly by heart. They mold around each other, moving in and out of the space their powers provide, attacks slotted together in perfect time. They have each other’s backs—wherever one is weak, the other is strong. Midoriya watches Shouto’s blind spots, and Shouto strikes where Midoriya’s close-quarters style can’t reach.

Maybe it’s a risk, fighting like this. They ought to be self-sufficient, to cover their own weaknesses and blind spots, but Shouto can’t bring himself to care. Their power blends together, an unstoppable force and immovable object combined, and in this moment Shouto wants to do this forever.

They’re up against a villain whose quirk is powerful enough to bring down a building. Shouto shores up the structure in question with ice—not enough to halt its destruction, but more than enough to buy Midoriya the seconds he needs to meet the villain head-on and knock him out of the sky.

Shouto’s breath catches in his throat at the sight—Midoriya battered and bloodied and triumphant, framed in sunlight as he comes back down to earth. He leaps down along the crumbling architecture, navigating rubble and ice as Todoroki’s frozen supports fail and the building comes down. He is beautiful and powerful, and Shouto has never loved so fiercely as he does now.

Awe and weariness make him slow, at least in Midoriya’s eyes. His friend—classmate, teammate, partner in battle—reaches him in an instant, arm around his waist, and whips him clear of the falling debris before Shouto can blink.

They’re pressed together, breathing against each other. Midoriya hasn’t let go—if anything his arm tightens into something like a hug.

“You all right?” Midoriya asks, sounding only slightly winded.

“Never better,” he replies, and manages a smile.

Midoriya grins back at him, extra-bright. It’s one smile among many, but this is a smile that Shouto will never forget.

This one will stay with him.

Later Shouto will wonder what sort of quirk caused it, or if it was even a quirk at all, and not some run-of-the-mill shrapnel bomb. All he knows is that the world goes white and silent for a while, and when it comes back with color and sound and pain, Shouto is lying on his back on a bed of broken concrete, with Midoriya draped across him. His side stings like fire just below the ribs—shrapnel, he thinks vaguely. That’s going to hurt, coming out.

“Todoroki?” Midoriya whispers hoarsely by his ear, his head tucked against Shouto’s shoulder.

“’M fine. I think. You?” His ringing ears make his own voice sound so very far away.

“You’re okay?” Midoriya presses. “Y-you’re—sure?” He breaks off with a cough—not dry and choked with dust, but wet.

“Something hit me,” Shouto admits. “We need to get out. Can you stand?”

There’s no answer. That’s what frightens Shouto first, that Midoriya can’t reassure him, not even with a simple lie.

He looks down, shifting under Midoriya’s painful weight, and sees why.

He sees blood, and shredded green fabric scorched black at the edges. He sees the thick piece of rebar responsible for tearing a gash beneath Shouto’s ribs on the right side.

He sees the other end of it, protruding from the spot where it punched through Midoriya’s back before it got to him.

“Todoroki?” Midoriya’s voice isn’t supposed to do that—send chills up his spine and rot the contents of his stomach. It’s supposed to be calming, reassuring, nothing less than warmth and light. “It’s—it’s bad, isn’t it?”

He needs to get up. He needs to get up now.

Shouto moves, and immediately cries out in pain. His broken ribs scream in protest—it burns where one of them pokes through skin. But he moves again, as Midoriya trembles in shock against him. Midoriya doesn’t cry out—either he can’t feel the pain, or it’s too much for his voice to express. Shouto’s vision goes white with agony as he forces himself to move, until he’s out from under his friend and wrenching free of the rebar.

“I’m sorry,” Midoriya whispers, as his breath turns to ragged wheezing. “My body—it moved on its own, it—”

The battle is resuming around them, and villains who weren’t close to the epicenter of the explosion move back in. There is no time left to recover. Shouto slips his arms beneath Midoriya—it hurts, it hurts. He’s sure his arm is broken, but if Midoriya can tear down his fears and barriers with shattered fingers then the least he can do—the very least—is this.

The rubble and destruction around them provide plenty of places to hide, at least, and Shouto drags both himself and Midoriya’s limp body to the shelter of a fragment of wall that still stands somewhat vertical. Midoriya coughs wetly again. His eyes are wide, his face drawn and pale. Tears cut clean tracks through the blood on his face.

By some miracle, Shouto’s phone has survived the destruction. His shaking hands smear blood on the screen as he sends out a distress call. With heroes and emergency services stretched so thin today, it will be a minor miracle if they get an answer, and Shouto knows he can’t carry Midoriya to safety with broken rib sticking through his chest.

“I can still move—I’ll get help,” he says, with a numbness he doesn’t feel. He wishes he could be numb. “Just stay hidden, I’ll find someone who can—”

Midoriya’s hand shoots out, grabbing Shouto’s wrist before he can rise. Wide green eyes bore into him, desperate and pleading.

It’s not fair. There’s supposed to be hope. As long as Midoriya still breathes, there’s supposed to be a chance, however small, that he can survive—that Shouto can do something to stop this. But when he looks into Midoriya’s eyes, he knows. If he leaves Midoriya now, he will be leaving him to die alone.

Shouto wants to be sick.

“I can get help,” he whispers.

But he can’t—not quickly enough, not when he’s half-dead himself. And Midoriya doesn’t want help. He just wants company.

With the battle still raging around them, Shouto gathers Midoriya up as gently as he can and pulls him into his lap. Midoriya’s facing him, curled up on his side to keep from jarring the rebar. Silent tears pour from his eyes, and his face is still blank with despair.

“There’s still hope,” Shouto tells him, his voice tight. “It’s not over yet. I called for help. Someone will come. Just—stay alive until then, Midoriya. Stay awake.”

“I don’t want this,” Midoriya chokes out. “I don’t—this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I know.” His voice cracks.

“I failed,” Midoriya sobs. “I failed, I failed, I failed, I wasn’t supposed to die—”

He almost loses it then and there. “No, Midoriya, you didn’t—”

“I can’t die yet, Todoroki.” Midoriya presses his face into the crook of Shouto’s arm. He’s crying, crying so hard it must hurt. “I can’t, I can’t—”

“Midoriya—”

“I’m not—” He coughs again, and dark flecks of blood stand out on his lips. “—done yet.”

“I know.” It feels like tearing in his chest, like shrapnel shredding his insides. “You’re right. You’re not done. You have so much to do—that’s why you stay alive.” His dry eyes burn as he struggles to hold Midoriya’s gaze. “You want to be number one, remember? We’re going to reach the top together. You and me. Everyone.” He tries to smile, tries to trick the sickening fear and despair within him. “But you have to stay awake. You have to stay with me.”

Midoriya’s unfocused eyes stare back at him, and Shouto can’t read the thoughts behind them. But then he sees them light up, and his heart lifts—but then they dim. Resignation trickles into them like poison, and Shouto thinks no, no, don’t give up yet.

“I’m sorry.” Midoriya’s eyes are too calm as he reaches out and latches onto the front of Shouto’s bloodied costume. There’s hope there, but it’s not the hope Shouto is looking for. It’s wrong, all wrong. “Todoroki, I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to stay alive.

“I don’t want—to burden you.”

What?

“I don’t—this isn’t how it’s supposed to go, but—but I don’t—I can’t—”

Part of Shouto wants to quiet him, before he panics and hurts himself, but the rest of him knows—Midoriya is fading, fast, and Shouto wants to catch every word he can from him, lock it away in his heart where it can never escape.

I love you, he wants to say, but Midoriya moves before he can.

It’s one last burst of strength, when Midoriya reaches up and catches the back of his neck, drags Shouto down and surges up at the same time.

The kiss is desperate and messy and tastes like salt and copper, but Shouto returns it with everything he has. It fills him from end to end, burning him from the inside out, and he drinks in the feeling like he’s desperate to drown.

When he pulls back, Midoriya has fallen limply to his lap again, still crying softly. “S-sorry,” he repeats. “I’m sorry, Shouto.” The dullness of despair has softened, replaced with weary relief, as if there’s a weight off his chest. He’s still gripping the front of Shouto’s jacket, tugging, and Shouto leans down to hear him over the sound of battle.

“Tell All-Might I’m sorry.” Midoriya’s eyelids hang heavy. “Tell him it’s not his fault, he didn’t force me, I chose this and I’d do it again.” Shouto has no idea what he’s talking about, but he nods as he commits it to memory. Midoriya pulls him close, whispers in his ear, something Shouto barely catches—one last piece of instructions that make no sense.

“I love you,” Shouto tells him, and Midoriya breathes his answer—and his last—with his lips pressed against Shouto’s ear.

---

It takes too long for Shouto to go to All-Might. He doesn’t talk to him after he gets out of the hospital, or on the first day of school after Midoriya’s death. He doesn’t approach him during the vigil that UA holds. He doesn’t seek him out, and when All-Might is the one to approach him, only a few days after Midoriya died in Shouto’s arms, he turns around and walks the other way.

It’s selfish, to wait so long to fulfill his promise to Midoriya. It’s nothing but selfish to hoard Midoriya’s last words, to put off passing along his message. But when he thinks of those words, locked tight in his heart and his memory, it feels like holding a piece of Midoriya with him, like Midoriya’s ghost is following him, waiting for him to do this one last thing. It feels like if he does, then he’ll let that last piece go, and the ghost will leave him at last.

It’s not until a full week later that he stops being selfish and cowardly, and the one who helps convince him in the end is his father.

Not that Endeavor meant to do anything like encourage Shouto to be selfless enough to let his dead friend go. Shouto isn’t actually sure what Endeavor meant to accomplish.

He doesn’t see his father often anymore, but he does now, one week after Midoriya died.

“Still moping?” Endeavor asks gruffly, and that’s when Shouto tries to turn off the part of his brain that processes language. “Get over yourself. There’s no point in feeling sorry for yourself, or him.” Shouto tries to walk away, but that’s when Endeavor adds, “Just remember, it’s less competition to worry about.”

When Shouto comes to his senses, the surrounding walls are scorched and frozen over, and his father is at the other end of the hall with two facial fractures, a thick coating of ice, and a dent in the wall behind him. Shouto walks away shaking.

The next chance he gets, he visits the teacher’s lounge and asks for All-Might, only to be directed to Recovery Girl’s office. He takes the long way, half-hoping that his teacher won’t be there when he arrives, but he is. Shouto finds him red-eyed from crying, with an empty tea cup in his hands and the school nurse bending him a sympathetic ear.

He doesn’t look at All-Might as he passes on Midoriya’s message word for word. He can’t, not when All-Might lets tears fall silently down his gaunt face. The message means little to nothing to him. He remembers, distantly, a time when he’d wondered if Midoriya and All-Might were related, if Midoriya was his secret son. He knows it isn’t true now, but it might as well be. Everyone who knows them can see that All-Might’s world ended when Midoriya Izuku died.

“He told me to tell you something else,” Shouto continues, as All-Might wipes his eyes and processes what Shouto has told him. “Right after he—um.” He remembers the taste of blood, the desperation in their first and last kiss, Midoriya’s mouth against his ear. “I don’t know what it means.”

All-Might seems to rally himself, and looks him in the eye.

“He wanted you to know that—that he didn’t let it die,” Shouto says, hoping with all his heart that there really is meaning to these words, that they weren’t just the delirious rambling of dying boy. He remembers the taste of salt and copper on his tongue, the fire in his veins, the wrenching pain of loss. “He said that h-he… he hoped you’d trust his choice.”

He raises his eyes to All-Might’s, and sees them widen in sudden dawning comprehension that Shouto cannot share. He takes a deep breath.

“And then he said to ask you about One For All.”