#I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE FOR PUTTING THIS ON YOUR DASH

[seospicybin]

VIEWFINDER.

PART II

Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. (s,a)

Chapters: Part I

Synopsis: An accidental reunion sets the sparks fly between you and Seungmin, but the relationship takes a turn at the end of the summer and you seek help from your frenemy, Minho. (20,2k words)

Author's note: Contains angst and 2min fighting for you. Enjoy!

📼 Viewfinder playlist.

Summer break has ended and the first time you're dreading it. You are usually excited to go back. You always come with new goals and study plans, starting all over with a refreshed spirit after the long break.

Rina is strangely quiet about you not coming home for days until one day before the summer break ends. When you came home yesterday, she only looked at you for a moment then eyeing the food you brought.

Food is the best option to solve problems and cure heartbreak. She seems to have moved on though or she's covering it well with her usual bright smile and glossy lips.

"Can't wait to go back to university life," she says with sheer sarcasm, throwing her bag onto the sofa.

"Yeah," you half-heartedly respond while pouring coffee into her favorite mug.

"That's weird," she says, folding her legs on the sofa and taking her mug of coffee from you, "You usually would give a speech about how excited I should be."

You dryly laugh and sit on the armrest of the sofa. It feels awkward being with her after living with Seungmin for weeks, you have to keep reminding yourself to be careful around her.

"So... how are you?" You ask, followed by a sip of coffee.

"Feeling like shit actually," she bluntly answers.

So she hasn't fully recovered yet from the break-up, and you feel bad for your absence at such dire times.

"I'm sorry for not being here," you sincerely apologize.

She waves you off and swallows her coffee, "You're spending time with someone and you seem happy so who am I to stop you?"

That puts some weight off your chest and you feel at ease after hearing that.

"Although, I'm disappointed that you haven't introduced him to me yet," she says, narrowing her eyes at you.

You close your eyes as guilt paints over your face, "Promise, I'll make time and introduce him to you."

"Okay, good!" Rina simply responds and starts checking her phone as it rapidly dings with new notifications.

You check the time and it's time to go, you have to ride a bicycle to campus so time management is crucial for you.

"I have class at 8," you announce as you put your coffee mug into the sink and quickly grab your bag from your bedroom, "Bye, Rina!"

You're riding your bicycle while enjoying the warm sunlight when another bicycle almost crashes at you, forcing you to brake and almost sending you to crash.

"It's too early for this, Minho!" You groan in complaint.

"I'm surprised you didn't dress like a biker chick with a leather jacket and spiked boots," he jokingly says, taking a jab at you.

"I'm surprised that you didn't ride a motorcycle yourself."

Minho likes to think that he's that intimidating, well, he could be at times but you're never scared of him. You give him the side eyes and notice that he changes his hair color into soft brown which softens his sharp facial features.

You laugh and click your tongue at him, "I'm not aware that robot gets jealous. They must have updated your software while I was away."

"Me? Jealous?" He innocently asks.

"Buy a motorcycle and grow up, Minho!" You say while paddling towards the gate of the campus, leaving him behind you to not let him drag your spirit down when you need it the most.

Summer hasn't completely left yet and you want to soak as much sun as you can before the weather turns colder but you hope you stay warm inside no matter the season.

-

The time isn't right.

When you have time, Seungmin is busy working and when he has time, you're busy studying. This is why you hate being away from him, your heart aches and is heavy with longing for him. The only way to solve it is by making time. You dash out of the room the second the last class ends and bicycle your way back to the apartment to the point that your legs burning.

Thank God, Rina isn't home yet or she'll ask you a ton of questions before letting you walk out of the door. Remembering how much Seungmin likes seeing you in a dress, you borrow one from Rina's closet and call a taxi to get you to his apartment.

Since Seungmin sometimes uses his apartment as a workplace, he keeps the door unlocked at all times and you push the door with your shoulder while carrying the food you bought on the way with the plan of having dinner with him.

There is no one inside and it's not like you have any other options, you put the bags of food on the kitchen island and grab yourself a glass of water. As you're about to pour yourself another glass of water, the door swings open and Seungmin comes through the door, his hair is disheveled and you guess it's from wearing a helmet.

"Hi," you quickly greet him but keep a space to not creep him out.

"Hey," he says, looking slightly taken aback and you're sure it's because you came without telling him.

"I'm sorry I came without telling you," you say because it's always safe to apologize first.

"I just—"

Now that he has acknowledged your presence and you're not creeping him up for coming unannounced, you walk up to him and kiss him. A kiss that slowly revives you and brings you back to life, God knows you needed it so badly. You gasp when you let go of the kiss, "I just miss you so much."

Seeing his face and not kissing him is impossible, you allow yourself to kiss him again, a little longer than the first one.

"Okay, I'm— I brought us food and we can have dinner together. It's you..." your word trails off as someone appears behind him, a girl with a model body and beautiful long, blonde hair.

"Oh, you have a guest!" You wildly assume, trying to fill in the awkward silence that passes between the three of you.

Seungmin turns to look at her and says, "Can you wait in the studio?"

"Sure," she answers, carrying her purse with her in the direction of the studio with a big sliding door that separates it from his private space.

He then looks at you and says, "Come with me!"

Science says that whenever you get a bad feeling, it's actually anxiety, and as much as you hate to admit it, it could be both.

You and Seungmin sit on the end of the bed, he's softly smiling at you as he fixes your hair. That usually works to soothe you but not now. Your hands are balled into fists on your lap and you just want to vomit all of your thoughts out.

"You're working tonight?"

"She's working with you?"

"It's okay if you are, I'll just go and—"

Oh God! It's happening, you're rambling. It's the anxiety-talking, not you. The only thing that stops you is your body turns against you and makes you choke on air midsentence.

"That is Yoora," he answers, "We worked together a few times and we've been hanging all afternoon."

It's the way he casually shares all that information with such ease that gets your nails digging into the inside of your hands.

"Hanging out, huh?" You almost lose your breath at the end of the sentence.

Seungmin places his hand on yours and calmly speaks, "Before I speak further, can you please keep your mind open? Can you do that for me?"

You nod as you feel your windpipe is closing in and making it harder for you to breathe.

"I like you very, very much," he begins.

"But I'm not used to conventional things. Social obligations and forced conversations. Saying no to all the things I want to say yes to," he shakes his head in despise of those things.

Your mind is scrambled to even try to stick with one thought or any thought for that matter.

"And that includes dating."

No matter what he's trying to say, it seems like the only conclusion you make in your head is that he wants to stop dating you.

"Do you want to break up with me?" You croak.

"No, no," he quickly denies.

Seungmin quietly inhales air and licks his lips before speaking, "I want to keep dating you but I want our relationship to be an open one."

You can't force your brain to work with the lack of oxygen and anxiety taking over, "What do you mean?"

"We're dating each other but at the same time, we're free to see someone else," he explains.

Yes, you do know what an open relationship is but what you're questioning is how calm he is about this. This is how far you let your mind open yet you still have a hard time processing it.

"Look, I'll understand if you don't want to do this but I want to give this a shot. We have the—"

You hold your hand up to stop him talking and take your hands from under him, "Give me a minute!"

Turning your head the other way and look out the window to see your reflection against the dark of the night sky yet you still can't make sense of everything. You look at him and force yourself to smile, "I need time to think."

"Okay," he says with a nod.

You get up from the bed and wipe your clammy hands on the hem of your dress which reminds you of how you made the time to come here only to receive a shocking revelation. Seungmin is trailing behind you as you take your jacket and purse from the sofa. You walk in the direction of the door and see that the blonde girl is unpacking the food you brought.

"Can I eat this?" She asks, not sure if she's asking you or Seungmin.

You glance at Seungmin and then at her, "Yes, you can have it. Please, don't let it go to waste," you say with an edge to your voice.

After what he asked of you, you can't bring yourself to look at him and not feel bitter about it. Maybe it's your fault for thinking you're that special to him.

Seungmin blocks you from getting to the door, "Hey, I hope you know that I meant it when I said I like you," he says.

Well, that only makes you guess how many times he has said that or more importantly, how many girls. He puts his hand under your chin and forces you to look at him.

"You're not like the other girls I know. We were married once," Seungmin tries to be playful but it falls short on your end.

You put on a weak smile for him as you stare into his eyes, hoping he can see how devastated he makes you feel right now.

"Can I kiss you?"

You wonder if his kisses would either heal or break you apart so you nod.

Seungmin caresses your cheek and tells you the answer with a soft kiss on your lips. You look down the second your lips parted and tell yourself that maybe you shouldn't have been curious. That's just you, blessed with inquisitiveness. You read books because you want to know and the more you know the less afraid you would be when faced with a strange situation like this.

However, for the first time in your life, you don't want to know the answer to this.

-

The plan is to stop thinking about Seungmin.

However, the more you try to distract yourself from it, the more you think of him. He's not only invading your head, he's overriding your life altogether. You're hardly studying, you can't sleep, you lost your appetite, you come home only to wallow more in your room. It's been like that for a week.

Also a week without Seungmin calling or texting you, it's like the whole summer has gone away with the season.

When the professor announces that there'll be a quiz today, you're not confident you'll get a good score. Somehow, you let your discouraging thoughts manifest into reality. As you stare at the score written in red ink, you can't even be mad about it. It seems like you're going to keep spiraling down from here.

"Am I dreaming or I saw you got a C minus?" Minho says, peeking at your graded paper from behind you.

You crumple it in your hand and angrily shove it into your bag, not answering him. You're stomping your way out of the class to get away from everyone, and can't wait to go home to be by yourself again.

Your hand is rummaging inside your bag, looking for the key to the chain lock and almost having a breakdown for couldn't find it quick enough to avoid Minho.

"Congratulations Minho, you're smarter than me," you quickly say to him because that seems to be what he seeks from you, a validation that he finally gets ahead of you.

You put your bag into the basket with a loud thud and bend down to unlock the bike from the rack in silence.

"Drinks then? It's on me," Minho offers, standing with one hand on the handlebar of his bike.

"No, thanks," you answer without thinking then.

Minho shifts his weight to one side and slings his backpack on one shoulder, "Hey, are you okay?"

"How am I doing has nothing to do with the reason why I don't want to drink with you. I just don't have time for your self-centered, snobby remarks," you tell him, a little too harsh to be honest.

This is why you need to get away from people, you don't want to lash out at them. The words are out of your mouth, the damage has been done and all you need to do is leave.

You back your bicycle out of the rack but Minho quickly grabs you by the elbow, stopping you before another cycler crashes into you.

"HEY! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO WALK YOUR BIKE OUT BEFORE RIDING IT!" Minho scolds him even though he keeps riding away, unbothered.

He turns to look at you and asks again with his hand on your shoulder, "Are you really okay?"

You don't know why he chooses right now to be nice to you, you shrug his hand away from you and leave his question unanswered.

The heat that usually clung to the air has been replaced with a cool one, you're riding your bike with your eyes staying on the road and your mind wandering away from your body. It's muscle memory that helps you to keep paddling your way home without you having to order your brain to do it so and your reflex is still working when you make a quick turn to avoid two people carrying a big box across the street and in the process, you lost your balance and fall to the side, then onto the sidewalk.

You don't feel anything even after you arrive home and only notice a bruise on your ribcage when you change your clothes.

"Oh, God! That's a nasty bruise," Rina comments as she barges into the room without knocking like usual.

"I fell on my bike," you inform before she gets the wrong idea.

She takes a look at it and touches the skin, making you yelp in pain, "You should put ice on it," she says.

Rina wraps a few ice cubes in a thin towel, then sits next to you on the couch, slowly putting it on your bruised ribcage.

You hiss in pain while taking over the homemade ice pack from her, gently pressing on it, "Thank you!"

"Do not ride your bike for a while," she suggests, looking at you with worry.

You nod because there's no use fighting a losing fight.

Rina picks up her book and instead of reading it, she puts it on her lap. It seems like she has something else to say to you.

"Just say it..." you meekly allow her despite how blunt she can be.

She takes a breath and lets it out until both of her shoulders slumped, "Are you okay?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" You sigh and rest your head back.

Rina puts her book away and turns on the couch to face, "Because you've been acting not like yourself lately. You're always in your room, you're barely talking to me and you don't even care that there's an expired carton of milk in the fridge right now," she lists out all of the things that are way out of your pattern of behavior.

"You always care about everything and now... it's just like you've given up, completely," she sadly adds.

She inhales air and asks again with concerns filling her light brown eyes, "What happened?"

You're not ready to talk about Seungmin to Rina. Not only that you haven't introduced him yet to her but that also means, she will not get the whole picture of what truly happened between you and Seungmin.

"Is it because of the guy you're seeing?" She asks like she's seeing through your head.

Rina is quick-witted so it's no surprise that she knows right away that the source of this change of attitude is an external one. She scoots closer and puts her hand on your knee, "Did you guys break up?"

It's time for you to take a deep breath and carefully answer her, "No, it's... complicated."

"Oh, no," Rina reacts by closing her eyes and letting out a dramatic sigh, "Complicated means it's even worse than breaking up."

Hates it when she's always right but Rina has more experience in dating and romance which automatically makes her smarter than you.

"So what is it? Does he have a problem getting it up? Weird kinks? Oh!" She suddenly gasps in surprise with both hands covering her mouth. She suddenly lowers her voice to say, "Are you pregnant?"

You groan in disgust and quickly deny, "No, it's not that."

Rina takes another guess at it and wipes her hands down her thighs, “Well if it has nothing to do with the sexual stuff then… commitment issue?”

Can’t tell if Rina is good at guessing or if all men have the same basic problem? But it’s taking you aback how spots on her guess is that you don’t know how to respond to it.

She raises her eyebrows at you knowing that she guessed it correctly, “Oh, it’s so classic,” she says with a smirk.

“It’s not exactly that but it’s around the commitment area,” you correct her.

Rina’s forehead wrinkled into a question. As she opens her mouth to say something, the doorbell rings. You both look at each other, trying to guess who’s behind that door because none of you ordering food or expecting a guest.

“I’ll get it,” Rina volunteers and walks to the door to open it.

You wait on the couch in anticipation, you don’t want to get your hopes up, but at the same time, your hopes are already flying higher than your expectation. You hear Rina chatting by the door before walking back inside.

“An attractive young man is looking for you,” Rina announces with a sly smile.

There’s someone behind her and as she walks closer, she steps aside to reveal the person walking behind her.

It’s him, the bruise that reminds you of your heartache, Seungmin.

-

After introducing him to Rina like she wanted, you take Seungmin to your bedroom to avoid Rina eavesdropping on your conversation and close the door behind you. You pull the chair from your study desk to slowly sit on it while Seungmin sits on the edge of the bed facing you. It wasn’t what you expected him to see when he walked in on you sitting on the couch, wounded.

“What happened?” He asks.

It’s not good to second-guess his intention but ever since that night, you keep wondering about the way he treated you. Was he being genuine? Was he faking it just to keep you wrapped around his little finger?

“Fell off my bike. It’s not a big deal,” you keep your answer short.

Seungmin seems to have expected this attitude coming from you and you believe it’s because he knows he deserves it. He sheepishly smiles and nods.

“At least, let me treat it for you,” he says.

You hug yourself to not let him see it, it’s already enough for him to see you’re hurting, “No, I’m alright now.”

He reaches for your hand and turns it to show you the scrape you have on the heel of your palm, “Let me take care of it for you.”

His hand is warm like the last time you hold it but you remember you shouldn’t have let him in and try to retract your hand from his, but his grip is strong. He takes the first-aid kit Rina brought to your room earlier.

Seungmin carefully dabs ointment on the scrape and then blows on it to soothe the pain. You hate to admit it but you long to share a moment like this with him and he’s so tender, so caring, he makes you feel like you’re the only one in the world. He’s still like a dream to you.

Once he safely covers your wound with a bandage, he holds your hand in his with his thumb softly rubbing on the back of your hand. He leans forward and looks at you, his eyes reminding you of summer days, bright and warm.

“I miss you,” his voice is as soft as the breeze slipping through the window.

You’re close to breaking but you put on a strong face, staring him right in the eyes, and say, “It doesn’t seem like that to me.”

Seungmin holds your gaze like you’re holding the galaxy in your eyes and trying to find out what’s lurking beyond the vast darkness. He takes your other hand and holds it on your lap as if it would help him find what he’s looking for.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text,” your voice breaks at the end of the sentence and you can’t hold yourself together again.

“I can’t help but think that you don’t want me anymore.”

And right now, as he stares into your eyes, he’s seeing you wounded from the inside too.

“I just thought you need the space and time to think,” he tells you.

You break into tears and fall apart in front of him, there’s no use in hiding your pain anymore. You melt the moment he holds his arms out for you and into his welcoming embrace where it’s safe and comfortable, a haven.

“I miss you so much,” you admit and your heart shrinks in your chest.

Seungmin pulls you by the hands to let you sit on his lap and not waste time wrapping his arms around you so tightly, forgetting about the bruise you have.

“Ouch,” you shriek in pain and hurriedly put his hand away from where your bruise is.

“How about we lay down, mmh?” he suggests.

Oh, how you miss his scent! He smells of sunshine, leather, and fabric softener, he’s of everything that makes you think of the summer when he took you on trips on his motorcycle. Your eyes are closed as you drink in his scent while he lightly runs his fingertips down your arm.

Seungmin gently kisses your arm and looks at you, “Are you still awake?”

“Mmh,” you answer with your eyes closed.

Endearingly, he puts the strands of hair covering your face and puts it to the side, “I don’t know if you believe this kind of thing but I think fate brought us back together again.”

You open your eyes and his eyes are the first thing you see, “You think so?”

“I waited years to meet you again and I feel there’s something here,” he speaks while brushing away the hair covering your face.

Hearing him being honest and open makes you realize that you owe him for not listening to what he had to say that night. This time, you want to give him the chance to explain himself.

“It’s the first time in my life that I feel this deeply for someone and it’s you,” he says as he puts your hair to the side and holds it there.

"I want to do it right with you and that's why I chose to be honest with you," he adds.

You hold his gaze as he speaks his heart out against the quiet of your room and your hand intertwined with his in the space between your bodies.

“But I understand if you don’t want to give this a shot. I just want to let you know that… I really like you, I do.”

Maybe it is possible to be in a relationship as long as you mainly focus on his true feelings for you and that's the only truth you need.

Who knows that with time Seungmin will realize that you're the only one he needs?

"I like you," you say back to him.

Seungmin brings your hand close to his mouth to kiss you and you use the chance to softly brush his lips with your knuckle.

It's not going to be easy but all you need to do is be more understanding and open-minded, you believe you can do those things for the sake of this relationship, for the sake of you and him.

"And I think we should give it a chance," you give your final answer to him.

A smile rises on his beautiful face and he leans in to kiss you, a soft kiss that pieces you back together and makes you whole. A kiss that once broke your heart but now revives it back to life. A kiss that has found its magic back.

"Thank you," he murmurs and he leans in again to place a long peck on your lips.

Seungmin lends his arm for you to use as a pillow and you're more than happy to comply, snuggling close into his body and leaving no gap between your bodies.

He repeatedly runs his hair through your hair and then softly asks, "Sleepy?"

You hum your answer while tightening your arm around him while he angles your head to place a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

"Goodnight," he says right after he pulls away from the kiss.

How are you going to sleep with the butterflies fluttering in your stomach?

-

It's painful to put clothes on with the darkening bruise on your ribcage.

You're doing your usual morning routine, shower, breakfast, and skipping reading the news to focus on making your coffee. You're nervous about it since Seungmin takes his coffee seriously. It's not going to be as good as his but you try your best to at least make good coffee. You get startles startled when he appears with his eyes still sleepy and fluffy bedhead.

"You didn't wake me up," he says, trudging his way to you.

"You sleep so well. I feel bad if I have to wake you up," you answer.

He stops to stand next to you and sleepily smiles, "Morning!"

"Morning!" You say back with a smile, "Coffee?"

"Yes, please!" He sweetly answers.

You're reaching up for the cabinet to get mugs and yelp in pain, forgetting about the bruised ribcage.

"I'll get it for you," Seungmin offers, getting the mugs easily without having to stand on his tiptoes like you always do.

"Thank you," you carefully fill the two mugs with hot, steaming coffee.

You look at him as he takes a small sip, anticipating his reaction to your coffee, "Is it good?"

He takes another sip before answering, "It's fine."

You let out a quiet sigh of relief and can finally sip your coffee.

"Does it still hurt?" He asks, leaning the side of his body against the kitchen island.

"Only when I lift my arms," you reply.

Seungmin doesn't hesitate to lift your blouse to take a look at your bruise, observing it without touching it because he knows it'll be painful for you.

"Put ice on it regularly," he suggests, slowly letting go of your blouse.

"Okay," you reply.

"Don't ride your bike for now," he adds.

"Yes," you respond with a smile.

Seungmin takes another sip with his hand lingers on your hips, "I'll take you to campus today."

"No, it's okay, you don't have to," you kindly refuse, holding your coffee mug with both hands while looking up at him.

"I'm not asking," he says with his eyes staring at you.

You can't help seeing his hair tousled and not try to brush it for him, you put your coffee away so you can fix his hair.

"I'll finish the coffee and use your bathroom," he says, closing his eyes as you brush his hair to the back with your fingers.

"Clean towel on the top of the rack," you inform.

"Then I'll take you to campus," he continues.

"Okay," you put your hands away to let him go.

Seungmin opens his eyes and finds yours immediately, "Maybe after I give you kisses too," he says while putting down his coffee mug.

You are not prepared when he presses his lips on yours. The first kiss is a long peck on your lips and after that, he repeatedly pecks on your lips, making you giggle. In your peripheral vision, the door of Rina's bedroom is open and she's just standing there watching Seungmin kissing you in the kitchen. She eventually interrupts by clearing her throat.

"Good morning!" She cheerily says.

Seungmin reluctantly stops kissing you but keeps his hand on your waist, "Morning!"

"Coffee!" You quickly grab a new mug for him and Seungmin is kind enough to get it for you.

"Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom," Seungmin says, leaving you and Rina alone in the kitchen.

Rina is staring at you with a wicked grin on her face as you're pouring her a cup of coffee, making you feel uneasy. She waits until the sound of the shower is turned on to start drilling you with questions.

"So, that's the summer guy?"

"Yes."

"He's the one with the commitment issue?"

"Ah... yes," you awkwardly answer.

"I see that the issue has been solved," she says with her glossy lips curling into a sly smile.

You stall by sipping your coffee, "uhm... yes."

"I bet it was with one hot makeup sex," she wildly guesses.

You almost choked on your coffee hearing that because that isn't what happened. Last night, the two of you did solve the issue together then fell asleep right afterwards.

"No," you strongly deny.

Runa bursts into laughter, "Oh, my God! Chill! I'm just glad you stopped looking depressed and unmotivated," she says.

She lifts her coffee mug close to her mouth and adds, "Also glad that I don't have to hire a contract killer to hunt down the person who broke your heart."

You laugh at her words and refill her mug with more coffee to show your gratitude. Rina may seem bold and flippant, but you know that she actually cares deeply for you.

Seungmin holds out his hand to help you hop onto the back of the motorcycle. The campus is not that far so he rides slowly, holding your hand that is resting on his waist to shove it into the pocket of his leather jacket.

Suddenly, you don't want this ride to end, you want to ditch everything and just go wherever he takes you even if it's to the end of the world. You reluctantly get off the bike when he pulls up at the gate of the campus, slowly taking off your helmet to stall the time.

He also takes his helmet off, ignoring how disheveled his hair looks but that only makes him more attractive and you hate that everyone else can see him.

"Have a great day!" he wishes with a bright smile that softens his facial features, making him look like a puppy.

You hand him the helmet and wish the same for him, "You too. Have a great day!"

He reaches for your waist and pulls you close, smiling as he presses a soft kiss on your lips. At that moment, you don't care where you are or if anybody is watching. He holds the side of your face after letting go of the kiss, "I'll call you later, mmh?"

"Okay," you answer with a shy smile.

Taking you by surprise, he kisses you again and triumphantly smiles when he pulls away, "I'm going."

"Be careful!"

He puts his helmet on and you frown because that means there'll be no more surprise kisses. He turns the engine on and rides with the wind that brings him back to you.

-

The promise you made to yourself is that you'll keep your mind open and be more understanding.

There's not much changing except that he calls you once in a while or sends you a text when he's in the middle of work. You appreciate the effort and that he's keeping you in his thoughts. Seungmin has been keeping you on read for hours now and you try to distract yourself by watching a movie with Rina, you even made a bowl of popcorn for you to snack on together.

"It's Friday night," Rina blurts out of the blue with the bowl of popcorn resting close to her chest.

"And tomorrow is Saturday, yes, the point is...?" You half-heartedly ask her back.

"You have a boyfriend now. Aren't you supposed to be out and show the world how in love you are?" She says without looking at you.

"He's working tonight," you lie because it's easier than giving her the chance to analyze your relationship.

She turns her head to look at you and puts the bowl of popcorn on her lap, "Tell him you're alone at home, and trust me, he'll come running!"

You scoff because you know it'll hardly work on him and he probably gets that kind of text already, but they're most likely from the other girls, not you.

Now that she gets you thinking of the other girls Seungmin is seeing, you get up from the couch and go into your room. As you lay on your bed staring at the ceiling, you think of Rina's trick, it may be fallible, yes but it's worth trying. Instead of texting him, you call him and will keep on calling him until he picks up.

"Hey," you sweetly greet him as soon as he picks up the phone.

"Hey," he says back and it's nice that you can hear enthusiasm in his voice.

"What are you doing? Are you done with work?"

"Yes, I've just finished it," he answers along with rustles on his end of the line.

"Oh, that's great. How about we get dinner together?" You spontaneously ask him.

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now," you answer even though you have had your dinner already.

He sighs into the phone and then says, "I promised Lea that I'll treat her to dinner after work."

Your smile fades in a second and close your eyes, feeling defeated, "Okay, then."

There's a pause before Seungmin says something, "How about—"

"I'll see you," you abruptly end the call.

The other day it was Jane, yesterday it was Mila, and tonight, it's Lea. Another day, another girl to be worried about.

You fling your phone until it lands on the other side of the bed and sighs, "I'll see you never more like."

The next day, you have enough of giving other girls the chance to be with him. You wake up early, put on your nicest dress you just bought online, and spend an hour styling your hair, leaving the apartment even before Rina wakes up from her sleep.

You stop by the bakery on the way and buy a few baked goods, you don't bother buying the coffee because he'll only drink coffee he made himself. Except that day, Seungmin tolerated your coffee because it's you who made it. You push the door of his apartment and let yourself in, smiling because he's already awake. He's in the middle of grinding his coffee.

"How many of your muses come over in the morning bearing breakfast?" You say, showing him the bag of food you bring with you.

"Good thing I always brew a pot of coffee," he says in response.

He walks up to you, taking the bag from your hand to put it on the dining table so he can hug you and properly kiss you. One kiss is all it takes to remind you that a part of him is dearly yours and no one can take that away from you. You hold him back and hold on to him, returning his kiss with the same passion.

"Morning," he says with his lips glistening wet from the kiss.

You smile looking into his warm brown eyes, "Morning!"

Seungmin continues making his coffee and it's better to give him the space to do his morning ritual, you use the chance to take a look into his studio. You can see the trace of his works from last night from the lights and the props are still there, his computer is already on and you wonder if he's been up all night working. You return to the kitchen with a cup of coffee already waiting for you and you pull a chair to sit next to him.

"Did you stay up all night working?" You ask in curiosity.

"Kind of," he answers.

You frown and suddenly regret for coming when he needs the time to rest, "I'm sorry for coming without telling you."

He shakes his head and takes out a piece of pastry out of the bag, "I should be the one apologizing for not replying to your texts and the call."

You wave him off, "It’s okay. I was stupid for asking when I knew you were busy."

The morning sun hits him right on the eyes, making them shine as he softly gazes at you, "I want to show you something!"

He takes you back into his studio where he pushes the button to automatically close the windows, making it completely dark with the only source of light coming from the computer screen.

"Please, wait!" He tells you as he operates the computer, pulling a file from so many folders stored on his computer.

It gives you the itch at how unorganized his computer filing is but you hold the urge to say something. You look away and patiently wait like he asked you.

Then the projection turns on and shows moving images on the wall, you can't see it at first but after a moment, you recognize that it's you. These are all the pictures he took of you when you first came here, also the ones he took after he first kissed you that night.

"Is that me?" You ask in disbelief.

The girl in the pictures is beautiful, bright, and happy, it's nothing like you've seen countless times in the mirror. Seungmin hugs you from the back and watches it together with you with his hands wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"It's you," he assures you.

It's like seeing a side of you that you never knew you had but you believe it's because you were in love.

"What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," you delightfully sigh.

"You are beautiful," he says with a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You slightly turn your head to the side at him, "But it's also weird looking at myself, not that this is weird but seeing myself..." you look back at the projection and continue talking, "... like this."

He turns his head at you and says, "Well, you have to get used to this because you're my source of inspiration," he coyly says.

Seungmin must be oblivious to how much his words affect you. Your cheeks are heating and your heart is leaping, it means so much more that he said you're his source of inspiration. In that moment, you believe that it's possible to be his one and only, it takes time but you're willing to wait until he's ready.

You turn around to face him and look into his eyes, there are so many things you want to say to him but at the same time, you can't fathom them into words. You show it through a kiss instead, showing him how much he means to you by passionately kissing him and putting your hands around him to show that you don't want to let go.

Seungmin tightens his hold around you, one hand holding the nape of your neck so he can angle your head as he pleases so he can deepen the kiss and taste you more. He only lets go to let you catch a breath and capture your lips in a kiss again, harder and hungrier than before.

The sound of the door being slammed shut stops the kiss and you see through the doorway that someone is coming into the apartment.

"Am I early or...?" The girl asks.

Seungmin checks on his watch and says, "No. You're actually right on time."

He glances at you and introduces her to you, "This is Yoon. She models for me."

"Ah..." you lowly gasp and suddenly, you feel like you're getting in between them instead of the other way.

"I should go," you hurriedly walk out of the studio.

"No. Please, stay!" Seungmin says.

You grab your bag from the dining table and sling it on your shoulder, "I have something," you lie.

You're aware you have to sound believable when you lie, "I have to go shopping with Rina. She's waiting for me."

Seungmin is following you as you're walking to the door but you just want to get out of there quickly, "I'll call you later. Bye!"

You close the door behind you and never look back, but it seems like Seungmin doesn't bother to chase after you.

-

It's only ten in the morning, but you don't want to go home and risk being asked by Rina why you dressed so nicely on a Saturday morning. You stop by a grocery store and buy a loaf of bread, walking in the direction of the park to clear your head while feeding the ducks by the pond.

"Where are you going with a loaf of bread?" Someone asks.

You turn on your feet and see Minho, stopping on his bicycle to talk to you. You feel horrible for the way you treated him that day.

"To the park," you answer.

"And what are you going to do with the bread?" He asks, eyeing the bag of bread you're holding in one hand.

It's an embarrassing thing to admit but after what you did that day, you remind yourself to be better than shrugging him off.

"I'm going to feed the ducks by the pond," you admit.

Minho looks at you for a moment and nods, "I'll come with you."

He gets off his bicycle and decides to walk it as you both navigate your way through the park to the pond where a flock of ducks swimming by the pond.

"For you," Minho hands you a cup of coffee.

The coffee tastes bland compared to the coffee Seungmin made but you thank Minho nonetheless. You're ripping the bread into pieces before throwing it to the mother duck with her ducklings trailing behind her.

"So this is what you do on the weekend?" He asks.

Minho is wearing a knitted sweater that looks a size too big for him yet somehow it looks good on him. The royal blue color suits him well.

"Not really," you take another slice of bread to shred it into pieces, "I come here when I need to clear my head."

Minho cracks a laugh, "What could possibly piss you off this early in the morning?"

You shrug and toss a big chunk of bread to the other mother of duck.

"I assume it's a who, not a what," he says, then sips her coffee.

He then takes a slice of bread and helps you feed the duck as another flock gathers around you.

"That explains why you were upset that day," he says with a sly smile on his face.

Minho sees through you like you're a ply of tissue which instantly makes him more dangerous than Rina. Also, he is being polite when he says you're just 'upset' when he has the right to say you were such a bitch that day. You refrain from sharing more about how he can easily conclude with a few details and it reminds you to apologize.

"I want to say sorry for that day," you sincerely tell him.

One corner of his mouth curls into a lopsided smile, "It's alright."

It's the last slice of bread you're holding and before the ducks are asking for more, you walk away from the edge of the pond.

"Why are you walking so fast?" Minho asks while fumbling to collect the coffee cups to throw into the trash bin nearby.

"The ducks are going to chase us asking for more food," you turn from jogging to half-running.

The lunch is surprisingly delightful and you get to talk in a civil manner like normal people. Minho ends up paying for it since he pulls his credit card faster than you.

"Let's say we're even," he says.

He offers to give you a bike ride home again but with the previous experience and you've just had food in your stomach, you decide to switch the role this time.

"Only if I'm the one riding," you tell him, not wasting time to get on his bike.

He laughs at your idea, "Are you sure? I'm heavy."

The more he tries to underestimate you because you're a girl, the more challenged you are. You wave him off and tie your hair into a ponytail.

"Just hop on!"

Minho is right to underestimate you. You've been riding the same street for years and only realize now that a few of them are inclining.

"Are you sure you don't want to switch?" He asks from behind you.

You shake your head and pretend to be okay even though your legs are burning from paddling, "Nah. We're only a block away."

Minho silently laughs behind you, "Well, if you insist."

He is supposed to prevent himself from falling but it's the other way, he's holding you by the shoulders to keep you balanced.

"We're almost there!" He says, squeezing your shoulders with his hands.

You can see your apartment building and paddle the bike with the remaining strength you have, wanting to end this torture you put on yourself as fast as you can. It takes everything in you not to crash the bike and pass out on the pavement, you patiently wait for Minho to get off first, then park the bike next to the pole of a streetlight.

"Told you I'm heavy," Minho says.

You shake your head, still trying to play cool about it, "I haven't been cycling for a while so..." you can't even finish your sentence because your mouth is too busy catching your breath.

After a moment of Minho pretending to care for his bicycle when he's actually giving you time to compose yourself. When he deems that you're no longer panting, he turns around to look at you.

"I must say I'm impressed," he says.

Your hands are on your waist as you say, "Don't hold your breath, Minho."

He lowly chuckles and stops himself from continuing, "Now, we're even."

"That's fair," you nod in agreement.

You look at him and slyly smile, "I was lying when I said the ducks were going to chase us."

"I know," he casually says.

"Then why are you running with me?"

"Cause I wanted to," he simply answers.

It's hard to process that there's a part of him that is this easygoing and just so fun to be with. You can't stop laughing at how you only discovered this part of him at a random time and Minho can't help but laugh along with you.

As the hilarity subsidies with time, you take your bag and hold it in front of you, "Thank you for lunch!"

"You're welcome," he responds with a smile that you rarely see on him, warm and friendly.

He gets on his bike and looks at you, "I'll get going then."

"Be careful," you blurt and why would you say that when he always rides his bicycle everywhere, "I mean, yeah, be... careful!"

Minho only responds with a smile, then rides away.

When you come into the apartment, Rina is sitting on the window sill and you guess she saw everything. She looks at you after you lock the door behind you.

"And where have you been?" She asks with her sly smile on.

"Lunch with Minho," you simply answer, walking to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water.

"Dressed like that?"

"I was..." You think of an alternative answer by taking a big gulp of water.

"Yeah," you decide to spare her the reason why you dressed so nicely.

"Now, that you have a boyfriend—"

You hold your hand up to stop her from talking, "Seungmin wouldn't be jealous, I can promise you that," you tell her because that's just the truth.

Seungmin is with a beautiful model named Yoon in his studio as you speak, he's not giving a damn about you going on lunch with a friend from campus.

"It's not that," Rina says.

You jerk your head away and take another gulp of water.

She walks up to you and stops behind the kitchen island, "You shouldn't lead him on."

"Can you not speak in riddles, Rina? Please?" You whine, still exhausted from giving a grown adult a ride on the bike.

"Minho likes you. You shouldn't lead him on," she makes it clear by emphasizing every word to you.

You snort and water almost comes out of your nose, "yeah, sure," you half-heartedly say, then laugh it off.

Rina follows you as you walk to your room then stops at the doorway, "Laugh and deny all you want but you know that it's true," she confidently says.

You smile at her because even if it's true, it wouldn't change a thing and Seungmin wouldn't mind with you seeing another man. But you're not going to do that, you're going to prove that you're the only one Seungmin needs.

-

Gone are the warm sunny days as autumn arrives with the change of the colors of the leaves. You put on your thin coat before going out of the class and on the way out of the building, Minho joins you while carrying his books in one arm.

"Have you read the email from Professor Lim?" He asks as he's descending the stairs next to you.

"What? Did I miss an assignment?" You ask back in panic and fumble to look for your phone from the pocket of your jeans.

"No, it's the invitation to his gathering," he answers.

You stop by the door and step aside, not wanting to block other people from passing by, "I don't think I'm invited," you hopelessly say.

Minho dramatically rolls his eyes at you, "You only failed one of his tests."

There it is! You open to check if it's really the invitation and indeed it is. Professor Lim only invited the brightest students in his class and knowing that your academic presence is a little declining due to personal issues, you can't lie but feel relieved that you're still considered as one.

"It's next Saturday," he says.

"Yes, I can see that," you tell him and continue walking down the stairs.

"So, who are you going to take?" He asks.

"Is it necessary to bring a plus one?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

He shoves his hands into the pocket of his jeans, "You're not going to take your boyfriend?"

It's funny that when you hear the word boyfriend, you don't immediately think of Seungmin, he's your boyfriend but at the same time, he doesn't feel like one.

"I'll try to ask him but I'm not sure," you tell him.

You're heading to the gate since you haven't been able to ride your bike yet and Minho is following you instead of turning to the bike station.

"You didn’t ride your bike today?"

"Popped my tire yesterday and I haven't got time to take it to the shop," he replies.

Even with an extra layer of clothes you're wearing, the cold wind is slipping through you. You're rubbing your hands together to warm yourself.

"Want to get some coffee?" Minho asks.

Having a warm drink in a weather like this couldn't be more perfect, you excitedly nod at his suggestion, "Sounds nice, yeah, sure."

There's a coffee shop one block away from campus and you both exit the campus gate heading that way when a bike stops at the side of the street.

In one look, you know that it's Seungmin even though his head is hidden in a helmet. He lifts the visor and exposes his face, softly smiling at you.

You come up to him, "Seungmin? What are you doing?"

"I came to pick you up," he simply answers, then hands you a helmet.

"Come on!" He says, not asking but ordering you to get on the bike and doing it so confidently.

You remember that you were heading to get coffee with Minho, you turn to look at him while holding the helmet in front of you.

"I'm sorry but can we do coffee next time?" You ask with an apologetic smile.

Minho coyly smiles at you and shoves his hands deeper into his jeans pockets, "That's okay."

You wave bye at him before putting on the helmet and getting on the motorcycle. You feel a funny feeling seeing Minho watch as Seungmin takes you further away from him until he disappears from your sight.

-

Seungmin notices that you're slightly shivering from riding through the cold, autumn air. He holds your hands as the elevator is taking you to his floor. He looks at you with his body pushing you to one side of the elevator.

"You're freezing," he says.

"I'll be okay," you tell him.

He doesn't answer but unzips his leather jacket, putting your hands on each side of his waist next to keep them warm under his leather jacket, "Is it warm enough?"

You nod yet he proceeds to rub his hands up and down your arms. In this enclosed space, he's closing the gap between your bodies with each passing second. He can feel every breath you take and the pounding of your heart in this proximity.

"Better now?"

"Yes," you breathless reply.

His fingertips brush your cheek as they reach for your hair to tuck it behind your ear and you stifle a breath as he holds you there. The elevator chimes and interrupts the intense moment, he takes your hand to lead you to his apartment like you never went there before.

You understand why he seems giddy as he guides you further inside, he has prepared dinner for you with candles and everything.

"I just need to get the wine," he says, going to the kitchen to get it.

"We can order when we're here... why?" You're at a loss for words.

You get used to setting your expectations low so when he does a grand gesture like this, it's nothing like what you have in mind.

"I cooked the dinner," he informs.

"What? You cooked all of these?" You say in awe, looking up at him as he's filling your glass with wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around the room.

"Yeah," he says it like it's not a big deal.

He lights the candles on the center of the dining table, "It's a little cold now but I hope it suits your taste," he says.

It's the way he acts like he doesn't prepare all this for you that only elevates his attractiveness, Seungmin is one of a kind and it makes you want him more. His cooking suits your taste just right and it tastes as nice as the smile he's giving you the whole dinner. You feel content just from being able to have alone time with him.

"Are you working today?" You ask to make sure that no one is going to interrupt again.

"I finished early," he shortly answers.

You let out a low sigh of relief and sip your wine to wash the anxiety down your mouth. You can finally relax your shoulders and truly enjoy the moment with him.

"I have another surprise for you," he announces after wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of surprise because it doesn't always mean good.

"Yeah?" You nervously ask.

He gets up from his chair and holds his hand out at you which you eagerly take. He takes you in the direction of his studio and slides open the door to reveal the surprise.

"Oh, my God!" You gasp.

Seungmin turned his studio into a private art exhibition where he decorated the room with white sheets hung all over the wall and images of you projected onto them.

You cringe the moment you recognize that it's you, "It's still weird seeing my own face."

"Why? You're beautiful," he says as if it's that obvious.

He leads you to the center of the room where you can see the videos he took of you playing on each side of the wall at the same time. They look like dreams from the past but in the best way, you like how it reminds you of those summer days when everything was much warmer, brighter, and less complicated.

You look down and see that he put a bed on the floor, "That's so presumptuous of you," you say as you sit down on the bed.

Seungmin is slyly smiling as he takes a seat next to you and props one hand against the bed, "Well, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

You turn your head to the side and get greeted by his stare, "But I want to do... anything," you say.

He's already gone as you catch his eyes staring at your lips, he looks into your eyes again to say, "That's even better."

Is it pathetic of you to say that you miss being touched by him? Well, Seungmin can see how you crumble at the faintest of his touch on you. If it wasn't a sudden invitation, you would have dressed so nicely and put on a nice pair of lingerie. From the way he looks at you with eyes wide and heavy with lust, you're thankful that the matching underwear you're wearing is flattering enough for him.

"So beautiful," he sighs with his knuckles rubbing the back of your thigh.

He leans down to kiss your neck and chest, pulling away to look at you then sighs, "So warm..."

Only using the tip of his fingers, he places fluttering touches across your chest and murmurs, "So soft..."

He then uses his mouth to make a trail of kisses down the front of your body, stopping when his lips meet the waistband of your underwear.

Seungmin doesn't hesitate to plant his nose on your clothed core and takes a sniff at it. His hand smoothly parts your leg open and keeps it open by curving his arm around it. Through the sheer fabric of your underwear, he traces the bundle of your nerves with his tongue, circling it until it's soaked with a mix of his saliva and your essence.

Impatient, he puts the underwear to the side so he can put his mouth on your wetness, lapping at it like a man with an endless thirst. Lying on the bed almost naked with his head between your legs, you bite a finger between your teeth to muffle your noises.

Seungmin knows how to make you feel good and when he thinks using his mouth is not enough, he adds his fingers to stimulate you more. Your back is arching, slowly pulsating your hips at his face and riding on his slender fingers that curl inside you, lowly moaning through your parted mouth.

"Oh, my..." you sigh with your hands now grasping the sheet under you.

Seungmin takes your hand and slips it in his hair, wanting you to tug at it. He dives deeper into your wetness, his tongue endlessly teasing your clit, and sucks on it hard that earned him a loud moan from you. As the knot tightens inside you, your legs start to press into his head but that doesn't stop him from pleasing you until you cum all over his mouth.

Seungmin drags his glistening wet mouth across your stomach and places kisses on each breast before placing his mouth on you, kissing you so deep that it takes your breath away. He leaves you gasping for air once he lets go of the kiss, going for your neck to plant kisses on the sensitive skin. His hand smoothly pulls your soaked underwear down your legs without you realizing.

You do the same by opening the buttons of his shirt, removing every piece of clothing so you can every inch of his warm skin and taut muscles.

"I dreamed of you fucking me every night," Seungmin whispers.

You giggle as his breath tickles your ear, "Do you want me to?"

He doesn't answer but turns over on the bed and you're lying on top of him, his hand glides down your spine and stops at the curve of your ass, squeezing the ample flesh there as he presses a long kiss on your lips.

Seungmin is underneath you yet you feel intimidated as you're straddling him on the bed, his eyes never straying away from yours even for a second. You begin by reaching for the clasp of your bra on your back and take it off, slowly letting it slide down your arms, then you see that his eyes are slightly faltering at the sight of your naked body sitting on top of him.

Instead of feeling shy, you get a boost of confidence from the way Seungmin admires your body with eyes that light up in fiery desire and hands that endlessly explore places that make you lustfully sigh. You put your hands on his chest and slowly, drag them down, you watch as he whimpers as your hands stop on his abdomen. Your eyes flick at his then down at his hardening member, wrapping your hand around him to slowly stroking it.

You can feel his cock pulsating with desire in your hand, so hard and so veiny, hot all over. The harder it gets, the harder you resist yourself, you take a position and angle his cock into your entrance, wetting the tip by rubbing it down your slit.

Slowly, you ease yourself down his length as a long, breathless moan falls out of your mouth, "Oh..."

You bite your lower lip, feeling overwhelmed by how good it feels to have him inside you and fill you perfectly. You whine as he is fully sheathed in your warm, velvety walls.

Seungmin grips your waist with nails that dig into the flesh. You throw all of your hair to one side and enjoy watching him struggling to calm himself down.

"Do I feel good?" You ask him.

He sucks air through his gritted teeth and closes his eyes for a moment to finally answer, "So fucking good."

Hearing that, you feel confident to continue and you start rolling your hips, back and forth, fucking him like he dreamed every night. Not enough from just watching you fucking him, Seungmin sits up so he can kiss you, putting his hands around you with his head buried between your breasts.

"Even better than my dreams," he says against your lips.

You smile and return his kisses with the same eagerness, feeling his cock engorged inside you as you clench around him. Finding yourself lost in the pleasure as well, you put your hands around his neck as support and change the pace, bouncing on his lap as everything intensifies.

Seungmin takes your breast into his mouth and sucks on it hard, making you tug at his hair at how painful yet delightful that is. He then uses his tongue to play with your nipple before letting it go, leaving your breast wet with his saliva. He looks up at you as his hands grip each side of your waist, "You keep clenching around me."

You cup his jaw and ask, "You want me to stop?"

He shakes his head, "No."

The room is quiet except for the sound of bodies and lips crashing against each other, breathless moans, and the rustles of the bedsheets that hardly cover the bed anymore. With his hand gripping the nape of your neck, he forces you to keep looking at him as you both are closing into your highs.

Your high-pitched moans clash with his low grunts the moment both of you reach your climax together. You collapse onto his shoulder while he holds you close with his arms tightly wrapped around you.

A few kisses later, he gently lays you down on the bed and slowly pulls out of you, his eyes widening seeing his cum dripping out of you. It surprises him how much he cum inside you yet he pushes his cock inside you again before laying down next to you. He kisses your lips and nestles his head in the crook of your neck.

"I feel weird now," you say.

"Why?"

"We had sex with me watching us," you say, pointing at the video playing on the walls.

"I think it's sexy," he disagrees, then kisses your lips.

He props a hand against the mattress to support his head and tenderly caresses your cheek with his knuckle, "Want to know something?"

"Yeah?"

He gives you a soft peck on your lips first before speaking, "I think that we are indeed fated to meet again."

You put your hand on his chest and thinking that it would help you tell if he's being honest, "You think so?"

His eyes filled with nothing but admiration and sincerity, softly staring into yours and making you vulnerable under him, "I think you're the one for me."

Is it a sign that he's ready to commit to you? That you'll be the one and only girl in his life? Or should you hold your breath longer?

"I like you so much," he confesses, then rests his head on your chest.

Nevertheless, you don't want to think about what's coming next. You want to focus on this euphoric feeling of hearing those words coming out of his mouth. With that, you set yourself free and float onto cloud nine.

-

No one knows what time is it because all you can see are videos of you playing on a loop on the walls. You turn to the side and see Seungmin's eyes are open for you don't know how long. He could've watched you sleeping for hours for all you know.

"What time is it?" You croak.

He kisses your shoulder and puts his hand across your chest, "To be honest, I don't know," he replies.

You sleepily chuckle and put your hand on his forearm, "Coffee?"

"Okay," he takes your request, then rolls over to hover above you, "I'll make coffee after a kiss."

A kiss turns into two then three kisses and the fourth kiss escalates things further. The next thing you know, you're fisting the sheet and being a moaning mess underneath him.

Despite the sex revives both of you more than caffeine does, Seungmin just can't start his day without making coffee. The smell is wafting around the room while you're observing his camera collection and pick up one he's lending you.

It's been a while since you haven't taken his pictures and it's just the perfect scene, he's putting on his serious face with his mouth slightly curled into an adorable pout. He glances in your direction at the sound of the camera shutters. You ignore his glare by taking more pictures of him dressed in a white t-shirt with his fluffy bedhead.

"Oh?!" You stop to check why it won't take another picture, slightly fearing that you might have accidentally broken his camera.

He takes it from you to look for the issue, "You run out of films," he simply points out.

Seungmin pours you a cup of coffee first before handling the camera, pulling open the drawer to get a tube for the film.

Before the smell of coffee makes you forget about what you planned to ask him, you look at him and ask, "My Professor is inviting me to his gathering next Saturday and I'm thinking of taking you as my plus one."

Seungmin carefully opens the back of the camera to extract the roll of film, "When is it again?"

"Next Saturday."

He unlocks his phone to check his calendar, "Sorry, I have an appointment that day," he says.

It's not like you expected him to agree to socialize with your Professor. Just a tad disappointed but you understand that he's busy.

"That's okay," you assure him with a smile.

He puts down his phone next to his cup of coffee and takes the tube of films with him, "I'll put this to develop later."

His phone still lights up when he leaves for the studio and you don't mean to be nosy, but it's sitting there so you drag it close enough to see his schedule.

Kayla. 8 pm. Hotel Seville. That's what is written on his schedule for next Saturday. Before he notices that you're snooping in, you lock the phone and put it back next to his coffee cup. He returns to the kitchen, placing a kiss on your cheek as he walks past you before sitting on his stool.

"That looks good on you," he says, eyeing the shirt you're wearing which is the same one he wore last night.

"Yeah, it's comfortable," you reply with a smile.

"You can have it."

"I was planning to steal it anyway," you jokingly say.

Maybe you were over your head to think that what he said is a sign or maybe it is a sign for you to take a deep, deep breath and prepare yourself to hold it in longer this time.

-

The silence lets you dive further into your head and bathe yourself into your thoughts. Deeper and deeper, you're slowly drowning yourself in it until someone pulls you out of the water, taking you back to the real world that is just as harsh and as cold.

"I know I'll find you here," Minho says.

You thinly smile at him and shut the book you're hardly reading, "What's up?"

Minho puts his backpack down on the floor and joins you to sit at the other end of the window sill, it's your favorite spot in the library, "Did you fail another test or do you always look this terrible?"

If your head wasn't so centered around Seungmin, you would have come with a funny retort. You can only scoff and act like it doesn't bother you, to be honest, the only thing that bothers you is Seungmin.

"So, who are you going to take tomorrow?" You ask to shift the topic and your mind altogether.

The gathering is tomorrow which reminds you of the preparation that is still at zero. You haven't found a dress to wear and worse is no one to go with.

Minho fixes the collar of his coat as he says, "I don't think anyone wants to go with me."

That's a lie. The truth is a lot of girls are dying to ask him out and one of them would be more than glad to go with him if they weren't intimidated by his indifferent attitude, his smart mouth that only speaks harsh truth, and a brain that matches the size of his ego. The safe bet is Minho thinks that no girl is worthy enough to go with him.

"How about you?" He asks back.

"I'm taking myself," you answer with a dry laugh.

Minho sharply inhales air through his teeth and shoves his hands into his coat pockets, "Why don't we go together?"

Does it mean you're worthy enough for him? And why does that make you feel somehow... flattered? You look at him in suspicion, trying to guess what he is actually thinking when he asks you that. You eventually give up reading his inscrutable expression.

"But why?"

"Why not?" He asks back instead of answering.

You awkwardly laugh as you put your books back into your bag. There are no written rules where you can't take another guest as your plus one and he's right, why not?

"Yeah, sure," you take on his offer, "I'll meet you there."

It's not like Seungmin is going to mind you're going with Minho.

-

With Rina's help, you found a black dress with an appropriate length to wear to the gathering. She also lends her dainty earrings and high heels to match with it. You hold on to your coat as the cold slowly seeps into you as you walk on the pavement leading to Professor Lim's house.

From afar, you can see that his house lights up brighter than the other house, and cars are parked along his side of the street. You're fifteen minutes early from the appointed time but intellectuals always come early if not punctual. You pick up the speed of your walking when you see Minho standing outside.

"Why are you here?" You ask.

"I'm invited."

You snort hearing his answer, "I mean, why you’re not inside?"

"I'm waiting for you," he answers, a curl of steam escaping his mouth, and tells you he must have been waiting long outside.

"It's cold. You can wait for me inside!" You scold, taking him by the elbow to climb the steps and knock on the door.

Not long after, someone opens the door and greets you, "Hello, I'm Kevin, I'm Professor Lim's husband."

His marital status shocks you more than knowing about his sexual preference and you take his hand for a handshake, "Nice to meet you!"

Minho takes his turn to shake his hand and Kevin is surprised by his cold hands, "It's cold outside. Come in! Come in!"

After taking off his coat, Minho helps you take off yours and does it carefully so as not to ruin your hair which Rina spent almost an hour to style.

"Thank you," you mutter as you turn around.

He freezes for a moment just looking at you before he can say something, "You look nice!"

You're not used to gentleman Minho who knows how to treat a girl. You look at him to give you an idea of what you should compliment on him.

"And you look... not bad," you praise.

Honestly, Minho looks dashing tonight. He wears a black suit and a crisp white shirt, the suit jacket perfectly suits him, showcasing the broadness of his shoulders and the dark slacks enhance the length of his legs.

It's a polite thing to do to greet the host of the gathering and thank him for the invitation. Professor Lim looks more lively tonight than he looks when he's in his class.

"Please write down your answer for the quiz tonight," He says.

Every guest has to write down their answer to the same question. You and Minho take a card each to write your answer and read the question above already written on it.

"The person you would most like to have dinner with real or imagined, living or dead is..."

You know the exact answer that would please Professor Lim since he talks a lot about his favorite writer.

"George Sand," you and Minho say in unison and break into laughter together.

You check everyone else's answer on the big crystal bowl and see that a few of them have written the same answer, it's either George Sand or her full real name just for added impression.

You decide to skip on writing your answer, "I'm going to get a drink."

Minho also ditches his card and follows you, finding the waiter who carries a tray of drinks around the room. He grabs two champagne flutes and hands one to you.

"I always wanted to see his book collection," you tell Minho.

He confoundedly shifts his eyes to the big shelf full of books behind you, "And those are not books?"

You take a small sip of your wine, "He has a study room upstairs and it's off-limit to guests," you lowly whisper.

Minho looks around and spots that the host is busy talking to a group of people and his husband is walking around making sure everyone is enjoying the food.

"Well... it's not exactly off-limits," he says, taking you by the hand and sneaking up the stairs as everyone else is busy socializing.

Professor Lim's study room is located on the third floor, it is supposed to be the attic but he turns it into a big study room and you guessed it correctly, that's where he keeps his dear books. Without turning on the lights, you use the flashlight on your phone to scan the titles of the books, they're well-preserved first editions.

"Oh!" Minho suddenly gasps from the other side of the room.

You turn around and find him cradling a bottle of brandy, it's half full and looks very expensive.

"Let's have a party on our own," he says with mischief written all over his face.

You usually steer yourself away from problems but you really don't want to go back downstairs and try to socialize, talking about intellectual stuff. You just want to dull your mind with alcohol. Minho pushes the window and takes the drink with him, leaving you with no choice but to follow him, hanging out by the roof of your Professor's house.

"Why are we drinking on the roof? It's cold and high, it's a disaster waiting to happen," you tell him.

He holds his hand out at you, "I brought the blanket from his chair," he says, showing you the plaid quilt blanket.

You sit next to him and resist looking down, "And about the height?"

He wraps you with the blanket, then puts his arm around you, "I'll keep you safe."

"Ugh!" You groan in disgust and shrug his hand away from your shoulder.

He laughs and uncaps the bottle of brandy, from the smell of it you can tell the alcohol percentage in it. He takes the first sip, then winces at the bitter aftertaste.

"We share the bottle?" You ask as you take the bottle from him.

"We can't use the glass and leave evidence, right?"

You sigh and reluctantly take a small sip of it, aware of how much alcohol it contains. You hurriedly hand it back to him.

"Let's be honest..." you say.

"Okay."

"What's your real answer?"

"Answer to what?"

"Professor Lim's quiz," you answer.

Minho takes a longer sip this time and prepares himself for the aftertaste, gasping once he swallows it down. He takes another moment to think of an answer.

"Tolstoy," he answers.

As expected, his answer would be one of the Russian writers. You take your turn to drink and hand it back to him quickly.

"You?"

"Since we're being honest, I'd say... Howl Pendragon," you say with a smile.

Minho gives you a judgemental look and sips the brandy without any expression whatsoever.

"We can have dinner on his moving castle and if I'm lucky, I get to meet Calcifer too," you defend your answer.

"Whatever," he comments, followed by a thick cloud of steam.

You decide to share the blanket with him, scooting closer to him and covering his back with it. You cling to the sleeve of his suit jacket and smile, "I have to hold on to something so I won't fall."

Now that the silence resides between you and him, you can see the view from the roof, mostly the university complex and the clock tower in the middle.

"If we were being honest..." Minho says, "My answer would be you."

You look at him and in this proximity, you can smell his alcohol-tinted breath, "You're drunk already."

"No... not really," he vaguely answers, then shrugs.

"Well, you can simply ask me to dinner," you tell him, "It's not like we never had dinner together before."

He gazes into your eyes and asks, "Then what about your boyfriend?"

"My boyfriend is... not really my boyfriend," you cryptically say.

"What does that mean?" He narrows his eyes at you.

You blame the alcohol for loosening you up and let your words unfiltered, "We're in an open relationship."

"So...?"

"So, he's seeing another girl as we speak," you continue.

"That's—"

"We'd better get back," you quickly end the conversation before he can dig more personal things out of you.

Drunk you is dangerous but drunk Minho is way more dangerous. You take the bottle of brandy from him, it's wise for the two of you to stop drinking. You cap the bottle and get up first, helping him walk back into the study room, then put the bottle back where it belongs.

Safely make it back downstairs undetected, you look at Minho and he looks fine, it looks as if he didn't drink a drop of alcohol.

"I need to eat something to soak the alcohol with," he excuses himself to leave your side.

Okay, maybe he is drunk yet you regret telling him about Seungmin and the open relationship thing.

In the middle of Professor Lim's reading the answer to his quiz, you decide to leave early and thank Kevin on the way out. As you collect your coat by yourself, Minho appears from behind you, taking his coat that hangs next to yours.

"Let me drive you home," he sounds as demanding as usual.

You chuckle at him, "On your bicycle?"

"No, I'm taking a car tonight," he says.

Minho isn't joking, he's driving a car tonight and you're sitting on the passenger's side, looking at his hands holding the steering wheel. This time, you conclude that it's not about how hard he grips the steering wheel, Minho simply has veiny arms and you remind yourself to look away before it gets creepy.

"The crab cakes helped you sober up, huh?" You joke.

"I stole a few slices of bread from Professor Lim's kitchen actually," he jokes back.

"Bread absorbs alcohol faster, noted."

The ride shouldn't last this long but at the same time, you don't want it to end. In this space and silence you're sharing with Minho, you feel inexplicably comfortable and safe.

"Do you have plans for winter break?" He asks.

"No."

"You're not going to your parents for holidays?" He glances at you for a second before looking straight ahead at the road.

"They're going out of the country to celebrate it with my sister and their in-law," you answer.

Minho doesn't respond but steadily taps the steering wheel with his fingers.

"What about you?"

He drops one hand and rests it on his thigh, "My parents live not too far away from the city so... you'll see me around."

"Oh, how lovely!" You meant to make it a snide comment, but you say it in a sweet tone.

Your apartment comes to sight and Minho slows the car down before pulling to the side of the street and stops the car altogether.

You unclasp the safety belt and hold your purse close to your chest, "Thank you for the lift home!"

Minho turns off the car engine, then turns his head to the side, "No problem."

Weirdly, you don't feel like getting out of the car, it's warm and quiet in here, and you're not ready to step out into the cold yet.

"Thank you for being my plus one," you add.

"Likewise," he says back.

Your cheeks are heating and you're blaming the car heater for it, not because Minho can't stop staring at you.

"I.. uh-" you lost your train of thought and quickly recover yourself, "I'll see you around."

You're about to push the car door open when he suddenly grabs your elbow. You put your hand away from the handle of the door and turn to face, "Yes?"

"Can I..." His words trail off and he swallows air instead of continuing his sentence.

You chuckle seeing him so confused and flustered all at once, "Are you still drunk?"

Minho lets out a chuckle, "Maybe."

"Want me to drive you home then?"

"Yeah," he playfully answers.

"To be honest, I am slightly drunk to drive a car," you answer, half-laughing.

In the space filled with both of your waves of laughter, your eyes meet and he's leaning in, closer and closer until his lips land on yours.

Minho glides his soft lips on yours, warm and wet, hot breath filling your mouth as you let him taste you more. His hand holds the side of your face with his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek. The kiss is everything you expect to feel when you kiss someone you like. Your heart is fluttering, you feel a tingle inside you and your chest is overflowed with warm feelings.

However, the kiss makes you realize something.

You pull away until Minho's hand slips away from your cheek.

"Goodnight, Minho," you sadly say.

Without looking at him, you step out of his car and into the cold that seeps into your bones, freezes your heart, and makes you numb.

-

Seungmin rarely calls you twice in an hour when he usually calls you at certain times just to keep you on your toes. You've been thinking out loud by the time you reel yourself back to reality, you notice you have two missed calls on your phone. You hit call back and he picks up right away on the second ring, that's also a rare occurrence.

"Hey, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie because it's easier.

You hear him sigh, then say, "I miss you."

That's another rare occurrence. He usually says those words after you say them first to him.

"Miss you too," you hate to admit but it's true.

"You sound unwell. Are you okay?" Seungmin asks with a concerned voice.

Even through your voice, he can sense something is going on with you. You lick your lips and lie again, "It's the cold weather."

He lowly gasps then says, "You better dressed warmly. I don't want you to get sick."

"Okay," you immediately comply but you can't find it in you to engage in a long conversation with him, "so, why did you call me?"

"I can't call my girlfriend because I miss her?" He sweetly says.

Seungmin knows how to make you weak on the knees and you hate that you always fall for his sweet words.

"So that's it? You miss me?" You play along with him.

He laughs and you also hate how your heart rattles at the sound of his crisp laugh, "I'm taking you to dinner tomorrow."

"Just the two of us?" You naively ask.

"No," he answers, "A director of a gallery invited me to their dinner party."

"Oh. How nice!" You hope he can't hear the fake enthusiasm in your voice.

"Also, I have something to tell you," he says.

"You can't tell me now?" You're not in the mood to play along anymore.

"I have to tell you in person," he replies.

"Okay," you get used to setting your expectations low for him and you keep it that way.

"It's something good," he assures you.

"I hope so," you reply.

He thinks you're being playful and chuckles at it, "I'll pick you up tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Stay warm and take care."

"Better be something I haven't seen before as well," you give in to the temptation of teasing him.

"Okay," he playfully copies you.

The next day, you start dressing for the dinner party, wearing a dress you borrowed from Rina while she's busy packing to go home for winter break.

"Want me to help you with your hair?" She offers.

"No, I can't make you miss your flight," you kindly refuse.

You don't put too much makeup on and brush your hair, securing it with bobby pins to keep it neat.

"My taxi is here!" Rina announces.

You run out of your room to bid her bye, "Sorry I can't help you with your suitcases!"

She hugs you but not too tight to not wrinkle the dress, "It's okay. I'll just roll them down the stairs."

You're watching from the window as she waves at you before getting into the taxi. You get back to getting ready, putting your stuff into your purse and Seungmin rings the doorbell right on time.

"Whoa!" He exclaims the second he sees you.

"Come in. I just need to put my shoes on," you inform.

"Wait, wait," he stops you from walking away and pulls you close, leaning in to kiss you.

With your hand on his chest, you gently push him away and say, "We're going to be late."

He ignores your words and kisses you, forcing you to lower your guard down to let himself in again. His kiss heals but also breaks, nothing in between.

"God, I miss you so much," he sighs as he pulls away from the kiss.

You smile at his words and drop your hands to the side, "I still have to get my shoes."

Relentless, he pecks your lips before letting you go. You get a pair of Rina's black heels to match your dress and put them on with one hand against the wall.

"Where's your roommate?" Seungmin asks.

"She's going home for the winter break," you answer and go to your bedroom to retrieve your purse.

"So, you'll be alone in here?"

"Why? Does it give you ideas?" You tease.

"A lot of ideas," he shortly replies and does not hesitate to kiss you again.

The make-out session you had on your couch is what caused you both to be late for the dinner party. You fix your make-up on the car ride and thankfully, they're in the middle of an appetizer when you arrive.

Seungmin introduces you to the one who invited him, "This is Kayla, the director of Rostam Gallery."

"Oh?" You exclaim a little too excitedly. This is the Kayla he met that night Seungmin was supposed to come with you to Professor Lim's gathering.

"It's nice to meet you and thank you for letting me join in," you tell her as you shake her hand.

"The more the merrier," she says, then leads you to the dining room where the other guests have seated around the big round table.

Seungmin gentlemanly pulls the chair for you and takes the seat next to you after, the waiters immediately serve appetizers for both of you even though everyone else is almost finished with theirs.

The lady sitting next to you keeps making remarks about the china and you eventually find out that she's a ceramic artist. You engage in a conversation with her while the rest of the guests are in a heated discussion about some post-modern art pieces.

Seungmin checks on you every once in a while to make sure you feel comfortable, he holds your hand under the table and smiles as he asks, "Okay?

You dab your mouth with a napkin and answer, "The food is delicious. Can't complain!"

The guy sitting next to him leaning forward on the table to take a good look at you, "Seungmin, are you keeping this beautiful lady away from me on purpose?" He says.

You politely smile at him and Seungmin leans back on his chair to introduce you to him, "This is Jim, a journalist."

Jim offers his hand for a handshake and you briefly shake it as you introduce yourself.

"She's my girlfriend," Seungmin adds at the end of the introduction.

Jim seems to be surprised hearing that and smiles at you, "You got yourself uh... a beautiful girlfriend, Seungmin!" He says in a mix of awe and shock.

Seungmin glances at you and smiles, "I know," he confidently responds.

The conversation at the table has changed into great works of Spanish artists and Seungmin is intently listening to everyone talking about it so passionately that he is not aware of his phone buzzing inside the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

You lean in close to let him know, "Seungmin, your phone is ringing."

He reaches inside to check his phone and decides to excuse himself to take the call. The waiter is done serving the dessert and you take your fork to start digging into the decadent-looking chocolate cake.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Jim says, leaning into Seungmin's seat.

You refrain from eating and put the fork down, "Sorry for what?"

"I didn't know that you're Seungmin's girlfriend," he answers.

It gives you the impression that Seungmin's way of dating is public knowledge. All these times, these people think that you're just one of Seungmin's "girl-friend" and not his actual girlfriend whom he's dating.

You manage to put on a smile and say, "That's alright."

"Oh, you must be happy about Seungmin," he shares without context.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, he hasn't told you about the exhibition he's going to hold abroad?"

You slightly shake your head, "No."

"When is the exhibition?" You hesitantly ask.

"Next month," Jim shortly answers.

That means Seungmin is going abroad for it and he doesn't tell you about it. It's embarrassing that he declares you as his girlfriend but you get to hear about him from someone else.

Seungmin returns to his seat at the right time but he seems to acknowledge the chat you had with him, "Jim, you're not trying to steal her from me, right?"

Jim snorts in response, "As if I had the chance against you!"

You return to your dessert and dig your fork at it, cutting a piece of it on the beautiful china. Before you take it into your mouth, you look around at the people sitting on the dining table and think that they're right, you're only his plus-one and nothing more.

As everyone getting too drunk from wine and the night is getting late, Seungmin decides that it's time to leave. You leave for the bathroom and come back to him talking to a girl who's sitting next to Jim. They look rather friendly and she kisses both of his cheeks before she goes back to the dining room.

Seungmin smiles when he notices you're coming his way, he has your coat and purse in his hand.

"Ready to go home?" He holds the coat and puts it on for you, fixing your hair afterward.

You grab the purse from him as you mutter your gratitude, "Yes."

The constant hum of the car heater is what you can hear on the whole car ride as you stare out the window with your head filled with so many thoughts you can't pick one and try to assess it.

Seungmin squeezes your hand and makes you turn your head at him, "You're so quiet."

You thinly smile and think of something to say, "Don't you say you have something you want to tell me?"

He quickly glances at you before looking straight ahead, "Yeah, but I'll tell you once we get home."

"Is it about the exhibition?" You don't mean to spoil it from him but you feel sick the longer you hold it to yourself.

He looks rather surprised that you know about it, "Yes and there's another thing," he says.

"That you will be leaving the country for it?"

He awkwardly smiles, "Yes, but—"

"How did you do it?" You cut him off.

"How did I do what?" He asks in confusion.

There's no going back once you let everything out of your chest but this is it, you're done trying to control your feelings when it's your right to feel angry about what he's doing to you.

You turn on your seat to face him and ask, "How did you kiss some other girls and not feel guilty about it?"

Seungmin decides to pull the car to the side of the road and stops the engine. He looks at you and asks again, "What is it? What is wrong?"

You're tired of swallowing things down and trying to understand when he doesn't even try to do the same for you, "I kissed another guy the other night," you confess.

"And I feel horrible... I feel so bad about it because it feels like I'm cheating on you," you croak with tears getting in between the words.

You shut your eyes tight for a moment to fight the tears from coming out of you but it's a fruitless effort, "What I'm asking is how did you do it? Kissing other girls and not feeling like you betrayed me?"

Seungmin's mouth is agape but no words coming out of it. There's only a sigh and eyes that stare back into your glassy eyes.

"How did you do it?" You raise your voice that it's echoing in the small space of his car. Even with your eyes blurry with tears, you can see that he has no answer to your question.

"You don't even seem to be mad about me kissing another guy."

Tears won't stop coming down your face and you feel a lump blocking you from talking.

You take a deep breath but all it does is make you feel aches inside, "Am I really your girlfriend? Do I mean something to you?"

For the first time in your life, you don't want to know the answer. You unclasp your safety belt, grab your purse, and get out of the car. The cold slaps you in the face with the harsh cold air and you hurriedly hailing your hand to get a taxi, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

From your peripheral vision, you see Seungmin getting out of the car and is about to walk up to you when a taxi stops right in front of you. You immediately get yourself inside and tell the driver to drive, leaving a trail of pieces of broken your heart as you go.

-

You find yourself in front of Minho's apartment an hour later.

It's unclear why you decided to come here but deep down, you know why. It's been days since you both kissed and you haven't said anything to him about it.

Minho probably thinks you hate him or that the kiss was a wrong move on his part when the truth is... the kiss is what you needed to take you back into reality. You knock on his door and wait in anticipation, afraid that he's already leaving for the holidays. After a while, you hear footsteps and someone unlocks the door.

Minho opens the door just enough to show himself and he looks surprised to see you. You're not aware of how miserable you must have looked with your ruined makeup and red, puffy eyes.

"The kiss was right," you tell him before losing yourself in the sadness again.

He opens the door wider to let you in, "Hey, why don't you come—"

"The kiss was nice, the kiss was everything I hoped for and I realize that I do like you, Minho," you admit with a voice that quivers from the cold.

You lick your lips and look at him, "But I also hate it. The kiss... the kiss made me realize that I... I deserve better."

The lump in your throat appears again and it turns into a hot coal as you resist letting yourself cry again.

"That I deserve someone who treats me right, special... someone who doesn't make me feel insecure all the time, someone better, someone..."

Fresh tears roll down your cheeks again and it feels hot on your cheeks after walking a block in the cold.

"Someone like you," you finish your sentence.

You look at him against the hot tears that can't stop pooling in your eyes no matter how much you wipe them with the back of your hands, "But it feels like my heart is no longer a part of my body, I can't–I can't control it, Minho," you say in a frustrated tone.

You close your eyes because what you're about you say next is painful to admit, "I can't stop it. My heart wants him."

You break into sobs the moment Minho pulls you into his hug.

From hundreds of books you've read in your life, it's impossible to find the answers to this: If the heart is no longer part of your body then how can you still feel it aches inside your chest?

-

Seungmin knows that one night is enough time and space he gave you. He knows that if he lets it on too long, he'll lose you and he doesn't want that.

He hits the speed limit as he rides his bike to go to your place and knock on your door only to be answered by disappointment. He calls your phone but you don't pick up, he tries knocking on the door only to get disappointed again.

As a last effort, he hits the call button again and leans against the door of your apartment. He turns around and sees someone he knows, he has seen him with you before.

"You're her friend, aren't you?" Seungmin confidently guesses.

Minho stops at the top of the stairs and stays there, "Yes."

"She's not home. Do you have any ideas where she might be?" Seungmin asks, taking a step closer to him.

Even in this proximity, Seungmin can tell that he knows the answer but he can't decide whether to tell him or not.

"I'm not sure," Minho answers and he turns around to walk down the stairs.

It seems that he decided to do the third option and that is lying about his answer. Seungmin follows him down the stairs and tries to get an answer from him.

"I know that you know," Seungmin says from behind him.

"You're her boyfriend. You should know," Minho nonchalantly says while keeps walking down the stairs with hands shoved inside his coat pockets.

Seungmin sighs to calm himself down but asking him kindly is not working, so he tries another way, "And I know you're the guy she kissed."

Minho lands on the base of the stairs, takes another step, and turns around on his feet, "So? What are you going to do about it?"

Seungmin hates this brazen, flippant attitude and if there's one good thing about it, he knows that he is just a passing fancy for you.

"Nothing," he simply answers Minho's question.

Seungmin walks the rest of the steps and stops right in front of him, "Because I know she likes me better than you!"

Minho tilts his head to meet his stare and laughs, he licks his lips before talking right into his face, "But I treat her better than you."

That gets on Seungmin's nerves that he grabs fistfuls of Minho's sweater and pulls him close, "You know nothing. Your words mean nothing to me. Just tell me where she is!"

Minho takes his hands and puts them away from him, "You don't deserve her. Why would I tell you where she is so you can break her heart again and again?" He raises his voice louder than him.

The first one, he let it go but this is his second strike and he makes the third strike when Minho decides to leave him behind. Seungmin just can't allow this anymore, he chases him outside and pulls him by his coat.

In the next second, it turns into a childish fight of pushing and shoving each other, making a scene that the passerby can't ignore anymore. Minho lets go first and takes a few steps back away from Seungmin.

"If you want to play around and date as many girls as you want, just let her go! You don't deserve her!" Minho shouts at him.

Seungmin is going at him but a stranger holding him back by his arms, "You know nothing!"

Minho yanks his arms away from the people who broke away from their fight and comes up at Seungmin, "I know everything! She went to my place last night and told me everything!"

Minho lowers his voice to not let people hear what he's saying, "You know what? She's right about everything. You didn't even mad about me kissing her."

Seungmin's heart drops that Minho indeed knows about everything. He feels it now, the betrayal. This is how you must've felt last night.

"And you're about to leave her too, right? You're going out of the country, running away from commitment like you always do," Minho says with a snide smile.

"Fuck you!" Seungmin curses out of anger, "I'm not running away from her."

People are coming to break the fight again but Seungmin tells them to stay back. He calms himself down by taking a deep breath and looks at Minho again, "I'm taking her with me and I was about to ask her if she wants to go with me when she suddenly admitted to kissing you!"

Minho looks away and lets out a snarky laugh, "You think a vacation will fix everything?"

"No," Seungmin answers while daringly looking into his eyes, "but I planned on telling her that I'm ready to commit to her."

The smirk on Minho's face gradually fades and his jaws clenched, probably holding in the urge to go at him. But he knows he has no right to prevent him from seeing you.

Minho goes for his bike parked next to the bench and Seungmin hopelessly follows him, "So, please, tell me where I can find her!"

Minho unlocks his bike and walks it to the side of the road, he turns to look at him and considers whether to tell him or not.

-

It's like someone has punctured your lungs, no matter how much you breathe, you keep losing air. If anything, you find it hard to breathe.

You look down at the ducks swimming on the pond, munching on the pieces of bread you throw onto the pond and it's floating on the surface of water.

You feel jealous at how easy things are for them, they only have to follow the natural law of finding their mates and procreate. No rules, no games, no tricks, no complications, no heartache. It's as simple as that.

You throw the plastic bag into the trash bin and think of taking a walk around the park before heading back home. It's cold for a walk but it's better than wallowing things in your room, all alone.

White steam escapes your mouth as you let out a sigh and rub your hands together to keep them warm when you feel a hand grab you by the shoulder.

You look over your shoulder and see the last person you want to see, Seungmin.

"Why are you out in this cold?" He asks, taking his gloves off so he can put them on you.

You take your hands away and sadly tell him "It's too late for that, Seungmin."

He ignores your words and slips his glove into your hand, "I'll always care for you."

"And for other girls too, apparently," you add.

Seungmin holds your gloved hands in his and waits until you look him in the eyes before speaking, it takes a minute until you eventually trapped yourself in his gaze.

"You didn't let me talk last night," he says.

"That won't change a thing. I'll never understand you, what you want..." you tell him.

This time, you put on a tough face and even tougher heart, you have cried enough for him. You refuse to cry again for him.

"I'm not a stop along the way, Seungmin. I'm a destination. I want you for me and me only but if you want to keep going and see where it takes you, then I beg you to please let me go," you rest your case with a steadfast heart.

"You either stay or leave and I'm afraid this is your only chance to decide," you give him the ultimatum and turn the table back to him.

It feels lighter now that you have let everything out of you and both decisions would cost you pain but it's worth knowing the answer to this.

"Can I talk now?" Seungmin asks and you must admit that he puts on a different kind of serious expression than the one he makes whenever he's making coffee.

It's only fair that you listen to what he needs to say, so you nod and let him talk.

"Last night, I was going to tell you about the exhibition and that I'll be leaving soon to prepare it," he begins.

He fiercely looks into your eyes as he steadily holds your hands, "then you left before I got the chance to say about the things I really wanted to tell you."

You swallow air and feel a pang of guilt inside you. You did act selfishly last night, you can see it now after he pointed it out to you.

Seungmin takes something from the inner pocket of his leather jacket, flight tickets, two of them. He shows it to you and smiles, "I was about to ask you if you want to go with me."

He inhales air before continuing to talk, "I'll be working most of the time but I think of us spending Christmas and New Year together..." he pauses to sniff from the cold air, "And I can't think of spending it with anyone else but you."

He pits the tickets back into his leather jacket pocket and shifts his focus back on you again, "I know you must have been so confused with this open relationship thing but if you give me more time, I know I'll be more certain with my feelings."

He squeezes your hands to emphasize how much he means his words, "Give me one more chance to prove it to you, to show you that I want to stay."

It's so hard with his eyes softly gazing into your eyes and they're warm and earnest, he's so open and honest with you. But you can't find the answer in him, you have to look into your heart and ask it if it's still what it wants.

There's only one way to find out.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, with pleasure," Seungmin replies with an enthusiastic smile.

You take a step closer and close the gap of your bodies. You lean in and kiss him, letting yourself immerse in it to get what you want.

This time, the kiss will neither heal nor break you. This time, the kiss will tell you the answer.

-

The last time Minho saw you, you were putting in your suitcase into the trunk of a taxi and that was when he told himself that it was time to wave the white flag.

Frankly, he admitted defeat when he told Seungmin where to find you, that you must be feeding the ducks by the pond and it seemed to be leading you to agree on going away with Seungmin for the holidays.

It's what your heart wants and Minho only helped you get it.

There's a week left in winter break but snow has just started piling on the pavement he walks on. Minho wraps himself in layers of clothes and shields himself from the cold by hugging himself while listening to the crunch of the snow as he steps on it.

The plan is to return some books he borrowed over the holidays and let the librarian lady take care of them as he browses for more books to borrow.

Something tells him that he needs to check somewhere where he knows that he'll only meet disappointment. Yet he follows his heart and lets it take him to where you usually would be.

Minho almost laughs because of how vivid the imagery is. He sees you there, sitting on the big window sill with your feet pulled up and your breath fogging the glass.

Wait... does Minho see what he wants to see or is it real? Either way, he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him so he refuses to believe, turning around on his heels.

The sound of your voice calling his name shatters his doubts, "Minho?"

It takes him a moment to get himself together and turns around to answer your call, "Yes?"

Now that he sees your smile and it's aimed toward him, he no longer thinks his eyes are playing tricks. It is what it is, it's you, right there and he's walking towards that smile.

"I thought you're still on holiday," You say and hold your book close to your chest with your hand covering the front of the book, he can't see the title.

It should be him asking that question. Shouldn't you be in another country and spend the rest of the winter break with your boyfriend?

"You know me. I like seeing books more than seeing my family," he half-heartedly says with a sheepish smile.

"Roasting yourself, huh? That's new," you say with a low laugh.

The view outside the window of tree branches covered in the show makes a picturesque background as you put your feet down the window sill but all he sees is you.

"I haven't had breakfast," you suddenly share.

"Why not?" He asks back.

"I have nothing in my fridge so I only had coffee," you answer while looking up with eyes that shine for him, "Do you have anything in your fridge I can eat?"

It takes no genius that you're asking him to cook breakfast for you but it would be stupid of him to pass the chance.

"No," Minho answers, then hoists the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder, "But I can cook them for you."

-

It's almost noon to be considered a breakfast so Minho cooks lunch for two while you're playing with his cats on the carpeted floor.

"I'm fun when I'm sober, right?" You coo at the eldest of his three cats, softly scratching her belly with your fingers.

He silently watches from the kitchen as he prepares the table smiling without him realizing it. He snaps himself out of it and announces, "Lunch is ready!"

You get up from the floor and dash to the sink to wash your hands, pulling a chair from the dining table and sitting on it. You take a whiff of the steaming bowl of soup Minho cooked and hum in delight, "Whoa. Smells so good!"

Minho sits on his chair after getting a pitcher of water to the table and he sees that you're waiting for him to start eating, "Aren't you hungry?"

"Thank you for the food!" You say in gratitude and with that being said, you pick up your spoon to start eating.

Maybe it's the cold weather, maybe it's the hot soup that he's eating, but Minho feels warm, inside and out. He believes it's mostly because he's enjoying the company he's with who's heartily eating the food he cooked.

"I ate too much pie and cookies at Rina's," you share out of the blue.

"Rina's?" He asks with a puzzled look on his face.

You nod and put down your spoon to drink your water, "Where did you think I spent the holidays?"

That gets him thinking for a moment. What answer should he give you? An honest one where he thought you went away with your boyfriend and possibly admits that he got a little heartbroken about it or play it cool like he usually does?

"I saw you leaving with your suitcase so I thought..." he skips on finishing his sentence.

"Ah..." you take another sip of your water and put the glass down.

"Well, that was me going to the airport to crash Rina's family's Christmas," you sheepishly answer.

Minho doesn't know how to say it without getting his hopes up yet he dares himself to ask, "You didn't go with him?"

Your eyes are nowhere looking at him but he sees a sad, profound smile on your face, then you shake your head, "He may be what my heart wants but he's not what I need."

In that moment, something is filling his chest, something warm, something that makes him feel like he can finally breathe again. Minho is hopeful once again.

"For the record, I offered to help with the dishes," you tell him, placing a mug of coffee you made for him on the kitchen counter.

Minho dries his hands with a cloth before leaning against the kitchen counter next to you and sipping his coffee, watching his cat lying under the hazy sunlight coming through the window.

He steals glances at you and hesitates to ask how you're feeling about your unexpected decision, "How are you doing?"

You inhale the air before answering, "I'm doing better than I expected actually."

Minho doesn't even think about how things will be going from here but hearing that you're doing fine puts him at ease. He has so many things to say but it's wise for him to not rush things, he's certain that you still need time.

You turn your head to look at him and say, "I've just finished reading something this week and it surprised me how much I enjoyed it."

You have one hand on your chest while the other holding your coffee mug, "It's a play and there's this line that deeply resonates with me."

The way you stare into his eyes enchants him to stare back into yours, there's a space between your bodies but looking eyes to eyes like this makes him feel closer to you in a sense.

"It says... 'If ever my life can be of any use to you, come and claim it.'."

Minho recognizes the lines right away. It's from one of his favorite writers. He gets flustered and smiles, "You read Russian literature now, huh?"

"Yeah, guess I'll be as boring as you now," You softly laugh and put down your mug on the counter next to him.

"I think it's my time to leave," you put your hands on the edge of the counter and accidentally nudged him.

Minho doesn't want to let you go again so he holds you by the fingers and looks into your eyes. His mouth gets ahead of his brain when he blurts out, "Stay."

He holds more of your hand in his and brings himself closer to you. With eyes that look deeper into your eyes and a heart that knows what it wants, Minho says, "I want you to stay."

He sees the doubt and fears in your eyes, he would understand if you chose to leave, and for once in his life, it's okay for him to lose to you.

To his surprise, you hold his hand back and say, "Well, why don't you come and claim it?"

If Minho knew that all he had to do was to come and claim it, he would have done it sooner. But right now is not too late so he closes the gap between your bodies and puts his hand on the side of your face.

With such love, he cups your cheek and swipes his thumb across your lips which he dreamed of kissing a million times, asleep or awake. This is not a dream yet you still feel like one.

The moment your lips meet again, it thaws his heart and his worried mind. He pulls you close and puts his heart closer to yours, two hearts beating as one with mere flesh and bones in between.

You are of words that create a poem and the sentiment it has between the lines, you are the allusion in his written life in which Minho has now come and claimed.

-

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[janaknandini-singh999]

Meera Ke Prabhu Girdhar Naagar

Krishna looked on

As he had looked on when she had been given poison which turned to nectar when she offered it to him

As he had looked on when snakes were thrown at her but again she offered it to him like flowers and it turned into a garland

It was just his murti that looked on

But for Meera it was really him

How else would she be saved from death's grasp every time if it wasn't Krishna himself looking out for her?

She sang to him as she always did but tonight there was a sad undertone

She had had enough

Despite being the queen, she was constantly harassed by her devar

She remininsced about her husband who she respected. He let her do her duties and then spend the rest of the time in the temple of the Mahal with her beloved Krishna. But after his death, she was being tormented by his brother.

She folded her hands to Krishna's murti and then at the jauhar kund where her mother in law, the late Maharani, had done jauhar with thousands of other women when Akbar had attacked Chittorgarh

"Mother, not everyone can do what you did. Not even me. You held on to your honour till your very last breath. But jauhar is done by those when the invaders close in with their egos. What about those who are attacked by their own family? There is no such pratha that can save them. My husband, your son, was a benevolent king. But your other son.. If I commit Jauhar my image will be tarnished forever because there are no invaders. Jauhar is done by those who have no other hope, mother. But I have one." she turned to look at her Krishna with teary eyes

"The only element I'd let myself to be consumed by is him. My only hope since birth, to death, is him."

"Maharani" a daasi entered the temple and curtsied "I apologize for interrupting your prayers."

Meera didn't turn around but she closed her eyes and nodded as the tears rolled down

"Your highness, you really need to leave. He is on his way back to the palace. I can't see you-" she stopped herself as she was about to mention Meera's bruises and scars caused by her brother in law's abuse

It was a wonder indeed because when the daasi had seen them for the first time and pointed it out Meera had calmly replied that she didn't feel a thing because she was thinking of Krishna

"Why does your Krishna allow so much pain in your life?" the daasi's voice cracked on seeing her queen like this so she looked away

"No. Not a word against him. I would've been long dead if it weren't for him." Meera put a hand on her shoulder and smiled

"You should ask him to hold you with him forever, away from it all"

"Maharani!" A soldier came huffing and curtsied rigidly "Sincere apologies but they're on the horsebacks and can arrive any moment now."

Meera stood up hurriedly and collected her pooja samagri, dashing. But just at the gate, she stopped

"Does running away make me a coward?" She whispered

"No, maharani. You are going to your lord." the daasi said

"No no no wait! What about YOU ALL?" Meera's voice rose and suddenly an arrow whizzed past them

"DON'T worry about us, Maharani! Just GO PLEASE AAPKO SHRI KRISHN KI SAUGANDH!"

The soldier winced in pain as an arrow was shot again which lodged itself in his arm.

The daasi almost shrieked but carried him over and dragged him outside.

Meera saw a lover's spark between the two and despite the situation she smiled. She silently prayed to Krishna for their protection

And then she ran

She ran and ran and ran throughout the villages, the jungles, her feet and knees getting scraped, she went on for days without food or water and she ran

"I'm waiting, sakhi" a voice breathed in her ear

Finally she reached Dwarka and broke down at Dwarkadheesh's feet

A few days were spent in bliss as she became the poet she was meant to be

But not for long because they followed her even there

The time had come

She took a last, long breath in front of the murti

And closing her eyes, she folded her hands

"Swami. The world has never understood me. It has only given me agony until I met you. The only love I've ever felt is when I've thought of you. So I did. Until you became every thought of mine, written on every breath of mine. The only thing I've ever longed for is to be associated with you for as long as the kaal chakra goes on, my name be taken in the same breath as your name. But who am I? I'm not your lover who you'd playfully burst the maakhan matki of, I'm not your wife who you'd immediately, fiercely, desperately ride on your chariot to rescue. I'm not even a devotee like Hanuman ji who had the opportunity to be alive in the same yug to serve his God. Who am I to be yours? But where else am I to go? I can't survive in any place which isn't your heart.

The world has come to get me again so I come to you. And I won't breathe until I reach you"

She started walking to the murti, holding her hands out as alms

The tyrants were upon her now but suddenly they were dazzled by a bright light

And then a divine hand extended out to her, he smiled with tears streaming all the way as Meera immersed herself completely in Krishna

The light vanished. They opened their eyes again and were baffled to see Meera gone.

Except her dupatta that swayed peacefully from the side of the murti

Centuries later

"Mother! Whose is that?" a small voice pointed excitedly

The woman looked on and recognized Meerabai's dupatta

"The legendary poet bhakt of Krishna, child. Her name was Meerabai."

"Was she married to him?" curiosity sparked in her eyes

The woman thought for a bit. It wouldn't be that simple to explain to her little daughter the leelas of Shri Krishna with his many wives and lovers.

The girl looked at the murti now "Did they both love each other?"

"Yes" the woman answered, smiling

"Of course" her daughter nodded, completely satisfied "Just look at him! Who wouldn't fall in love with him?" as she laughed and swooned, swinging around a nearby pillar as Meerabai's dupatta swayed higher and touched the little girl's head

Meanwhile, Krishna grinned at the whole scene as Meera joined her, laying her head on his lap as she whispered

"It feels like I've waited for you since forever."

"I know, love. And I have, too. But I've been with you all the way. It broke my heart to see what they did to you." He kissed her forehead

"You are safe now" As he held on tight to her for eternity

Not just two lovers, but the union of two forms that go back to the same source to begin with. The river finally meeting the sea, the rain kissing the soil, incense embracing the ambience and far away just a besotted finally flying to the muse

Meera uniting with Krishna

[ezralovrr]

STOP ATTACKING ME! - A short Helluva Boss OC Drabble

Yeah I’m not gonna lie.. I don’t really like Stolas, I’m sorry. His whiny attitude about how Blitzo doesn’t love him is honestly really annoying. So here’s my frustrations being put into a small story!

(Also this basically serves as an origin story to Raya’s rivalry with Stolas.)

Stolas likers, I’m sorry in advance. This one isn’t for you.

.

.

.

.

The Goetia palace was lavishing as ever this evening; the crystal chandeliers sparkled in the evening light, the constellations painted on the ceiling seemed to glow, and the polished marble floor reflected the silhouettes of the avian royalty of Hell.

While Stella flounced about on the ballroom floor and squawked to her peacock acquaintances about her stupid husband, the owl prince Stolas stood 10 feet away from her, meekly sipping on some rich wine. “Witch.” He hissed under his breath. He was dressed in his bathrobes, as he couldn’t bother to get into his more formal attire. It’s not like anyone would care, anyways. Pity, pity, pity…

Andrealphus gave his brother-in-law a snide glare as he strode over to his cackling sister, who was loudly singing about what foolish things her husband had said this week. She did like to torment him, so this was nothing new to the owl prince.

Stolas huffed and ruffled his feathers, a look of sadness creeping up on his beak. If only his “star-crossed” lower-class lover Blitzo could whisk him away from the “Still Not Divorced” party, leaving his teenage daughter Octavia to sit awkwardly with her mother…

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard someone yelling mildly as they struggled to climb over the balcony rail. Stolas’s ruby eyes lit up, and he dashed over to the balcony he was standing next to, grabbing the arm to pull his lover up to the pala-

It was a human.

“Oh.” Stolas sighed. Regardless, he helped her up and into the palace, as he didn’t wish to be rude. “My apologies. I thought you were someone else.” He briskly turned to an imp waiter, trying to offer the woman something to drink or nibble on. She refused politely, though by the look on her face, she wanted to discuss something with the prince.

“It’s alright. I actually wanted to ask you about something regarding your.. affair.” The words “affair” seemed to haunt Stolas. Affair was far from what could be described about his loving, totally sincere relationship with Blitzo. “…Right then. Please, pray tell, what do you wish to query me?” Stolas adjusted his bathrobe to appear decent.

“Why do you still chase after that imp?” She shot him a subtle yet icy cold glare. Stolas felt his heart quake. “…What- What is your name..?” He asked the human. She gasped lightly and adjusted her corn-colored hair. “Raya. Why do you wish to know?” She tilted her head up at the prince. “I- …With all due respect, miss Raya… I genuinely feel a strong, warm connection to that little imp.” Stolas stared off into space as a sick warmth spread to his beak.

Raya clenched her teeth, clearly annoyed he was trying to change the subject. As he started to ramble on and on, she felt slightly agitated and wanted to square the conversation back. “No- no, you’re not listening to me, your highness.” She spoke out, causing the owl to hoot slightly and shut his beak in mild shock.

“…Like I said, you’re chasing after someone who isn’t interested in you. You deliberately harass the poor man, exploiting him for your pleasure and to keep his business afloat, and even prioritizing him over your daughter not once, but twice. You flaunted your first affair to your wife. And I get that she’s awful, but it doesn’t give you an excuse to do so. You spend all your time wailing and waiting for your imp prince to rescue you from the wicked witch, but you’re just living a fantasy. A sick fantasy in which you leave your daughter alone as feared. And no amount of coddling could change that, which is why you need to take the first step and accept that Blitz. Doesn’t. Love you.” Raya went on a long-winded rant, essentially calling out the Goetia prince for his attitude and actions.

Stolas was horrified, his legs were shaking like a great earthquake, his heart heavily beating as sweat trickled down his beak. It was true, but he didn’t want to accept it. He hated confrontation, he hated owning up to his mistakes and recognizing his flaws. And then, right before she could deliver the verdict…

“STOP! STOP IT, PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU! PLEASE, STOP IT!” Like a child, the owl prince screeched and stumbled back, crocodile tears streaming down his face as he made a scene. “No- wait- I- I didn’t mean to. Your royal highness, I apologize. Please, just breathe and think rationally for a second…!” Raya lightly raised her hand to soothe the prince.

“WITCH! SHE’S RAISING HER HAND AGAINST ME! SOMEONE, PLEASE TAKE HER AWAY!” Stolas cried out, dark blue feathers slightly falling from his body.

The orchestra paused as the royal avians turned to the scene. Andrealphus raised an eyebrow, mildly confused at the behavior of his brother-in-law. Stella, however, had a wicked, almost proud grin on her face. Two hellhounds grabbed Raya by the forearms while she was distracted from attempting to ease the prince.

“Ma’am, it’s nothing personal. We’d like for you to leave the premises at once.” One of them barked at her. “No, wait-! I’m not done! Octavia! Princess! Please just know that my door’s open if you wish to have a safe space!!” Raya called to the Goetia princess as she was dragged out of the ballroom. Octavia, while mildly confused, as put at ease as she went to go comfort her tantrum-throwing father.

Raya was tossed outside of the Goetia palace, and she hit the pavement upon impact. “Respectfully, you are disallowed from entering this palace again.” The other hellhound affirmed her as they shut the doors. “Damn it all…” Raya sighed and picked herself up. She shivered slightly, mildly irritated that her confrontational approach didn’t work out in the end.

Just before she was about to leave, the door opened and closed quickly. Raya turned around, finding a prideful Stella exiting the palace. “Well done. Really, darling, well done!” She slowly applauded the human. “What?” Raya mouthed to no one in particular.

“You really took the words out of my mouth. Although I’m still mildly disgusted that the imp-sucking excuse of my husband is being coddled right now back upstairs… you really said some things I wanted to hear for a long time.” Stella smiled lightly, offering a hand for the human to shake. Raya stared down at her hand, then pulled her lavender cardigan sleeve a bit over her palm before accepting the handshake.

“I’m… honored, I guess.” She awkwardly brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. “Well, I must head back to the Still Not Divorced soirée. Just keep in mind though… I admire your bravery.” Stella curtsied lightly before taking her leave and re-entering the palace.

Raya stood there, flabbergasted. Although her mission was unsuccessful, she at least felt satisfied voicing her thoughts on the prince.

.

.

.

.

And that’s the end! I’m gonna be honest, I’m not really keeping up with the show anymore, so I tried to write the characters to the best of my ability.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Love Langauge

There was something about the way that Harry always knelt down to greet Scorpius with a hug that Draco couldn't take. It was too much, too precious, it made him feel like his whole world was narrowed down to just two people, heart too full.

“Daddy told Auntie Pansy that people getting shit done is his love language.” Scorpius informed Harry primly and Draco promptly wished that he could just sink through the floor as Harry’s eyes, twinkling with mischief, found his over his son’s shoulder. He knew he shouldn't have had that floo call with Pansy about work while Scorpius was in the house.

“Did he?” Harry asked, before turning his attention back to Scorpius. “Sounds like acts of service is it for your dad.”

He shook his head, "Scorpius, it's your bedtime."

His 4-year-old turned and pouted at him, "But Harry just got here."

"I know," he said, understanding completely the desire to simply exist in the other man's orbit. "But it's past your bedtime already."

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked Harry, turning his pout on the other man, whom, Draco knew from experience, had no defenses against a pouting Malfoy.

"I would like that very much," Harry said sincerely, looking up at Draco, "if it's alright with your dad."

They didn't do this. Harry didn't stay overnight, he wasn't there in the morning when Scorpius woke up, as far as Scorpius was concerned, they were just friends. He'd been too afraid of his son getting attached, and how it would affect him when (if) Harry left. "Maybe Harry would like to meet us for ice cream at Fortescue's," he replied.

Scorpius spun around to look at him, literally jumping for joy, but Draco didn't miss the way that Harry's face fell before he caught himself.

"That sounds great," he said, smiling at both of them.

"Do you want to give Harry a hug good night?" Draco asked.

Scorpius nodded and Harry knelt down again, wrapping his arms around Scorpius. "Night, buddy," Harry said.

"Night, night, Harry," he replied. "I love you."

"Love you too, bud," he responded easily, and Draco's heart shattered in his chest.

He cleared his throat, "Come on, Scorp," he said softly, "bedtime."

His son's arms wrapped around Harry's shoulders tighter for a moment, then he was off, dashing toward the stairs. "I'm gonna beat you!" he called to Draco over his shoulder.

"Be right there, teeth first," Draco called back. He turned to Harry who was standing from the floor once more, "Hey," he exhaled.

"Hi," Harry replied, smiling at him and leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"I'll be back soon. Sorry that nothing went quite according to plan tonight and he's not down yet."

"It's fine," Harry said, shaking his head, "You don't have to apologize. If you'd wanted an extra set of hands, you could have owled and asked me to come earlier."

"That's not your job," he protested. "Harry, the lines-"

"Daddy!" Scorpius called, mouth sounding full of what Draco suspected was toothpaste.

"Coming!"

"Go," Harry said, nudging him toward the stairs. "I'll be here when you're done."

Draco nodded and turned, leaving everything with Harry until after bedtime. Bedtime was his favorite time of day, stories and singing, quiet reflection, cuddles in the rocker, before tucking his child in for the night and stroking his hair until his was fast asleep.

He lingered for a few extra moments in Scorpius' doorway, watching his son sleeping. He planned the whole speech in his head: Scorpius was the most important person in his life, his world revolved around his child, he wanted Harry but he couldn't put Scorpius' heart in danger. Bad enough to be putting his own heart in such a precarious position, he thought as he closed the door and headed downstairs again.

When he reached the living room, Harry was nowhere to be seen, so he wandered through to the kitchen imagining that Harry might be uncorking the bottle of wine that Draco had seen tucked in his coat pocket.

What he found instead, was Harry standing at the sink, up to his elbows in water as he washed the veritable mountain of dishes that Draco hadn't had the time or energy to take care of. That seemed to be the case with more and more things lately, he just didn't have the capacity to work and be a single parent.

"You don't have to do that," he said, embarrassment flooding his whole body.

Harry glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him, "I don't mind." Before Draco could protest, he continued, "I'm almost done anyway. Do you want to pour us some wine? I picked up that Merlot that you were fond of at that Italian place we ate at last month."

"I can't do this," Draco breathed, feeling like the air had been punched out of him. He stumbled back to lean against the doorway.

"Draco?" Harry said softly, voice full of concern, and Draco looked up to see him drying his hands on the towel as he looked at him.

And Draco wanted to cry. The image of Harry standing there, sleeves rolled up from washing the dishes for him, brows drawn in concern, was burned into his brain. Because this was it. It had to be. "I can't," he managed, shaking his head.

"Can't what?" Harry asked gently, moving a few steps closer but leaving space in between them.

Space that Draco wished he would close, wished that Harry would crowd him into the wall and make him forget everything else.

"Sweetheart," Harry murmured, "tell me?"

"I can't do it," he said and a tear slid down his cheek. "I'm so fucking tired," he added. "I can't be a good dad and run a business when no one is doing what they're supposed to be," he shook his head, "I'm a complete shit boyfriend-"

"You're not-" Harry started to protest.

"I am!" he exploded, throwing his arms in the air. "You're here and you're cleaning my house for me, and you brought me wine that you remembered that I enjoyed a month ago! And what have I-"

"Draco," Harry said, voice very calm as he closed the distance between them and cupped Draco's face in his palms. "Take a breath, love."

He shook his head, hot tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, pressing kisses to Draco's forehead, his nose, his cheeks.

"I don't have anything to give you," he said, closing his eyes so he didn't have to watch the realization of that truth dawn on Harry's face.

"You are not what you do," Harry said softly. "Your value as a person isn't defined by what you give."

"But I can't give you anything."

"That isn't even true," Harry argued, pulling Draco into his arms. "Choosing to spend your free time with me when you could be doing a thousand other things is a gift. You give me your affection. You make me laugh, and you tease me, and you listen to me rant about my day. You open your home to me, your bed to me," he added softly, voice wrapping around Draco's fragile, bleeding heart. "You give me yourself, you let me see you, let me touch you, and hold you. You accept me in return. Circe, Draco, what more could I even ask for?"

"Harry," he whispered, wanting so badly to believe him.

"Your love language may be acts of service," he said, laughing a little and Draco huffed and rolled his eyes, "but mine isn't. Mine's quality time," he added. "And your secondary love language might be gifts, but my second is physical touch. We aren't the same," he said. "And that's a good thing," he added.

He gave in and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, dropping his head to his boyfriend's shoulder. "I'm afraid," he whispered.

"Of what?" Harry asked, letting his hands slide up and down his back.

"Of getting in too deep," he said. "That I'm going to fall for you completely and I won't be able to recover when you leave."

Harry hummed and kissed his temple, "Who says I'm going to leave?"

"It's hard to imagine that you want to stay when I'm such a mess, when I'm too afraid of you leaving to let you spend the night, when-"

"Draco," he tried to interrupt, squeezing him.

"-when I am constantly pushing you away," he finished.

Harry was quiet for a minute, then he said, "you aren't really pushing, you know." He let his fingers tangle in Draco's hair, "I hear what you're saying, but I'm not going anywhere, Draco. You can push and I won't leave."

He laughed, short and bitter, "You say that now but you haven't seen me at my worst."

Harry laughed at that, "I think we both know that's not true." He pulled back, "Sorry, but pretty much nothing you can do now will compare to the time you smashed my nose with the heel of your boot and left me under my invisibility cloak. And," he added, "there's not really much that I can do that would be worse than literally cutting you apart with my magic-"

"Because I was trying to crucio you," he inserted.

He shook his head, and pressed their foreheads together, "If you want me to leave, now or ever, you will have to say the actual words. I won't read those words in your actions or in your other words. You pushing right now actually just feels like you're trying to love me, so," he shrugged. "I'm pretty stubborn." He nudged Draco's nose with his, "I'm here for good."

"Do you promise?" Draco breathed before he could stop himself.

Harry pulled back, just far enough that he could look Draco in the eyes. He reached up and tucked Draco's hair behind his ear, "I love you," he said softly. "We've been together for over a year," he said, "but Draco, I've loved you for so much longer. I fell in love with you over pub nights, and consults for work, and watching you with your child," he shook his head. "You're amazing and I don't want to go anywhere." He cupped Draco's face in his palm, stroking his thumb over Draco's cheek, "I promise, love. I'm in this."

He exhaled, closed his eyes, and tried to let himself believe that, believe that he got to keep this.

"Draco," he said softly, "I," he swallowed, "I want to give you stability, whatever I can to show you that I mean it. I've wanted to ask you if you wanted to move in together," he said, sounding nervous. "But it seems presumptuous since me moving in with you makes the most sense logistically. And I've wanted to ask if you wanted to get married, but I know you've said-"

"You want to marry me?" he interrupted, eyes flying open to search Harry's face.

He nodded, earnest and dear, "Of course I do. I just," he shrugged, "you said marriage was the worst thing that ever happened to you and that Scorp was the only good thing-"

"Stop," he said, kissing Harry because he couldn't quite help himself. "Harry, I meant political marriages," he kissed him again because this felt like a proposal, like a huge declaration. "My marriage to Astoria where she just fucked off after she got her inheritance that had been contingent on having an heir, that marriage was shit. And I wouldn't trade Scorp, but I wanted a partner-" he broke off.

"Draco, I-" he broke off, shaking his head, "I want to be your partner, I would do anything for him, I would be anything-"

"Harry," he breathed because this couldn't be real, this couldn’t be happening.

Harry shook his head, "I know that I can't just jump in and be his dad, but Draco I love him so much, I would do anything."

He stared at Harry for a long moment before he leaned in and kissed him.

The other man kissed him back, pressing him back against the wall and caging him in with his body.

"I love you," Draco managed against Harry's mouth. "Salazar. Yes, Harry," he gasped. "Yes to any of it, to all of it. Whatever you'll have of me."

"I'll have all of you," he murmured, "Any bit that you'll give me." He pulled back and Draco almost tipped over. Harry steadied him with his hands around his waist, "Stay right here," he murmured, giddy and breathless, dimpled-smile so bright that Draco was nearly overcome. "Don't move," he repeated before leaving the kitchen.

Draco heard the closet in the entry way opening, then Harry was skidding back into the kitchen. He fell to his knees in front of Draco, opening a ring box and displaying a simple silver band.

"Marry me?" Harry whispered, eyes wet and smile bright.

Draco nodded and Harry's trembling fingers held out the band to him, slipping it over Draco's ring finger. Once it was in place, Draco fell to his knees in front of Harry and cupped his face in his palms.

"Thank you," he whispered and Draco found himself wiping the tears spilling from his eyes.

"I think I'm really getting the better end of the bargain here," he whispered back with a little laugh.

Harry shook his head and more tears spilled out, Draco's heart felt like it was bursting in his chest. "This is everything I've ever wanted," he replied.

Draco wrapped him up in his arms and hoped that he'd be worthy of that love, worthy of that claim. "Stay," he whispered.

Harry nodded back, "Always."

----------------

written for the @hdcandyheartsfest prompt 'love language'

Read more of my 2023 hdcandyhearts ficlets here.

[moonheaves]

𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝒀𝑼 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺 ❣︎

————

Disclaimer: Just wanted to say that these are all based on my opinions/imagination. I know it’s a little disorganized, mainly because I normally don’t do these kinds of posts— mainly bc I am a fic writer. Thank you, and have a good day!

————

♡︎ I’d like to think that some time during the Banquet, the two found a way to sneak off somewhere away from the crowd— (like the palace gardens or an empty hallway) so that way they could privately continue their conversation without a lingering crowd of mages. While alone, they’d become vulnerable towards each other, a thread of apologies (from Sting) and sincere promises lingering in the air. That would mark their start of their friendship.

♡︎ Don’t know if it’s implied or not (or maybe I’m yapping), but it seems that some time after Sting apologized to Yukino (at the Banquet?) the pair had grown close. Incredibly close. Like they’re inseparable— to the point that if someone were to find the dragon slayer at any location in Fiore, there’s a higher chance that the celestial maiden is accompanying him. You could easily spot them holding hands or something— just to avoid “getting lost” (they just like hand holding, okay).

♡︎ Sting’s love language is physical touch and quality time. Hear me out— he adores showering Yukino with physical affection— forehead kisses, hugs from behind, and so forth sjsjs. Though this makes her incredibly flustered (in a good way, cause having your boyfriend be so… loving fills her with joy).

➾ Plus, he enjoys spending time with her— whether that is going out somewhere or in the commodity of their home.

♡︎︎ On the other hand, Yukino’s love language would consist of words of affirmation (and a dash of gift giving). Hearing such comforting words elicits butterflies in her stomach. Furthermore, the celestial mage has a small tendency to overthink things due to her reserved nature, but the blond’s reassuring tone often calms her. After all, Sting would ensure that she feels both loved and comfortable throughout their relationship.

➾ But when it comes to gift-giving, I believe that it’s something both do them would put effort into?? On one hand, Sting likes to buy her things such as jewelry, flower bouquets, chocolates, baking equipment, a book she wants to read; etc etc. Additionally, Yukino would also gift him things— little mementos that serve as a reminder of their love (such as keychains), a box of cookies, love notes— among other things!

♡︎ As to how they got together? Well, that’s an interesting story. Cause I feel like they both hesitated to confess? Like they’re both self aware that there’s some lingering feelings for each other, but actually vocalizing it made them anxious. Both of them would think about the what ifs or worst possible outcomes?? Once those nerves subside, Sting would make the first move.

♡︎ To end things in a lighthearted note, they shared their first kiss in a kaleidoscope of stars. It’s one of their favorite memories.

Aaah they love each other so much :,)

————

I have a lot more, but I think I’ll leave it at that for now!

[swallowedbyfandom]

When Rae wakes her early that morning she wonders which gentleman has set the fire she will likely have to put out that day. Luckily Rae is an angel sent from heaven, so she brings tea with her tales. Dash it, Rae looks terribly amused which means it involves Bridgerton shenanigans. Of all the ridiculous noble families society has to offer, the Bridgertons remain the ones Rae finds most amusing.

The further she gets into reading the report from Whites the more she debates day drinking. Surely, her mama would understand her need for Ratafia with breakfast this day. She did not expect a Bridgerton in the wild last night. She really thought Ant and Ben would drink with Colin until they all passed out in the study. Yet somehow Benedict ended up starting a bar brawl with Debling over bird pornography? That cannot be right. She must have misread that bit.

Unfortunately she did not misread it. She Penelope Featherington is now a muse for terribly written poetry. She wonders if Alfred chose the bird imagery because her name is Featherington or because he called her his Dove. She also wonders what offended Ben more. That Debling wrote erotic poetry about her or that he wrote bad erotic poetry about her? It could go either way with Ben. She will have to get ready to receive a lot of callers. She can hear the rumors now, Penelope Featherington the face that launched a thousand bar brawls. She accidentally snorts into her teacup. No wonder Rae is so amused. Now to break the news to her mama.

She warns her mama to expect a large volume of callers . She does not warn her mama that half of them may look like they just arrived in from the front lines. She also doesn't warn her mama about the extravagance of Bridgerton apologies. The look on her mother's face when half the florist shop arrives on their door step is worth it. The flowers from Ant all hold a simple card.

I sincerely apologize for my brother's behavior.

I will ensure he acts with more care for your reputation going forward.

Fondly,

Viscount Bridgerton

The flowers from Ben are her favorite as they are as eclectic and artistic as he is. Also because his arrangements carry a card that reads,

Sorry my brother is a dim witted whore.

At least he is very rich and pretty?

Also the rest of us are fantastic.

Fondly,

B. Bridgerton

Oh dear, hedonist Ben calling someone a whore. She cannot breathe through the hilarity of it. She knows that message must have been drafted while he was still half drunk. Still Ben makes the best emotional support brother.

She spends her morning to her mother's sheer disbelief dazzling callers. She pretends she does not know why they are all calling. After all, a gentle lady like herself would have no knowledge of escapades taken in a gentleman's club. She thanks them for coming to check on her after the very public breakdown of her courtship. She is demure and sweet above all.

She plays nurturing and concerned to the injured lords who show up battered from last nights brawl. She is all mischievous deflections with the rakes. She is bold humor and silly tales with the genuinely charming. She is sharp intellect with the business and academic minded. With all her callers, she is guileless in the face of their probing questions. While she would normally never bother with this level of effort for the shallow sheep of the ton, if she is leaving after this season she might as well leave an impression.

Her conversation with Lord Fife is the most fun she has all morning. For it is the only time she unleashes the full bite of her wit. He tries so hard to charm her.

"Miss Featherington, may I say you look ravishing this morning. I see why Bridgerton has attempted to keep you to himself." Fife sips his tea regally.

She arches a brow and allows a giggle to escape, "I am impressed you noticed anything at all with how devoutly you have been eyeing my neckline."

She watches the way his eyes startle up to her face. She smiles at him with chaos dancing in her eyes.

"Contrary to the rumors, Mr. Bridgerton and I have always maintained a chaste relationship. If you were hoping to see how you compare to him perhaps one of the nice working girls you both enjoy visiting would be kind enough to measure for you."

As he chokes on his tea and begins to cough, she continues.

"I am not sure why gentlemen enjoy comparing foils, but everyone must have a hobby I suppose."

She hands him a handkerchief as he continues to cough.

"Leave me out of the games you play, My lord. I am not a light skirt and you are not a husband." She calls over a footman. "Lord Fife seems to be coming down with something, he appears quite flushed does he not? Please escort him out. I hope you recover soon, Lord Fife."

She stands to give a small curtsy. She watches Fife exit with a slightly enamored and dazed look upon his face.

Her mother arches her brows at her in concern. She shakes her head lightly in response. Fife is no threat, who would believe him? She has played the timid Lady for years. She has also maintained a touch of hesitation when interacting with her callers so each gentleman feels like they have accomplished a grand feat when they get her to relax. Each gentleman that has come to call today will swear on a stack of bible about her gentle and virtuous nature. While Fife has a reputation for inappropriate behavior.

When her mama finally puts an end to calling hours she nearly leaps with joy. She calls for a sandwich and cake lord knows she has earned it. She is going to escape for a long bath and nap after this. She needs time to decompress.

Her mama has a terrifying gleam in her eyes. Thankfully she hid everything god awful dress her mama ever picked out. They are boxed and wrapped up with Gen. She never imagined she would miss maternal neglect so much, but here she is. She lets out a sigh. Her mama will have her dancing with suitors all night at the ball she is sure.

"Penelope, where are Mr. Bridgerton and Lord Debling this fine Morning? Are you not concerned"

Of course her mama wants to ask about them as if there was not a house full of desperate men just here, panting after her like dogs in heat. She wrinkles her nose up at the image.

"Lord Debling is likely nursing his injured pride and his injured face. He was involved in a fight of some sort at White's last night. I would be surprised if he showed his face in society for a few days."

"The Bridgertons are all competitive they are not going to let Colin come to call until they are satisfied with his plans for courting. They will all be at the ball but he is likely too ashamed to approach me just yet. He will stand by the dessert table and stare at me all night. His brother's will likely dance with me to keep other suitors away. We will see mama."

[ateezinmymind]

number seven

hongjoong x reader

fluff

this is part one !!!

word count: 3.4k

tag list: @yunhobabygurl @hxneyboy @bobateastay @multidreams-and-desires @yungisstar1117 @atinywhore

the breeze across your face causes the hairs on the back of your neck to rise, even under your bundled scarf. the autumn air - cold, brisk, ready and on the verge of winter.

on your way to the local grocery store, a part of you regretted walking and not riding the bus - or even your beat up and rusty bike you’ve had ever since your teenage years. the very tips of your fingers began to tingle with numbness from the cold, hands buried deep within your long coat pockets not helping one bit. but once you turn the corner, the store comes into view and the slightest dash of relief washes upon you.

it wasn’t even a long walk from your apartment, but the weather made it feel like it lasted one too many millions of years. ‘exaggerate much’

a long sigh leaves your mouth when you feel your phone buzz in the back pocket of your jeans. taking your already frozen hand out from the somewhat warmth of your coat pocket, you manage to dig out the phone - bringing it into your eyesight.

your roommates name displays itself on the screen and you hurriedly pick up the call.

“hello?” you say, closing in on the vicinity of the store's small parking lot. seeing the heat of your breath fog up the air

“y/n! where are you?” san’s voice shrieks through the speaker and into your ear, causing your face to flinch slightly. his concern makes you giggle softly while finally reaching the main entrance, and you grab the door handle and pull it open. walking into the led white lit building. “san, i already told you dummy. i’m at the store-“

“BYEOL NO-“ he interrupts you, yelling at the cat away from the phone. making you roll your eyes and smile - just imagining what mess that cat decided to make this time.

“sorry!” he apologizes over the sound of something rustling through the speaker. “the cat almost got into the plants you pulled down from the shelf”

dismissing his apology in understanding, since there was no need, you smile kindly at the store’s worker that greets you, “i’m only getting a few things that we ran out of, and i need more oat milk.” you continue, sliding a small grocery basket around your elbow.

“do you need me to grab anything while i’m here?” you question, making way to the dairy section.

he hums out in thinking, and then answers once thirteen seconds of him pondering saying “mmmmmnhhhhhh” are over.

“can you get me some strawberry yogurt and those yummy baby food things.. uh, like y’know those cereal puffs?”

after hearing his request, you burst out in a big laugh - catching the attention of a few other customers you pass in your path. “umm. sure san, i can get that for you” you manage to answer once you’ve caught your breath, and blinked back tears from your laughter.

“i’m being serious y/n” san whines out, then chuckles. “i’m really craving it”

“okayyyyy sannie, i’ll do it.”

reaching the glass case doors for the alternative milks, you grab two boxes of your favorite oat milk. “yay!” he cheers out like a five year old child.

smiling to yourself, and putting your things into the basket - you say goodbye to your roommate on the phone and hang up. now walking to your next destination, the yogurt aisle.

grabbing the strawberry yogurt you know san wants, you accidentally back into someone with your basket hooked on your arm.

“oh gosh! i’m so sorry!” you squabble out, in apology. whipping your head around to show your sincerity.

but to your surprise you see the most bright and kind face - instead of one wrenched with disgust that you were expecting.

the man shows his perfect set of teeth in a genuine and lighthearted chuckle, his glasses framing his smile squinted eyes.

“don’t be sorry!” he says, adjusting the black hat covering his platinum blonde hair. “that wouldn’t be the first time i’ve gotten bumped into” his eyes catch yours and you feel yourself blush just a bit while you let out a small polite sigh

he was incredibly handsome.

a small silence fills the air between you two, and you break eye contact and look down for a second. clearing your throat with a somewhat awkward cough.

he must've sensed your shyness and decided to speak up again

“im hongjoong!” his voice was cheerful, and almost instantly soothed your quick wave of anxiety. for you never know whether someone you accidentally run into is going to be as kind as he is. especially with these older ladies grumpy about the cold weather and such.

“it’s nice to meet you, im y/n” you say, putting out your hand in order for him to shake in an official introduction.

he immediately meets yours and you take notice of how some nails of his are painted black, and how the skin of his hands are rough yet at the same time incredibly youthful and gentle. the backside of his hand slightly dry, and you guess it’s from the cold temperatures

his grip isn’t overwhelming, but the perfect amount of pressure to where it’s comforting. like a hug.

“y/n, huh? i like it” his simple compliment causes you to pull your hand away in unexpectancy. “oh…oh, well .. thanks” you sputter, bringing your hand up to pull on your scarf. (that all the sudden feels too warm and tight)

hongjoong was definitely not oblivious to the fact that you were flustered, and it made a part of him all giddy and interested. to where he puts both hands in his back pockets and shifts his weight onto one leg and eyes you closely

you were very captivating, the flush to your cheeks only spreading to your ears now as you loosen the already loose scarf around your neck. he couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.

and hearing him chuckle, only worsened your embarrassment.

“relax, y/n” he soothes out, taking a step back to try and help you with some space. “i’m just complimenting you”

he laughs out again when you let out a little noise of a sort of groan and turn your head to the side. trying to gain composure. (or rather try and hide your growing smile)

you couldn’t believe yourself, you were literally acting a fool.

“i’m sorry” you say again. making him scoff out and wave his hands out in front of him. “don’t apologize! you’re totally okay!” he laughs more

“i think it’s cute” he tried reassuring you, but him saying that actively made your stomach erupt in butterflies and you felt yourself smile bigger.

taking a deep breath you look back into hongjoong’s eyes and lick your lips nervously. “well.. thank you.. hongjoong”

when you say his name, he dips his head and puts his hands back in his coat pockets this time. then finally takes notice of the things in your basket that bumped into him. the strawberry yogurt catching his attention.

turning away to look back at the selection of foods behind you, hongjoong speaks yet again and gets your attention once more. “strawberry yogurt huh? i love yogurt.” he steps forward right next to you and grabs a package for himself. “thanks for the idea”

watching him by your side holding one container and looking for another flavor you finally take in the sight of his side profile. perfect, smooth skin and the many piercings that adorn his ears - his long lashes behind his eyewear almost touching the glass.

he was so captivating.

“oh yeah hehe.. yep, just grabbing some things we’re out of.” you reply back, averting your gaze away from him.

as much as he wants to, hongjoong doesn’t ask who ‘we’ is and instead nods his head and picks up some vanilla yogurt to put in his shopping cart too. and a small silence falls between you two once more.

“well, i guess i should head to my next thing on the grocery list,” he says, pulling a small crumpled piece of paper with some dark green ink arrayed all over from out of his pocket. “it was nice getting bumped into by you y/n” he says with a teasing tone, while sending you a friendly wink. which you shake your head and laugh softly, trying not to make a face of distress. turning your body to face him as well. “uh yeah, sorry about that again hehe” you groan out with an exaggerated frown that mimicked one of a frog with your strained jaw (in the best way) and it made him snicker

“i’m only joking, but it really was nice meeting you”

you blush and drop your eyes down to glance at his mouth. glossy lips stretched in a sweet smile, you involuntarily swallow and smile back. “yeah, you too hongjoong”

looking back into his eyes you see them squint just slightly for a second. a flash of affection displayed itself it had seemed, but you didn’t know for certain for he waved you goodbye and turned around and walked away. leaving you in the reminisce of your flustered self.

taking a deep breath and letting it out in another audible sigh you try and remember what to do next.

“strawberry yogurt…” checking off items on the imaginary grocery list in your head, “right,” you say to yourself,

“fucking baby food”

trying not to let that quick encounter with the handsome man distract you too much as you step on track to the infants section.

wearing the most gleaming of smiles across your face

“choi san!” you shout, closing the front door to your apartment. one grocery bag on your arm hitting the side of your thigh as you begin taking off your scarf and coat.

you hear a pattering of footsteps coming through the hallway and out comes san at your service - still in his pajamas. “yes ma’am?” he says teasingly. “will you please put these things away?” you ask, taking the bag into your hand and reaching it out in front of you. while the other hand and shoulder shimmy off your jacket.

“of course!” san voices in a dramatic almost elderly way, taking the groceries and heading to the kitchen with you following behind - once you slip off your shoes and reply with a light ‘thank you’.

“how did ol shopping go, hmm? did you walk there?”

nodding your head, even though san couldn’t see - you bend down and give the cat a few scratches behind her ears. “it was good, and yeah, i did walk there.” you answer, then walk over to the sink - grabbing a water pitcher and filling it. “but i regretted it, and took the bus home - it’s actually so fucking cold outside.” you complain, turning the water off when it reaches around half full.

going to the counter where the plants you left earlier were situated, you began pouring water into each. giving them the same amount. “the walk there sounds l-a-m-e.” he tells you, closing the fridge door and dashing to quickly snatch byeol before she can walk into the living room. (leaving the grocery bag on the floor in the process, for you to end up picking up for him)

tossing the water pitcher into the sink, causing clunking sounds of heavy plastic and aluminum to echo in the kitchen. you pick up one the plants and place it on the shelf next to the sink. “do you know a hongjoong?”

you don’t mind the dead leaf that fell off the greenery, leaving it there for later and turning your body to face san who finally caught byeol and had her in his arms. leaning your backside against the sink.

“hongjoong?” san pipes up in question (more to himself than you - vocalizing it to try and help his brain to remember any recollection of the name). humming out with ponder, he clicks and squints his eyes. shaking his head. “mmmh i can't say that i do y/n, im sorry”

dismissing the slight feeling of disappointment, you grab the other plant and put it back in place. “why?” san asks, watching your mood change just in the slightest bit.

“oh nothing, i just met a guy at the store today named hongjoong” you say, now busying yourself to the fridge and grabbing a handful of blueberries out of their small container and popping them in your mouth. “was wondering whether you knew him or not is all”

“hmm.. i see, i see” san replies, trying to contain byeol from jumping out of his arms. “was he cute or something?”

swallowing down the berries hard, you clear your throat and whip your head to look san straight in the eyes, with a sliver of mischievousness.

“maybeeeee.” you say in a playful way. ultimately making your roommate shriek and bust out in an excited laugh, readying himself to hear all about this new profound grocery store crush of yours.

whining out in exhaustion, you yell for san once more. the pain in your head becoming an excruciating pound, and you regret calling for help immediately.

two days since you ventured out in the cold to go to the store and now your body suddenly decided it wanted to get sick?

fun.

“sannie!!”

no response, again… you’d think yelling for him four times before would work but it didn’t, so you lay back down on your pillow. accepting the fact that he’s most likely not home.

carefully and slowly, you turn your body to grab your phone that’s plugged into the charger on its place in the window sill. texting san if he could pick you up some advil from the store.

dropping your phone from your hand you close your eyes in waiting. and then feeling the buzzing of the notification in a matter of seconds, you pick the phone back up and look at his reply.

‘so sorry, i’m not gonna be home until tonight! i love you’

sighing out. and maybe cursing under your breath, you decide that you’ll just go ahead and stop by the store yourself. (the pain in your skull ultimately sealing this thought)

so, texting san back a quick ‘no worries, love you’ - you steadily get yourself up and grab your wallet from the nightstand it was thrown on and clothe yourself in every warm piece of apparel that was available. heading out the door with a mission for some relieving drugs.

only this time… you took the bus there.

“thank you” giving the best smile you could muster towards the snobby teenaged cashier, you grab the small sack of newly purchased medicine for your cold and made your way to the exit. sighing when the cold air hits your face once again with an icy tinge

sniffling from your nose, you clutch the grocery bag close as your arms flatten across your chest to hold your sides seeking warmth. nuzzling your chin deeper in the bundle of your scarf, crossing the parking lot to the sidewalk of the tiny strip mall where the bus stop was stationed at the corner, you instinctively become oblivious of any person you pass by

until you hear your name being called

“it’s y/n, right?”

turning your head over your shoulder towards the sound of the familiar voice, none other than your new acquaintance met your eyes

hongjoong.

you felt your stomach flip again seeing his welcoming smile with crescent shaped eyes. “oh hi!” you greet, returning his grin. then fully taking in his appearance, he was still wearing the same black hat he wore the other day, but his build was puffier than before. his crossed over arms with the bulging comfort of his layered tops. a black trench type of coat draped over what looked to be an oversized beige hoodie. he wasn’t wearing glasses like last time, and instead it seemed he exchanged it for a scarf … covered around his neck just like the way you wore it on your own.

‘yep .. still handsome’

“what have you been up to? how’ve you been?” his voice sounded so genuine and interested as he beams you one of his infamous smiles. his questions made you feel comforted and almost seen, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart lift in your rib cage. “oh well… i actually just got finished picking some medicine up from the store,” you begin, motioning your head to the right and towards your previous walking trail from the supermarket. “it’s funny, because i seemed to catch a little cold from the day we met. i was stupid enough to not take the bus haha!”

your energy was soothing to hongjoong, and his eyes softened hearing your light chuckle recalling just two days ago. “anyways, yeah …” you continue, “nothing really just gonna go home and try to relax and warm up, try and fully get rid of this headache” stopping with a tight smile, your eyes then go wide internally realizing that you were being impolite not asking him back.

“well-“, hongjoong softly sighs, “what-“ you blurt out right when he begins to speak up, causing the two of you to lightly chuckle in unison. “oh, i’m sorry, you first” you insist with one of your hands releasing it’s grip around your side to lift up and loosely pull on your scarf (something hongjoong noticed you do when nervous - like last time). your beaming grin slowly relaxing from the chuckle the lovely man and you shared.

hongjoong’s voice was like a little spark of warmth which seemed to have an effect on your blood flow and heart rate, and after he too falters his fit of snickering - his tongue prods out to wet the corner of his mouth naturally before speaking again. “i was just going to say that’s too bad, you got sick and all.” pausing he grows a new look of amusement and continues with a cheeky look, “sick of me i betcha”

this causes you to scoff and probably chuckle a little louder than you wanted, swatting your hand from your scarf and down to barely graze the front of his jacket. “nuh uh!” you retort with a high pitch, nose scrunching in a teasing way, along with a roll of your eyes. blatantly ignoring the light pound of your head.

“i’m kidding” he laughs, “you haven’t been around me long enough to get sick of me.. yet”

his response sent your stomach fluttering, yet the tiny voice in the back of your head kept saying he was just ‘being friendly’ and ‘he didn't mean it in any other way besides just being polite’. “honestly i don’t think i could.” you reply, quieter but with more confidence in your gaze up to his. tilting his chin back just slightly with a growing smirk seeing this new version of the girl he’s only met twice, hongjoong’s thoughts arrived. ‘what kind of game are you playing y/n’. and his mind couldn’t help but also think back to you talking about living with someone already, from your first encounter with one another.

“well,” he pipes back up again, tugging his hands deep in his coat pockets - then giving a big sniffle through his nose followed by another full set of teeth smiles, he continues. a slight shake in his voice, “i was just about to go get myself a drink,” he states, poking his elbow back towards the entrance of the local cafe, “can i get you something?”

his kind offer was surprising to you, and it definitely showed on your face, because he immediately started shaking his head with a big smile. “you can decline y/n” and his cheeriness soothed your blushing cheeks, but it didn’t help the way your eyes bulged wide open. “oh- oh, no that would be so nice”

feeling your hands shake gently, you dig them underside each elbow as you cross your arms tightly (your small grocery bag shuffling with the movement).

hongjoong nods his head in agreement and takes one step back and then slowly turns around to go ahead and open the cafe door, doing so with such ease. the faint and welcoming sound of the doorbell jingles and he gives you an assuring hand outstretched towards your anticipating stance out in the sidewalk.

“then let’s get you out of the cold.”

[ace-disgrace-on-the-case]

Hi uh

Really sorry for all that shit I’ve been reblogging, just trying to figure out my emotions on this shit and really figure out if I’m in a situation that I need to worry about

I swear I have done this before but my brain will not let it stick

Anyways there will be no more of these tonight and I sincerely apologize for putting it all on your dash

[getosugurusbangs]

honestly at this point, to everyone who follows me, i sincerely apologize for all the bullshit i put on your dash. idk why any of you are still here and i hope you’re holding up okay

[zhounauts]

one hit is all it takes ; k.gyuvin

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*・゜゜・．*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧.・゜゜・*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

CHAPTER 1 ! hit and run

word count ! 482 words

masterlist next

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*・゜゜・．*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧.・゜゜・*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were never a competitive person.

Well - you were never competitive, until your team somehow managed to completely bulldoze its way through the brackets of your gym class’ handball tournament. Next thing you knew, your team was in the finals; and now here you were, running around the court at ungodly speeds trying to get the ball.

"ANDDDD THE BLUE TEAM HAS THE BALL! I REPEAT, THE BLUE TEAM IS IN POSSESSION!" Junhyeon, the self-appointed commentator, yells. You watch as Haruto, on the opposite team, holds the ball in his hands, desperately trying to find an open teammate. He chucks it towards Keita, but just as quickly as the ball had left his hand, your teammate Seunghwan had intercepted it.

"OH SEUNGHWAN! HE’S GOT THE BALL! RED HAS THE BALL! GENTS AND LADIES THEY’RE CURRENTLY AT A TIE. WILL RED BE ABLE TO BREAK IT?" Junhyeon screams, causing the students on the side to erupt in cheers. You run across the court as Seunghwan carefully steps forwards, and then you see it. An opening. 

"OH, AND WHERE IS Y/N GOING? WOAH SHE’S MOVING FAST! LOOK AT HER GO!"

"SEUNGHWAN! OVER HERE!" you scream, sprinting towards blue’s net. Seunghwan’s eyes meet yours and he passes the ball to you. You locked in on the ball. Here it comes, you think to yourself. Your hands reach up, and you jump. "SHE’S GOT THE BALL! SHE’S GOT THE BALL! LETS GO Y/N!!" 

The world seemed to be moving at 0.25x speed as you put all your strength into the shot. You could feel the pressure from the audience and from your teammates. This one shot meant everything.

Everything. 

.

.

.

The ball sails through the air and makes its way exactly to Red’s net. Your aim was impeccable. There was no way it wouldn’t be in; victory was yours. But just as the ball was about to sail through the net, their goalie, Gyuvin, dove to block it and —

 SMACK! 

"OH SHIT.”

. 

.

.

The whole gym pauses as Gyuvin lay sprawled out on the floor. You continue to stand in your spot dumbly as his team moves to surround him and make sure he’s ok. The gym is loud again, with people screaming, trying to get closer to the court to see the damage you had inflicted on the boy.

“EVERYBODY CALM DOWN I DO NOT BELIEVE HE IS DEAD—” Junhyeon comments unhelpfully as the P.E. teacher dashes across the court to where Gyuvin lies. You watch the chaos unfold in front of you and start to freak out. Why? Because Gyuvin was, well, The Kim Gyuvin. 

Yeah, it was cringy as hell to refer to him as that but he was popular. He had fans who’d soon be plotting your murder, and was part of the popular boy friend group. So you did what any reasonable person would do. You ran away!!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*・゜゜・．*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧.・゜゜・*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

TAGLIST ! @yeolaegi

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*・゜゜・．*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧.・゜゜・*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n let me know your thoughts! i write a lot but don't usually post it or anything so lemme know what you guys think + what to improve.

+ if ur a grammar person i deeply sincerely apologize for the back and forth between past and present tense. my proofreader mentioned it as well 😞💪

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

I need some clarification here, because I'm getting conflicting information with what I've been taught is "fandom protocol" (I'm an elder, so maybe I'm out of the loop a bit.) I was under the impression that if you disagree with someone, block and move on with life. Don't engage, don't mob, just block and move on with life. I see you reblogging posts from folks who have admitted that that's what they did - followed basic fandom protocol.

Are you now saying that those that reblogged that screenshot post are responsible for sending the message that "it's okay to mob the OP with death threats" by doing so? Aren't most of these blogs 18+ that are admittedly only responsible for their own actions? Are we now to wait 24 hours to ensure there's not a dialogue that needs to happen? Obviously fact-checking should be done, but things slip through, especially when it's from a source we perceive as a vetted source.

You're starting to hold folks accountable for crimes which they confess they did not commit. One offered a sincere, public apology taking responsibility for their actions, an acknowledgement of the harm they caused, and a commitment to doing better in the future along with removing the offending post after your call out. Isn't that what a good apology is?

I think you've moved the goalposts on this, and it's no longer about spreading awareness of Gaz-erasure (whether intentional or not) and the inappropriate screen-grab rage-bait of a post. I am very concerned for Myka - they never should have been put in this place. But I think your emotions are swelling out past those that deserve it.

(BTW, I did send the same ask to CrashTestBunny, but I'd like your thoughts too - especially on block-and-move-on and being responsible for follower's actions as an 18+ blog.)

I did see this in bunny's blog and did ponder on what you asked and here's my two cents on it:

(this is so long)

When you're on the internet and posting things publicly, you're not isolated, you're not alone.

Your blog, even if you make sure to never reblog/interact with it or use tags and therefore think you're keeping it anonymous, you're really not.

You're never immune from being found, from being criticised for the things you say, and you are certainly not anonymous.

I start by saying that to say that there will ALWAYS be people ready to criticise others for the things they say/post or the way they act.

So even if the "fandom etiquette" dictates that you should block and move on with your life, that's not to say everyone will.

And in this case, what happened with @/codslut had nothing to do with being unable to block and move on. That only works for posts you see in your dash and don't like, because we all are responsible for curating our algorithm and choosing what we interact with.

With @/codslut, she became a victim of public scorn over a misunderstanding and misinterpretation like a game of broken telephone.

And the person that screenshotted her post and shared it with their followers knew exactly what they were doing by doing so which was publicly posting about it and creating discourse among their followers.

I want to believe they thought they were an island/isolated, but I know (and we all know) they knew they weren't. Turns out they have a history of influencing their followers (by accident or on purpose, doesn't matter) into ganging up on other creators.

And with blogs as big as the screenshotter's, with as big of a following and that much of an activity, and, of course, the reblogging that came from other big blogs with massive followings as well...

It's no wonder it all spun out of control and became unmanageable.

And, as usual, the internet will do what the internet will do, and bad apples will find their way into controversial posts (like the Gaz erasure) and then go bully people because they think they can.

And in this situation... blocking and moving on doesn't work. It simply doesn't.

@/codslut didn't have the choice to block and move on with her day. Not after what was basically a scorn campaign that sent dozens of people her way.

These blogs, big ones, have a responsibility, not to police their follower's actions (as if a parent) but to hold themselves accountable because they did throw wood into the fire by reblogging it and putting it in more people's dashboards.

They can't just wash their hands of all responsibility, because they did have a hand in it. Even if they didn't mean to.

TL;DR: 1- "Block and Move On" only works on the dash, not when people are harrassing you in your blog/inbox; 2- You're not responsible for your followers' actions, but you are responsible for the fact you instigated their actions by poking the beast.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

To Have Loved and Lost Part Eight

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: George Russell x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: Hiiiii welcome baaaaaack thank you for reaaaaadiiiiiiiing this chapter is hecking looooooooong

Warnings: Still slightly angsty but not nearly as angsty as the one that i wrote, what, 87 years ago; Gilded Age Manners™; pining; The One That Got Away; not a traditional happy ending

Bonus points if you catch the Gone with the Wind reference in this chapter

Summary: It was as if his entire world had been tipped on its head. He’d squared facts away with himself years ago. His affections had been mislaid; his hopes were dashed, and he’d been thrown over for a far richer man. In his youth, he had put the letters that he had received away rather than burn them, and for what? To someday rub her face in them? To tutor Larry in false hopes, in the often fickle affections of the female sex? 

The ball at Mrs. Fane’s was where Larry began to put the pieces together. 

The two of them had each given him individual pieces of the puzzle—one, an edge, the other, a middle. One by one, a picture built clearly in his mind. 

It had started with his father’s remembrance—a bitter little smile as Gladys fretted over a dress. 

“The pout reminds me of a girl I once knew,” He’d admitted, watching Gladys turn to and fro, eyeing herself in the mirror. “She used to say that fineries made her uncomfortable, that she looked awful in them. As if she was,” He chuckled, “‘A mule in a horse’s harness’.” 

“A girl?” Larry asked. “The one before mother?” 

Discomfort had flashed across George’s face so quickly that if Larry had so much as blinked, he might’ve missed it. His father's typically calm demeanor had replaced the upset just a moment later, and he’d given a short nod. 

“Yes.” 

The admission had been a surprise—and the phrase that his father had uttered had been so unusual that it had stayed in Larry's mind. 

Hearing it again was jarring. Larry had only been trying to pay a compliment to the latest family to be drawn into their orbit. His mother had implored him to take a turn or two with a spinster cousin—just a couple of dances, Bertha had insisted, something to flatter the poor woman.

They’d made easy enough small talk during the following two waltzes, and Larry hadn’t excused himself the once the songs had ended. Instead, he kept his hold on her arm, steering the two of them toward the refreshments table. She seemed a quick woman, smart, and clever, with none of the spirit that he’d expect of a spinster. 

“Your dress is lovely.” 

He had meant it sincerely. But she’d chuckled, and his own smile had faltered.

“There’s no need for exaggeration, Mr. Russell.” 

“Exaggeration?” 

“I look like a mule in a horse’s harness.” 

It was as if another puzzle piece clicked into place. Larry couldn’t help but stare, his face going hot with realization as his gaze darted between her, and where his parents were conversing on the other side of the room. As soon as he saw his father begin to glance in his direction, he guiltily turned away, plucking up a glass of lemonade and taking so hasty a swig that he nearly choked on it. 

She regarded him with confusion then, brow furrowing. 

“Are you quite alright, Mr. Russell?” 

“I am,” He plastered on a smile. “I apologize, I thought I…Where was it you said that you were from?” 

Her face twisted with slight confusion. “All over,” She shrugged, “But, most recently, our family settled up in Albany.” 

“They’re not from Albany, then.” 

“No, no,” She chuckled, casting her gaze around. “Nothing as grand as all that. Franklin and I were raised in a very small town out West. Of course, it boomed when oil was found.” 

“Of course. Whereabouts? I’m sure my mother mentioned, but I seem to have forgotten.” 

Her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the glass, raising it to her lips as she admitted, “Stevensville.” 

And then she took a long sip, as if she needed to wash the taste of the town’s name from her mouth. 

--  

“Did you enjoy yourself?” 

“Very much,” Gladys smiled gratefully, “But I’m awfully tired.” 

“You ought to get up to bed,” Bertha urged, “We have a meeting with Miss Barton in the morning.” 

“Of course. Goodnight, father. Goodnight, Larry. Goodnight, mother.” 

George watched as Gladys ascended the stairs. Larry followed not far behind, and Bertha excused herself to speak with Mrs. Bruce about tweaking arrangements for the following day. That was more than alright with George. He made his way to his study, recalling his evening of stolen glances.

She had looked lovely. The dress had suited her, though she had seemed a touch uncomfortable. He smiled at the thought. She always hated fineries. George hadn’t meant to watch, and he was certain that every look had gone entirely unnoticed by her—especially when she’d taken a turn with Larry. She certainly danced better than she used to. George had taught her—or, tried to—when they’d been together in Stevensville. It had started as a friendly endeavor, before their feelings for one another had flourished. She’d asked him, and he couldn’t help but oblige. 

He’d taken her hand, unable to help noting the dry roughness of her palm from her hours of work, and led her out to the field of high grass behind the boarding house. He’d shown her the steps one by one, encouraging her as she tripped over her feet, and urging her on as her steps became more smooth. He’d seen a spark of joy in her eyes, a wide smile turning her lips up. It was a look that he’d quickly become addicted to. 

George opened the door to his office, glancing down the hall before shutting the door behind himself. He’d received a small parcel from Clay before they’d left for the ball, and hadn’t had a chance to open it before they’d gone. Now, he crossed to his desk, opening the drawer where he’d left the bundle of papers. Clay’s note was on the top in his neat scrawl. George couldn’t help but smile a little. He hoped that Clay was home getting some rest, the poor devil. He’d been in Stevensville for nearly a week chasing down the answers that George had sought. 

George took up his letter opener, slicing open the top of Clay’s note and drawing it from the envelope. His eyes skimmed the contents, catching on mother’s death certificate, boarding house, post office, and unsent letters. 

Unsent letters…

George’s eyes dropped to the remaining stack of letters. He set down Clay’s note, reaching for the first time-aged envelope. He skimmed her familiar handwriting, eyeing the address—the first boarding house that he’d stayed in once he’d arrived in New York. He opened it gingerly, unfolding it as though it may disintegrate in his hands if he wasn't careful.

Darling George—

I trust that you have, by now, safely arrived in New York. I do hope that I’ve written this to the correct address. I did check it against the one that you gave me at least four times. If I’m wrong, I shall never live it down, and I hope that you won’t be upset with me. I am trying, love. 

Everything seems so much more difficult without you here. In truth, nothing has changed, but I feel your loss so greatly. Days seem to move far slower—evenings go at a snail’s pace. I find myself searching for you in the face of every stranger. Please send for me once you’re settled. I would be there now if only you’d let me leave with you.

George couldn’t finish it. His heart had begun to pound in his chest. He dropped the letter on his desk, taking up the next and opening it with far less care than he had the first. 

My dear, George,

It’s been three weeks since I’ve heard from you. I can only hope that it’s because you’ve been terribly busy, and not because you’ve forgotten about me. I have my bag packed, and I’ve saved enough fare for the train. I will come the moment you call. I hope that New York is treating you well. 

He dropped that one without finishing it as well, fumbling fingers reaching for the next one as his blood ran hot. He tore the next one open with such vehemence that the letter itself wound up with a small tear in the middle as he opened it, the crinkling of the paper clogging his ears—

George—

Are you hurt? Are you unwell? I find myself wondering if you’re perhaps laying in a gutter somewhere, unable to ask for help. Perhaps your fingers have been crushed and you’re unable to write, or you’ve caught some deathly cold and your throat is too raw to dictate a letter. Or perhaps you’ve changed your mind about our life together. 

I implore you to send me any signal that you’re well, even if it is to cut ties. I’ve been losing sleep for worrying

He dropped it atop the other unfolded letters, opening the next, and the next, and the next. As he reached the bottom of the pile, he dropped into his chair, his hand raising to undo his bow tie and yank open his collar as his face flared with heat. God’s teeth, when did the room become so hot? When did his hands begin to shake? 

He wanted a drink. He wanted to throw something. He wanted to find some way to go back to Stevensville, to take her with him when he’d first left. It could’ve meant scandal of her family, but they could’ve found a way—a rushed, courthouse wedding to appease propriety. George pushed a harsh breath out through his nose, his hand raking through his hair. 

It was as if his entire world had been tipped on its head. He’d squared facts away with himself years ago. His affections had been mislaid; his hopes were dashed, and he’d been thrown over for a far richer man. In his youth, he had put the letters that he had received away rather than burn them, and for what? To someday rub her face in them? To tutor Larry in false hopes, in the often fickle affections of the female sex? 

George lowered himself into his seat, scrubbing his hand across his beard. He found his gaze drifting toward the clock. It was far too late, far too late, but—

For the first time in a long time, he was unable to control himself. He hopped up, snatching the letters and binding them up in twine again. He rounded his desk, yanking the rope to call downstairs. He wasn’t sure quite what his plan was—if he got the butler, or if he caught her in her night clothes—Poor thing, she’d likely feel the need to redress, and after the ball, too, but he couldn’t wait until morning. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“The carriage, Church.” 

He glanced up, just catching the sight of Church’s startled expression before he nodded, “Yes, sir.” 

He took a step back, nodding and closing the door behind himself. George reached down, fingers fumbling to do up his bow tie and rebutton his collar. If he was going to turn up at such an unfortunate hour, he could, at least, keep from seeming as though he was in his cups. 

--  

“Miss?” 

You turned in your vanity seat back toward the door with an expectant frown, brows raising. “Yes, Kate?” 

“There’s someone here to see you.” 

Your brow furrowed, eyes darting toward the clock. At this hour? It must be a very great emergency. 

“Who is it?” 

“It…” Kate glanced over her shoulder nervously before skulking deeper into the room, whispering, “It’s Mr. Russell. He’s waiting in his carriage.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and your face twisted with confusion. Surely it couldn’t be the younger Mr. Russell; you hadn’t left anything at the Fane’s, and you knew better than to expect that you’d somehow aroused the passions of a young man with two waltzes. You cleared your throat, turning back to your vanity as heat rose in your face. 

“I see,” You nodded. You needed a plan of attack. You needed to dress, see him inside and make this as quick and painless as possible. You cleared your throat, leaping up. “Help me dress.” 

“Should I wake Mr. Hughes?” 

“Thank you, no. If Mr. Russell wanted to speak with Mr. Hughes, he would’ve asked for him. Have Barker invite Mr. Russell inside.” 

--  

It was a herculean labor, but you were hurrying down the steps of the rented house within fifteen minutes. You tightened your coat around yourself, glancing warily up and down the block before you poked your head into the carriage. You could just make him out in the low light of the evening. 

“May I invite you inside?” 

“Your man already tried,” George nodded over your shoulder. “Please get in.” 

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Mr. Russell.” 

“What causes your concern? Your reputation?” George’s brows rose. “We won’t move from this spot, but I need to speak with you in private.” 

“We could speak privately inside. No one else is awake.” 

“Your servants are, and servants talk.” 

“But footmen don’t?” You arched a brow. George’s lips twitched before he opened the door, forcing you to step back. 

“Please,” He urged, holding a hand out. Your stomach flipped as you glanced toward it. You suddenly had a flash to your past—to the fields of high grass behind the boarding house in Stevensville, and the low hum of his voice marking out the pace of a waltz. You hesitated a moment more before you took hold of his hand, letting him help you up and inside. 

You settled back in the seat opposite his hesitantly, glancing around the plush interior. You would have to get Franklin one of these. You froze, realizing that you’d been staring—and that Mr. Russell was watching you, still. You forced yourself to sit up straighter, flattening your expression and clasping your hands in your lap. 

“You can hardly expect me to stay out here in this way for long, Mr. Russell. This is highly irregular and incredibly improper.” 

For a moment, Mr. Russell said nothing, and it was a fight to keep from wringing your hands. Then, you watched him reach into his inner coat pocket, fishing around for a moment. You heard the rustle of papers, and you frowned. 

“Surely any contracts you’re entering into with Franklin can be handled by—” You fell silent once you saw the parcel in his hand. Your brow furrowed. He held it out before you could ask for clarification. You reached for it, careful to keep your gloved fingertips from brushing his as you took hold of them. You looked down, brow furrowing more deeply at the sight of the letters, your heart skipping in your chest. You knew that handwriting—you knew that address. 

“...Where did you get these?” You breathed. You tipped the stack toward yourself, throat drying. “You’ve opened them.” 

“I did, but only tonight.” 

“Tonight?” 

“An associate of mine recently recovered them.” 

The fact made your stomach churn. George pushed on: 

“They were at the post office in Stevensville. It seems that your mother paid and ordered any communications between the two of us stopped and held.”

You couldn’t help it, then. You slouched back in your seat. 

“I thought you’d always had them,” You admitted quietly. 

“I thought you’d abandoned me.” 

“I thought the same of you.” Your eyes flitted toward George, then away again as you cleared your throat. “Have you anything else that you came here for?” 

“None.” 

“Well.” You set the letters aside, and stood, climbing down from the carriage. “Then I’ll thank you to come back when the sun is up, and at a regular time, Mr. Russell.” 

“And what would you like me to do with these?” He leaned forward, taking up the letters and holding them out. 

“Read them, burn them, line a birdcage with them. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“You’ve nothing to say?” 

“On this matter, no. I am resigned.” 

Mr. Russell’s hand landed on yours the moment you closed the carriage door. You hurriedly yanked your hand back from the door, face flaring with indignant heat. 

“I could never imagine you as resigned.” 

“No?” Your brows raised. “Not as resigned, but you could imagine me as a fickle, unfaithful, uncaring shrew? Perhaps you could imagine some way for the two of us to turn the hands of time back and keep my mother from filling your head with lies. But I know better than to believe in miracles, and I think I’ve had quite enough of your imagination for one evening, Mr. Russell. Goodnight.” 

You turned without waiting for an answer, striding back toward the house. You fought to keep your composure in front of Kate, thanking her for her help and service, and—

“Please do not mention this to Mr. Hughes.” 

“No, ma’am.” Kate took a step back toward the door, froze, then took a step forward again. “But if he should ask?” 

“Tell him that he can take the matter up with me directly.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Thank you again, Kate. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” 

She smiled on her way out, and you did your best to find it genuine—but you could only imagine the way the staff tongues would be wagging. You could practically see the way they’d eye you at breakfast, the smug sidelong glances and nudges as you gave the day’s orders. Of course, you hadn’t been in the carriage long enough for anything of substance to happen, but that didn’t matter. In future, you’d have to ask Mr. Russell to refrain from taking any actions that would put you in a compromising position. 

Well, in future, you were certain that your interactions with Mr. Russell would be fairly limited. 

-- 

“Of course, my theory is rather far-fetched—“

“On the contrary!” Marian insisted. “The prospect is intriguing.” 

Larry ducked his head bashfully, turning to face the park’s path. Gladys and her ladies maid were not too far ahead of them. He couldn’t help but wonder at the way they were taking turns, glancing back toward him and Marian every few moments before leaning in and giggling with one another. 

“Do you really think that she and your father knew one another in Stevensville?” Marian pressed on, seemingly unaware of the intermittent attention that they were receiving from out ahead of them. 

“It’s certainly a possibility. Of course, the phrase that my father mentioned may simply be a local colloquialism, and I may have the wrong end of the stick in this matter.” 

“There must be a way to approach the matter delicately.” 

“Approach?” Larry’s brow furrowed as his steps slowed. “You don’t really mean to bring this matter to her?” 

“Why not? Perhaps she and your father could be friends again. Strengthening their bond could strengthen the business between your families.” 

Larry’s lips pursed as he considered. 

“Perhaps,” He conceded. He glanced down to find Marian watching him curiously. He chuckled nervously, brow furrowing. “What is it?” 

“Mrs. Fish mentioned a production of Romeo & Juliet coming to the city. It will be performed at one of the more reputable theaters. Aunt Agnes is not a fan of theater, but she considers Shakespeare’s works significant. Perhaps we could go, and invite Eleanor. We would need chaperones, of course,” She leaned in, lowering her voice a touch. Larry couldn’t help his smile widening at the sight of the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. 

“Of course,” He conceded. “But if we’re wrong?” 

“Then we've all simply spent a pleasant evening at the theater without consequence. But if we’re right?” 

Larry thought for a moment, his stomach twisting with nerves. If they were right…Perhaps all hell would break loose. 

--  

The theater was a grand space. The box’s interior was plush, with cushioned red velvet seats. You’d perhaps unfairly expected it to be something of a squeeze with your evening gowns, as well as Eleanor and Marian’s, but the seats were spaced well enough. You sat in the middle of the three seats in the back row of the box, seated somewhat awkwardly between the two Mr. Russell’s; Larry sat on your left, closer to the stage, and George on your right, further from it. Eleanor sat just in front of you, in the very front box seat, and Marian was to her right, in front of Mr. Russell. 

You never attended much theater. It was considered obscene by your mother, and Franklin had only had a single occasion to take you to while you were in Chicago. That play had been dreadful—long, and boring. It had been a battle to stay awake.

This invitation had taken you by surprise, but you’d been glad for it. It had become increasingly difficult for Eleanor to be left out of social events, and she’d been growing antsy and moody, having to spend so much time at home. She seemed bright and eager now, unable to keep still or contain her giddiness.  She was peering around the theater in wonder, pointing the various features out to Marian—the gold filigree decorating the walls and ceiling; the fineries of other theater patrons; the grandness of the stage. For your nerves and discomfort, you couldn’t help but smile at Eleanor’s joy. 

“Are you familiar with the play?” Larry asked softly as he leaned toward. 

“Not particularly,” You admitted, shaking your head. 

“It’s a tragedy. A tale of star-crossed lovers.” 

The words made your stomach flip. You swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to shift in your seat. It sounded familiar. You fought the urge to glance toward Mr. Russell, to see if it pricked the same memory, the same interest. You saw the flash of his cuff link out of the corner of your eye, and your hands tightened around your fan. You could push the feeling away—you would push the feeling away. The evening was certain to be a long one if you couldn’t manage it. 

--  

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

It was as though a spector had sprung your past and put a scare into you. The utterance of that line made your heart leap into your throat, your face going hot. Your grip grew so tight on the fan that you were certain you would break it. You felt faint, almost—as if you were set to swoon back in the chair, only to be awakened by a dose of smelling salts. A cold sweat broke on your brow, and you raised your glove to dab at the few beads. You fought to keep your breathing steady, and even, biting the inside of your cheek and forcing your eyes to remain on the stage, even as the play moved on and simply washed over you. 

“Are you quite alright?” 

It would be an innocent enough question from anyone else, but coming from George Russell, it felt like a targeted barb. You could see Marian and Larry tipping their heads to glance at you in your periphery; you were grateful that Eleanor is so immersed in the play that she didn’t catch on Mr. Russell’s query at all. 

Your stiff nod was your only reply. You didn’t trust your voice in this moment, certain that opening your mouth would let out the wail building up behind your lips. 

It was in the past. 

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.” 

It was a time that you had known once, and would not know again. 

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

The presence of the man who had once murmured those words, who had once pressed a cuff link into your palm as you’d given him your best ribbon, was purely and painfully coincidental. 

You managed to hold completely still and keep silent throughout the remainder of the first half, but as soon as the curtain closed for intermission, you were out of your chair, murmuring, “Excuse me,” and leaving the box before either man had a chance to rise to their feet. You hurried to step into the hall, walking at double the polite pace, desperate to find some air or quiet as the theater began to fill with chatter, and the hall flooded with people. 

-- 

You were almost certain that the small side balcony that you found was not meant for you. For the stagehands, perhaps. It was littered with cigarette butts, overlooking an alley that reeked of piss and garbage. Still, it was quiet, and secluded, and it gave you the space that you needed to quietly shake apart. 

You shed far fewer tears than you thought you would, your hands grasping so tightly to the railing that you were certain the skin would become irritated beneath your gloves. You were unsure how long you had been out there, but you were certain it was well past intermission. 

“There you are.” 

The interruption nearly scared you out of your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, tightening your hold on the railing. 

“You shouldn’t be out here.” 

“Neither should you,” Mr. Russell argued. 

“Who is watching the children?” 

“Mrs. Fane is looking after them.” 

Well. That was a small relief—but it was certain to get back to Mrs. Russell, and Mrs. Van Rhijn.  

“Are you well?” Mr. Russell plied, and a strangled laugh escaped your throat. 

“I will be fine in a moment.” 

“The second half of the play has started.” 

“I will return presently.” 

You expected and hoped to hear the retreat of George’s feet. Instead, you heard a soft sigh, and the gentle thump of his dress shoes against the balcony’s wooden slats as he grew closer. 

“You ought to go back inside, Mr. Russell.” 

“Not until I am certain that you’re well.” 

“My wellbeing no longer any concern of yours.” 

You nearly flinched away from his hand as he rested it on your shoulder. Rather than draw it away, he slid it down a touch, turning you to face him. You kept your gaze set stalwartly on his bow tie, even as you longed to meet his eye, to try and ascertain what he may be thinking. 

“You’ve been crying,” He murmured. 

“I haven’t,” You grumbled petulantly. 

“You have. I’ve seen that look before.” He raised his hand, gently curling his gloved fingers under your chin and tipping it up. You glanced away still, stubborn in your upset. 

“For the sake of our families,” He said softly, “Might we put this quarrel behind us?” 

“I have no quarrel with you.” 

He sighed again, tipping his head into your gaze. You were desperate to look away, but his dark, knowing eyes held to yours, and you were powerless to draw yourself from it. 

“We were young,” He insisted, “And we were lied to. I am sorry my reception of you was so cold when we first met in New York. I did not know any better.” 

The words made your lower lip tremble, a fresh wave of tears springing up in your eyes. He let you pry your chin from his grip and turn your head then, reaching into his pocket and proffering his handkerchief. You took it with mumbled thanks, dabbing at your eyes. 

“And I am sorry that my mother acted as she did,” You managed after a few moments. 

“You’ve nothing to apologize for. You couldn’t know.” 

“I should’ve suspected,” You shook your head. “I should’ve known. I should’ve tried harder to find you.” 

He made no argument, simply watched as you dried your eyes before you held the handkerchief back out to him. He waved you off lightly, and you drew it back to yourself, balling the fabric up in your hands. 

“Would you like for me to call for your carriage?” He offered. 

“No! No,” You shook your head. “Eleanor would insist on coming with me—She’d be devastated if we left before the play ended.” You sniffled softly, rolling your shoulders back and forcing a neutral expression. “Go on back inside. I’ll be there in a moment.” 

“If you’re not, I’ll come and get you myself.” 

The warning was a teased one, and you were stunned to find Mr. Russell smiling at you, just a little. You were stunned that it made you smile, too. 

“Go on,” You urged again, nodding him back toward the door. He turned, giving you one last look before leaving. You took the chance and the quiet to raise the handkerchief, blowing your nose properly. Lord above, could it truly be that simple? Things between yourself and Mr. Russell would never be the same, but perhaps you could step forward together in this way, with mutual respect, mutual understanding, and a true mutual want for the well being of one another, and your families. 

It seemed almost too good to be true. 

--  

“Did you enjoy the play?” Marian plied.

“I did,” You nod before nodding toward where Eleanor had fallen asleep on you with the swaying of the carriage, “And Eleanor did as well. Thank you again for extending the invitation.” 

“Not at all,” Marian smiled. It was a moment before she offered, “Mr. Russell said that you had a slight headache at intermission.” 

A good cover. You would have to thank him for that later. “I did,” You fibbed, “The excitement of the theater overwhelmed me, I think.” 

“And you’re quite well now?” 

“I am. Mr. Russell was kind to check on me.” 

Marian nodded, but in the low light of the carriage, there was a look in her eye that you just couldn’t place. Whatever it was, it disappeared as the carriage hit a rough patch in the road, jolting Eleanor awake. 

“Are we home yet?” She mumbled, and you smiled. 

“Nearly, darling.”

“Oh…Wake me when we are?” 

“No. I’ll leave you to sleep in the carriage.” 

“Auntie,” She groaned, burrowing more deeply into your shoulder, and raising a hand to plug her ear as you and Marian laughed. 

--  

“Father?” 

“Mm?” George turned back to look at Larry as he passed his hat off to Church. 

“You’re certain she was quite well?” 

“Yes,” George said firmly. Larry had asked him twice before in the carriage, and he was beginning to grow weary of his prodding. “She merely had a headache from the excitement.” 

“It seems rather a small thing to incite such a reaction.” 

“There are some things, Larry, that you and I are used to that she is not.” 

“I suppose,” Larry conceded, looking down as he removed his gloves. “She seemed in far better a mood when she returned.” 

“I had an attendant fetch her some water. The headache abated.” 

“That’s a relief. I was certain she would want to leave.” 

“She said that she didn’t want Eleanor to miss the play.” 

“She is quite kind.” 

“...She is,” George nodded, lowering his hand to absently pat the pocket that was now missing its handkerchief. “Thank you for joining us, of course.” 

“I was happy to.” 

“I hope Miss Brook enjoyed herself?” George tacked on with a knowing smile. It widened as Larry cleared his throat and turned his head briefly, his ears going red with embarrassment. 

“I believe she did. Excuse me—Goodnight, father.” 

“Goodnight, Larry,” George chuckled softly. He turned away, not making it a point to watch his son go. As he headed for his room, he couldn’t help but pat the pocket where his handkerchief had been. She still had it. That was hardly a crime, but the monogrammed piece of cloth could draw questions. It was a folly to leave it with her. If she was seen with it—

No, of course she wouldn’t be. She was surely too careful, too wise and world-weary to allow herself to be seen with it. Her first instinct when he’d appeared to comfort her had only been for the children, not for her own well-being. He admired that about her. He could see it now—where she had lost or chosen to give up her chance, she was trying to give Eleanor every opportunity, every comfort. 

It was commendable. She’d grown into a kind, beautiful, clever woman. 

He sighed softly as Watson helped him to ready for bed. 

“Is something on your mind, sir?” Watson plied carefully. George shook his head a touch. 

“I suppose my mind is still on the play,” He admitted. “And how one’s heart and mind can change.”

Tag list: @foxilayde ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @amneris21 ; @nominalnebula ; @missredherring

[pcssionfrt]

hi hello! name's juve and it's been idk how long since i've been on tumblr so Pardon Me if i make any mistakes. anyway here's riye, your new student representative for evolution! movement. pls see below the cut for a brief tldr on her among other things! also plsplspls smash that like for plots 🤩 !! my ims no longer work(?) so until tumblr decides to respond to my ticket please add me on disc it's @ obiiive

bounced from home to home since young, stability was not a concept known till the age of 10, where she was adopted (this time, for good), packed up and moved to seoul. suddenly—new kid on the block.

objectively, she should feel glad, should be grateful, blessed to have a home to call her own, allowed to keep her own identity, her surname, her things. subjectively, riye hated the neighborhood. hated her classmates. her teacher. elderly neighbor. nosy woman at the register in the local grocers. just about everybody—give or take two (specifically, her parents). though even that gradually morphed when her anomaly started rearing its head.

the kwons were ordinary. human. religion leaning. simple. dash of impulsiveness that had them adopting a child twenty years into their marriage. did they realize that they were signing on for more than they could handle? no. did they regret it? maybe no. when their adopted daughter showed signs of an anomaly, what else was there to do but to accept her? yeah. live in fear.

fractures begins somewhere in her teens, squeezed in between the conflicts of hormones and a growing body. her parents are different now. riye is different now. but the three live under pretenses all the same. that nothing’s changed, that mom’s hand doesn’t tremble when she braids her hair. it wasn’t as if they weren't nice either—so what is there for her to say? what else was she to do except loathe them and herself and the sanctified marble face of dear lord and father of mankind, i pray you help our daughter every friday evening and sunday morning.

sua was the obvious choice. riye doesn't bat an eye when they pitch it to her. when mom cries, overjoyed at the sight of nullivi. when dad hands her pamphlets to the neighborhood church. when they leave, she crumbles; the feeling in her chest full and hollow at the same time.

CAMPUS LIFE: ????? grossly wip sorry

PERSONALITY

chronic self-hating people pleaser. help me help you help her by not getting Too involved. very prone to switching up on people (i.e. saying yes then gaslighting you for making her say yes). has unaddressed anger issues but also bad abandonment issues, overall her parents raised her to be a sweet christian girl and riye will do everything in her power to emulate it till she implodes or smth. in short: nice but not very sincere.

WANTED

“the friends she shows her parents” — essentially nice looking non-threatening people that she hangs out with, documents in photos and name drops to show her parents. preferably with normie anomalies as to not spook them. riye has nothing against them, but there’s underlying disgust for anything associated to her parents (even if she’s the one putting them in the situation). note: often leaves group hangouts w/o saying bye. walks right by you on campus like she’s never seen you before. doesn’t bother remembering the big things but will remember little things (food preferences, allergies) so you’re ? does she or doesn’t she care /:

“the (ex) boyfriend she shows her parents” — the first and only boy she’s introduced to her parents. idk yall probably broke up a while back because of how much her parents loved you (and she did, also, some kind of l word you) and it gave her the ick. v likely did not tell her parents yall broke up. note: constantly, and i mean constantly, gaslighted you. Did apologize when she realized but yk, damage done is damage done.

overall: friends she actually likes, former friend/exes who thinks she’s fake af, exes/fwbs/the works. i preference deeper connects over shallow surface relationships and i’m down to write anything from dark and saucy to crack!

[heich0e]

wait if you said that you're gonna stop the oopsy baby series 'for now' are you implying that you're gonna continue it at some point in the future or....? 🤨

I've gotten way more asks about this than I expected, and I won't reply to them all to spare your dash (since they mainly address the same things) but in the interest of transparency here are the highlights:

1. Are you going to continue the mini megumi series? /post any other parenthood fics?

I honestly don't know. I was going to add more to this reply but I've just been staring at the screen for like 10 minutes.

2. Why?

A couple of reasons, but if I'm being really honest I saw a lot of mutuals (who I sincerely like and respect, present tense) posting about how much they dislike parenthood/pregnancy fics and how sick they make them feel and it just didn't feel good.

I want to be really really clear that I TRULY and wholeheartedly believe that everyone is entitled to like what they like, and dislike what they dislike. But the problem is that when you express those opinions while disparaging the people whose opinion are different from yours, or if you choose to be vocal about your dislike of something when you see someone enjoying it, it can be really hurtful. It made me feel uncomfortable about continuing the series if I knew people felt that way and I was possibly upsetting them.

3. Is it because of the "exclusionary" ask?

No! This all happened before I received (or at least saw) that ask. And while I do completely and totally understand where that anon was coming from, and I support them 100% in sharing that very valid criticism with me, the fic probably wouldn't have changed because of it—though I would have started putting a tag in the updates alerting readers to the fact that Kota is described at multiple points throughout the story as being identical to Megumi in case it was sensitizing/alienating/in any way offensive to them.

The inspiration for the fic was that a child who is virtually identical to him shows up at his doorstep, and the entire series is predicated on that idea. I should have made that much clearer at the outset and I really apologize for my oversight and to anyone who I hurt by being careless in that way. I have since gone back and edited each instalment to feature a warning about this in the header, and hope that people who will feel excluded by this plot point can make whatever decision feels best for them in regards to engaging with the fic!

4. I don't like you.

Me neither.

5. I love parenthood fics and I think you should keep writing them.

I also like parenthood fics, and I think they're fun to write! And this is coming from someone who isn't even sure they ever want to have kids themselves. But sort of nodding back to point 2, I don't want to post any kind of fic that people who i consider friends begin vocally posting about disliking. Especially because I really don't follow that many people, so when every third post on my dash is dunking on the trope I'm actively posting about, it just makes me feel kind of sad and unwelcome.

This is absolutely NOT intended to be an indirect/vague about those moots, and if you're reading this I hope you know that I mean that from the BOTTOM of my heart. They are JUST as entitled to this space as I am, and I am in no way at all trying to impose myself and my opinions onto them. I just don't know how to filter anti-trope content from my user experience without inadvertently also filtering the content I DO want to see, and if I'm being honest I just don't think it's not worth losing mutuals who I really like over.

I'm saying all of this with nothing but love, and I hope that no one is too upset about it. I'm sorry if you were enjoying the series and now aren't sure about its future. I'm sorry if me expressing the way I was hurt makes you feel bad too. I'm really logging off now for a bit, and I hope you all take care of yourselves!! Be good, sending love, talk soon <3

[edogawa-division]

It was late in the evening when Kaoru was called out of her lab for the umpth time today. Of course, she was pretty much used to it at this point. After all, unlike other days, today was her birthday. Normally, her mother and younger sister didn't bother her unless it was important. But today was not one of those days since a multitude of gifts was not waiting for Kaoru in the family's living room, which put a huge grin on the birthday woman's face.

The first was a video game. One known as Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon, a rather old game that recently got a remake. Though it came out a year ago, it was still fairly new and popular, especially among action fans. Tapped to the back of it was a note, which read:

'Dear Kaoru,

Happy birthday! Hope it's going really well for you! I heard from Kanra that you got a giant robot for your birthday?! For reals?! You're so lucky! You have to promise to let me ride it sometime! Anyway, speaking of giant robots, I bought this game for you. The reviews on it are pretty good, but I wouldn't know since I've not played it yet. But let me know how it is so I can try it out! Happy birthday again!

Sincerely,

Zakari

P.S. I'm serious about that giant robot ride.'

Giving a slight chuckle, Kaoru put the game aside, turning to her next gift.

It was a flower terrarium, full of various flowers, but mainly orchids. Though it was a glass, Kaoru could still smell the plants. Thankfully, they weren't intoxicating like most flowers, and still smelled good. Though she could already guess who they were from, the birthday woman read the note that came with the gift anyway...

'Dear Kaoru-chan,

A most wonderful and joyous happy birthday to you. I was informed by Yuriko-san that today was your day of birth so I decided to make this for you. This was my first attempt at making a terrarium, so I hope I did a fairly decent job. I chose mainly orchids, because I believe they symbolize you very much in that they signify creativity, strength and beauty, three attributes I feel suit you perfectly. I hope your birthday is going well, and I pray you have many more. Happy birthday once again, my dear.

Sincerely,

Shisuta Heisha'

Finishing the note, Kaoru gave a sigh and a shake of her head, as this meant she'd have to find someplace in her room or lab to put this thing. Still, she couldn't fault Shisuta for thinking of her, even though she wished she gift her something other flowers for a change. Putting the terrarium to the side, she turned to the last and largest gift and had high hopes for it, hoping it was what she thought it was. And thankfully, her hopes weren't dashed.

It was a birthday cake, which got a birthday smile out of the birthday woman, who couldn't wait to taste it. Taped to the box was a letter, which read:

'Dear Kaoru,

Happy birthday once again to you. I hope it's going well. My apologies for sending this to you so late, but work has been long and hard. But that's still no excuse. Regardless, I hope this cake makes up for it. Enjoy, and see you and your family soon.

Sincerely,

Luis Kōkyū

P.S. You have Kanra-chan to thank for the anime figures on the cake.'

“Oh let’s go! More cake!” Kaoru threw her hands in the air excitedly. Luis never disappointed in his cakes and score! It was even themed after one of her favorite mecha anime!

“Kaoru it’s far too late to be eating that much sugar don’t you think?” Yuriko questioned a single eyebrow raised as she watched both her daughters eye the cake much like a predator would eye their prey.

“Yuriko please!”

“Just one slice!”

Yuriko’s lips twitched, finding the sight of Kaoru and Kanra begging just a bit amusing. She was gonna let them have a slice anyway she just found teasing them too good to pass up, especially after the mess that was the backyard a few hours ago. Oh. That was an idea.

“Fine one slice anymore, and the two of you will be bouncing all around the house all night.” Yuriko walked over to one of the drawers, pulling out a knife, utensils, and plates. “I’d like for you to go to bed at normal times for once, especially you, Kaoru.”

Slicing into the cake, Yuriko cut two pieces, one for each of the two gremlins, and placed them on a plate. Kaoru and Kanra, excited for a slice, didn't notice the mischievous smile on their adoptive mother’s face and were entirely unprepared for when Yuriko smashed the cake slices into their faces.

“Ah!”

“Nani the fuck?”

“Hahahaha!” Yuriko laughed as she watched the two of them wipe the cake and frosting off their faces. “Maybe now you two will think twice about destroying my backyard. Now clean yourself up, and then you can have your one slice you two.”

[wintercrystal]

Together with You

Venti x Reader

AN: Hi, this was supposed posted on Christmas but stuff happened. So Happy holidays and Happy New Year wherever you are. (This is also my first fanfic so yeah, take it as you will.)

Note: Fluff, Reader is referred Dantalion and implied? to be a god, Venti might be OOC, mentions of alcohol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snowflakes danced as you hummed gently, filling the silence in the air. Dragonspine during the season is simply perfect for a festive atmosphere. You could see the snowmen, smell the festive treats, and hear the carols and the wind’s laughter.

Wait…

Wind’s laughter?

“Ehe~”

You recognize that voice 

You open your eyes and meet with a green figure jumping onto you, then instantly clinging to a koala, (whatever that is). 

Hugging him back to make sure he doesn’t fall (and not be the reason he gets incredibly annoying and whining about being dropped). You let out a sigh.

The Anemo Archon, The god of freedom, Barbatos, your dearest Venti, is currently squeezing to death. How you missed him and his near-death hugs.

“Venti?” you questioned.

He didn’t respond but instead, look at you in a daze.

“Venti!” 

“I heard you the first time, Windblume. I was just enraptured by your beauty within this snowy atmosphere.”

“Really?” 

“Yes!” He giggled, putting his forehead on yours.

You just hugged him tighter, feeling his warmth.   

“Huh, you sure missed me, didn’t you?” he teased. Instead, of teasing him back, as he expected, you answered honestly.

“Of course I did Snowdrop.”

Venti choked up, blushing but quickly composed himself. “You know how to fluster a bard, you know.”

“I’m aware” you sighed, kissing him on the cheek then noticed something in his hands.

“Is that a bottle of dandelion wine?”

“Mhm, bought straight from Angel’s Share. ”

“...” You stare at him with scepticism. 

“I didn't steal them! After all these years together, you doubt my sincerity,” Venti said, feigning hurt in his voice as climbed off you.

You grab his hands, warm against your cold ones. You let out a sigh.

“Snowdrop, it’s not that I doubt you. It’s that I’m surprised that all.”

“What’s the problem with bringing my favourite wine to share my dearest?

“Nothing but… Dandelion wine costs a lot and you...” you teased.

Venti lets a huff as he turns his head, mumbling ‘I did pay for it, thank you very much’.

You chuckled, then tugged him into you, hugging and feeling his warmth. 

 “Sorry. How about, as an apology, how about we go home and have some hot cocoa, mmh?” you asked sweetly. Ah-hah! This had caught Venti’s attention. He pulled out of your grip and tugged you, in the direction of your home.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go Windblume!”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As night falls, Venti listens to howling winds outside, as you brought  

“Here you go.” 

Venti took a sip of it and smiled at you

“You made my favourite,” He said softly. You returned the smile.”Only for my favourite bard during the festive seasons.”

“Well, since I’m your favourite bard, surely my dear muse, you have- 

“Don’t worry, since I have more, in storage.”

 Venti’s eyes lit up as jumped to and gave you a peck on your lips, before dashing off.

Touching lips and staring off into space, you thought ‘I wonder how long it will be before I have to drag him to bed.’

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Huh… you really helped yourself, didn’t you Snowdrop” you sighed, dragging, carrying him to bed.  

“Hehe… Windblummme~” Venti giggled, leaning on you as you. He smiled up at you as if he didn’t just drank most of your wine. 

You sighed as you tucked him into bed, then started to caress his hair. 

“Snowdrop, how do you feel?   

“Hehehehe, good, really good~”

“That’s good, now move over.”

You climbed into the bed, and laid down next to him 

Immediately he start to cling on to you and started to slur.

“Hmm, Windblume, you’re cold! Let me wrap you up”

He began to (messily) wrap in your blanket. 

“Thank you, Venti."

Then silence.

.

.

.

.

“Windblume, will you stay with me for the rest of our lives together?”

“Of course, my love.” 

“*Hic* So marry me~

“Snowdrop, we’re already married”

“Even better~”

“Please go to sleep.”  

“Hmm, only if you hum. I heard you humming our song earlier… So… Could you hum it again, Dantalion?"

You sighed lovingly.

“Okay, Barbatos.”