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yearningandpatheticaboutit · 2 years

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SPEAK FOR YOURSELF

CHAPTER 4: CAN YOU HANDLE IT?

word count: 6458

warnings: death mention, abuse mention, slight violence

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San

I'm surprised to find my bed empty when the next morning rolls around. It's made, the entire kitchen is clean, and there's a freshly made egg on the counter with two pieces of sausage. On it there's a note. I scowl when I realize she tore off a piece of paper from one of my Chemistry worksheets to write it.

Just a little thank you for giving in and letting me join. Don't go back on your word. — Y.

She nearly cleans my whole apartment and bakes me breakfast as a thank you for letting her into drug dealing? As if this is going to make me forget who I'm being blackmailed by.

I sigh begrudgingly and take the plate. I check the time on my phone and it's seven am. She must have gotten up early to do all this if she managed to leave without even making a peep.

My brain wracks as I sit down by my work desk and start eating the egg. It tastes good, not burnt and I couldn't have made it better myself. I hate myself for enjoying it. It makes me feel defeated, like I didn't fight hard enough.

Don't get soft, San. She's a hazard. Remember you're better off alone.

The voice in my head is right. As soon as I get enough money, I'll give her a large portion just so she'd disappear. I don't need another insane woman blackmailing me. I already have enough on my plate.

My phone rings and I see Mrs Myers name flashing on my screen. I slam my head against the counter. My chemistry teacher. I know exactly why she's calling.

I missed school. And a test.

When my ringtone dies down I see two messages pop up.

Mrs Myers: Good morning, Mr Choi. Is everything alright?

Mrs Myers: You missed your test. Please remember that a medical certificate is required to qualify for the make-up test. Come to my office as soon as possible to discuss your status and whether or not you will be taking the test. Have a good day.

Medical certificate? All I have is bruises on my face and evidence of what the 105ths did to me for my inability to deliver. I'm not looking forward to dealing with all of this when I get to school.

My phone lights up again. I groan louder.

Y: Did you get your breakfast?

I ignore the message and suddenly feel listless. I studied forever for that chemistry test and didn't even get the chance to write it. I have pills that need disposing of and I'm being blackmailed by some rich girl so she can run away to Europe. My life is just great.

I get ready for school wearing my mood on my face, because I can't be bothered to look like a model student today. I have to beg Mrs Myers so I can retake my test and then get around to all my classes to apologize and catch up.

Day in the life of being the "perfect" student.

When I arrive at school, no one is there yet. I always come early to get my "business" out of the way and to study in the library. I head through my familiar route across the parking lot when I see her.

Yaera is smoking against the wall when she spots me, her brown eyes brightening with a mischevious glint as she smiles. I scowl as she immediately makes her way towards me, my mood plummeting by the second.

It's not that I hate her. I don't know her. I don't want to know her. Ever. I can tell she's a problem and that we're worlds apart and I'd rather stay safely away than collide. I know if we do, it will be disastrous. It already is.

I walk faster so she can't catch up, but she persists. "San!" She calls. "Wait up!"

I don't wait. Eventually I feel a pull on my bag and whirl around with frustration. I have so much on my plate and her happiness and casual demeanor just pisses me off.

"What do you want?" I snap at her. Her face falls for a second but quickly recovers as she plasters a shit-eating smirk on her face.

"Hey come on... why so grumpy? Were the eggs not good enough?" She attempts to joke. I don't laugh at all.

I can tell she's not serious about this. Sure she gave me 4k, but that could just be sob-story to get me to feel something for her. I let out a joyless laugh as I look down at her. "What the fuck do you think this is?" I ask her lowly.

Her dark brown eyes widen, her strong cheekbones poking out as she does. "What do you mean?" She asks innocently. She doesn't even get it and that pisses me off further.

"Don't talk to me at school," I tell her coldly. "And stop trying to play house. Because you and me? We're not friends. And we never will be, so quit your bullshit."

Her plump, dark pink lips frown as her eyes quickly lose the jump they had when they saw me. Good. "So what? You'd rather have us be hostile? How do you expect me to reach you?"

"Don't reach out to me. I'll reach out to you when I actually need you. And yes I'd rather you not fucking pretend to be happy around me because frankly, it pisses me off."

She scoffs and forces a laugh, taking a long drag of her cigarette. She tosses it to the floor and kills it with a hard stomp before glaring up at me. I hate the smell, it gives me awful flashbacks.

"You know what? I'm not gonna be as miserable as you. If you woke up in a shit mood, whatever, don't fucking take it out on the entire world, Choi San. I'll talk to you when you don't have your head up your ass," she says sharply before turning on her heel and stomping off.

I grind down on my teeth and harshly rub my face as I watch her dark red head disappear around the school building. Maybe you shouldn't have been so harsh.

Shut up, brain. Just shut it. You already said what you said. Besides, she's the girl who happens to be blackmailing me. I think I'm allowed to be pissed for as long as I want.

I breathe heavily in the middle of the parking lot, just trying to stay calm. It's going to be a long day... I shouldn't make things worse.

"Hey, dimples!" Someone yells. I see Yeosang coming from the other side of the parking lot, a wide grin on his face. Great, another idiot.

The short, ash blonde-headed guy takes my hand eagerly. "Where you been, man? I heard you weren't in school yesterday," his eyes widen when he comes closer to my face. "Damn you look like shit. Who did that?"

I sigh heavily. "There anything you need, Yeosang?"

He's nearly jumping in his skin, a loud laugh bubbling out of him. "That's why I like you, my dear Lazarus. Always straight to business. I happen to want some of your business now that you mention it."

I clean my teeth in annoyance. "I already told you I don't sell at school. You have my number and I told you where to find me if you wanna meet up."

Your greed is also the whole reason I got caught, you fucking loser.

"Come on!" He whines. "Please... I didn't expect them to be that good. Rosie Posies, right? Can't you just give me one more bag?"

"No," I firmly say. The rich kids at this school never take kindly to that word, but Yeosang will have to endure. "I don't even have anything on me. What am I supposed to do?"

Yeosang rubs his face with a groan, then his face lightens up as if he discovered something awesome. "It's my birthday next week, you know that right?"

"Why would I know when your birthday is?"

"Damn, you're such a rude asshole, Lazarus. I'm trying to invite you to my birthday party. If you wanna be a good friend and get me a real good present, bring a whole bag of Rosies."

Yaera's words ring in my head. She mentioned a party of his. How convenient.

"You know that's gonna be a shit ton of money, right?" I drawl. "Rosies aren't cheap."

Yeosang nods eagerly. "Of course I'd never underpay you. I'm not Jeff Bezos, Lazarus. Just make sure you bring me what I want and we'll both be happy."

"Then it's a deal."

Yeosang nearly jumps from excitement, his short and buff frame like an energized chihuahua. I think he's about to run off, but he slaps his hand on my shoulder like we're best friends.

"You know what, you're cool, Lazarus Choi. I'll give you a piece of advice, ditch the concubine, why don't you?" He says suddenly.

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. "What?"

"I saw you talking to Marino," he sighs and clicks his tongue. "I get it man, she has that bad girl vibe. But you're really not her type. If you really want chicks, I can get you into good books at my party. You're kinda handsome when you don't look like you ate a lemon."

"What do you mean I'm not her type?" Not that I'm worried about that, it's just a very specific warning.

Yeosang chuckles mockingly. "Oh you don't know? Man, where have you been the past few years? Don't you know she prefers older guys?"

A strange feeling washes over me at Yeosang's mocking tone. I don't know what it is but I dismiss it immediately. My curiosity gets the better of me. I want to know more about Yaera without her lying.

"Explain what you mean," I demand. Yeosang makes an immature 'ooo' sound.

"Holy shit, are you two dating? Damn so you really don't know. A year ago this picture of her went viral coming out of a motel with some older guy. His face was hidden though, but hers wasn't. Word spread around like hellfire. It was fucking hilarious. Then all the pictures just got deleted off the internet one day. Must be her PR team."

I don't laugh along with him, maybe because I'm so surprised. I didn't expect that at all. I know so little about her and yet she knows enough about me to damn me. That doesn't sit well with my soul.

I eye Yeosang determinedly. "Do you still have the picture?"

***

Yeosang promises to email it to me before the school day ends as he kept it in an encrypted file on his hard drive. I feel somewhat uneasy about getting the picture, but my head convinces me that I need dirt on her the way she has dirt on me. If the picture was removed from all sites, that meant it had power to damage. I needed insurance.

I'm on my way to Mrs Myers class by third period and already prepared to lie my ass off. I'm going to blame my dad, like I always do because it's easy to blame a ghost, someone who's never around to defend themselves.

Also an easy way to induce pity because Mrs Myers also happens to be the Guidance Counselor.

I knock on her door and peer through the glass, seeing her tapping away at her computer. Her brown eyes light up when she sees me, ushering me in with her hand.

"Goodmorning, Mrs Myers," I say and almost bow. "Uh...you wanted to see me."

"Yes, of course, San. Sit down," she gestures to the chair infront of her desk. I take my bag off and hold it infront of my chest as I awkwardly sink into my seat.

"You had me worried sick," she tells me. "You never miss school. I thought maybe you had gotten kidnapped."

I force a laugh. It's always weird to have adults worry when you're around none all the time. No good adults anyway.

Mrs Myers is a kind lady who kind of always gets taken advantage of. Being a teacher at a private school is no joke, I've seen rich assholes insult her straight to her face and even try to get her fired, but she's like a rock at this school. Unmoving and unweathered, going nowhere unless it's her own choice.

"N-No...I had to deal with my father, Mrs Myers. He came around again," I say and cast my gaze down. It never feels good to lie.

I can feel her stare narrowing in on the marks on my face. "Oh, I'm so sorry, San. Did he do that to you? We should report him to the police, maybe they can find him."

"He'll just disappear like he always does," I say lowly. Mrs Myers is well aware of my father and his habits. She had to deal with them up until he completely fell off the radar. "That's why I couldn't come to school. I know that's not a valid reason..."

"What do you mean it's not a valid reason?" She asks pointedly, her curls bouncing as she spoke. "You got hurt and it looks like you got medical attention. That sounds valid enough for me."

My heart warms as she smiles at me. I didn't even have to beg. "Thank you so much, ma'am. For everything."

"No problem, kid. But tell me," she leans forward like I've seen the mobsters do in the movies. "I heard a rumor that you're going out with Yaera Marino. Is that true?"

My happiness is quick to dilute. What the fuck. My mouth plops open and I start stuttering pathetically.

"Where...where did..."

"The teachers lounge is full of gossip. And I've heard lots of things about the two of you. So is it true?"

I clamp my mouth shut, not even knowing what to say. I don't want to sound like a loser and admit I've never had a girlfriend before. But something

about Yaera being known as my girlfriend infuriates me.

Mrs Myers sighs at me wistfully. "Oh, San. You stay out of school for one day and all of a sudden you're dating. Lots of things have changed in the past day, right? Just be careful, son."

Why am I getting so much warnings? "Be careful of what, ma'am?" I try to not let the edge creep into my voice.

"The Marino girl," she answers. "I'm sure you already know her record. It's truly sad all she has gone through. As much as I'm glad you're finally making friends, please just be cautious of the company you keep, San. Try to be a good influence on Yaera. She needs it."

I stare blankly, still not following. This is the second time I've been asked to be a good influence on her. If that isn't ironic I don't know what is.

"All she has gone through?" I dumbly question. Mrs Myers looks at me like I've grown three heads.

"Oh no, Choi San. Surely you cannot be this sheltered. You have gone to school here for four years! If you are dating this girl I hope you don't ask questions like this. You should know by now what happened to her sister."

Mrs Myers stops paying attention to my confusion and is now staring sadly at her hands. "It's a tragedy really. There is nothing quite painful like the loss of a sibling. Can you imagine a twin? Your other half that you can never get back again. Yaera used to be so bright and... then her sister went missing and... it's like her spark went out. It's saddening what grief can do to you."

A strange feeling bubbles in my stomach as Mrs Myers keeps talking. So Yaera has a twin...had. And she died.

"Does Mrs Myers know Yaera well?" I ask curiously.

Mrs Myers nods with a tender smile. "Both her and her sister, Yasmine. Those two couldn't have been more different but they fit together like the moon and the stars. Yaera used to be in AP Chemistry like you, but dropped it after her sister died."

I'm uncomfortable, I don't know why. I thought she was just some troubled rich girl looking for a thrill and dramaticized her life more than necessary. But hearing all this made her seem more... human.

I don't even think we're allowed to talk about this. I clear my throat awkwardly. "I'll make sure to talk to her then, ma'am," I say with a miniscule smile.

Mrs Myers counters with a soft smile as well. "Yes, please look out for her. She may seem uncaring but Yaera needs someone. Everyone does. Including you, San. I am glad you two found each other, I hope it will bring out the best in you both. "

Now I don't know about that. Mrs Myers eventually drifts off from the topic of Yaera and I'm rescheduled to write my test next Monday. That gives me ample time to study and hopefully I won't be bothered by any assignments over the weekend.

Just as I leave her office, I receive an attachment from an unfamiliar email. I click inside, my face dropping as I see the picture. There's a comment at the bottom, which I gather is from Yeosang. I scowl distastefully, feeling like I just ate an onion.

You really know how to pick em, Lazarus. But hey, at least she has a good set of tits.

I jog toward the stairwell and open the picture only when I'm positively alone. It's dark and mysterious, taken at night from a peculiar view. It looks like it was taken from a bush or a car parked out of view. Yaera is under the arms of some guy, smiling up at him. I almost don't recognize her.

Her hair is black in the photo, and she's only wearing a skirt and what looks like a black bikini top. The guy in the photo is taller than her, his back turned to the camera. I can tell by his build that he's older. Her eyes are pleading as if she's playfully begging, a mischevious smile on her face.

I swallow hard and close my phone. I don't even know what to make of that.

I've learnt so many things today. And yet the more I get told the less it makes sense to me. I open my phone again, going off to my browser. My last page is still on Yaera's family, but only the achievements of her parents.

I type in her sister's name and add 'death' at the end. My stomach pools with even more guilt when I start reading the first few results.

Yasmine Marino (16), daughter of the business moguls of the fashion industry, Monica Marino and Ruan Marino found at the bottom of canyon a year after she was reported missing. Police suspect foul play and have begun investigations.

I know she's Yaera's twin, but it baffles me how similar they look. Yasmine's eyes are softer, more doe-like. Their cheekbones are the same, clearly from their mother. The picture of her brings me back memories of randomly seeing her picture up in grade 10 and never thinking anything of it.

I admit, even when I looked up her parents business, I didn't dig deep. I figured a family with that much money couldn't possibly have any depth. They seemed like your typical elite family with privilege like anyone else at this school.

I read further. It says she was strangled but the fall to the bottom of the canyon killed her. She went missing after leaving a party early by herself two years ago, leaving her family and friends devastated.

I lock my phone irritably, angry at myself. I am such an asshole. I should talk to her. I don't know why I'm suddenly going soft, she's still blackmailing me but somehow I feel bad.

I text her impulsively, telling myself not to think about it.

Me: Hey

Me: Yaera???

My messages instantly go through and are opened within a minute. But no response. She's ignoring me.

Me: Do you want to walk home with me from school?

Y: No.

I'm a little embarrassed, because I know she's still mad about this morning. But I don't bring myself to apologize.

Me: It's important.

Y: Fuck off

I bite on my lip and sigh, shoving my phone back into my pocket. I'd just have to go get her myself then.

***

Yaera

I'm on my last cigarette and irritated to my core. I skipped my last period because I hate biology and now I'm seated on the bleachers, watching the lean soccer players run across the sports field with their shirts off.

My phone keeps buzzing. I don't know if it's my mother, father or even San. I don't care really, that prick ruined my entire day.

Why do you even like him?

It's annoying how full of shit he is. I gave him four thousand dollars to show him how serious I am and yet he still thinks I'm some rich bimbo. Just riding along for some kind of sick adrenaline rush. Mommy and daddy gives no attention at home so she's trying to hang out with drug dealers for validation.

I want to punch him in the face. His pretty, annoying face.

I take a long drag of my cigarette and crush it underneath my shoes before I lean back and soak up the sun. I stay relaxed until I hear footsteps approach, making me sit up to see who it is.

I groan at the sight of him. "Oh god."

Jongho's eyes shine with a glint of mischief, like he's ready to open his mouth and ruin my day. He's shirtless too for some reason, coated in sweat with his soccer shorts hanging low on his hips. I forgot this asshole played sports.

"You know, one would think you'd take care of your visuals since it's the only thing you have," he mocks me. "Cigarettes make you ugly."

"I'm guessing you must have smoked a lot then," I scoff. Jongho snorts.

"You trying to call me ugly?" He wryly says, picking up his shirt but not putting it on.

"I'm not trying, I am calling you ugly. You're the most basic man I've ever met," I say, rolling my eyes. Jongho bursts into forced laughter.

Choi Jongho is handsome, but insufferable. Therefore I will not acknowledge the former.

"You know what? Just for that I'm giving you another detention slip for skipping class and not dying your hair back," he hisses at me, starting to rummage through his bag.

I jump up from the bleachers and slowly descend a step to his level, where Jongho squares his shoulders, as if to intimidate me. He's taller, but I could definitely sweep his feet out and make him eat concrete.

We stare into each other's eyes balefully, with him wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. "You really think that stupid prefect badge makes you a cop, huh?" I sneer at him. "You're still a fucking nobody."

"Rather that than a washed up borderline dropout who only lives in the shadow of her sister's ghost," he snaps back, and without warning I drive my elbow across his face. Jongho stumbles back and holds his nose, an enraged stare consuming him before he lunges at me.

He shoves at my chest and I fall down beside the bleachers on my butt. I drive my heel into his shin and he cries out like a little bitch. I want to make another move, but I'm picked up from behind under my arms.

"What are you doing?" A deep voice sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach. San.

Don't let this asshole hypnotize you again, Yae. Remember how much of a dick he was.

I get up and shove myself off of him, glaring fiercely. San stares at me, different to his constant irritated scowl that he usually used on me. Huh. The stick must be out of his ass now.

"Oh wow, two outcasts. How romantic," Jongho laughs mockingly. A tear of blood rolls down his nose and stains his lip. San looks between us with a confused face as Jongho glares straight at me. "You're gonna pay for this, Marino."

"The bell rang," San says to him, cool and taking no shit. "You should get going."

Jongho scoffs as I let out a chuckle. "Looks like you can't give me detention anymore, asshole."

"Yeah right," he snaps. "You're fucked for Monday, bitch."

He grabs his bag and storms off in the other direction, a small crowd of his fellow players watching the scene nosily a few feet away. I turn away from them and head in the other direction, completely ignoring San.

Yeah, I can be an asshole too.

"Yaera!" He calls after me. I continue walking just like he did this morning. "Wait!"

San suddenly grabs my arm, pulling me into him, our chests touch and a warm feeling spreads across my body. I hate this, I hate that I'm so attracted to him.

I look up into his face, his pink lips catching my eye in the least subtle way. I try to keep my gaze on his eyes, but his deep, penetrative stare only makes me feel weaker. I'm begging myself to stay angry.

"Can you just... stop for a second," he asks me softly. His voice is deep and sweet, the slightly begging edge nearly sending me off the deep end.

"What is it?" I say, squeaking like an idiot.

San licks his lips and I pretend to not be affected. His jet black hair is wavy and disheveled, like he hadn't bothered to brush it after a shower.

"Yeosang talked to me this morning," he tells me. I sober up from my lust and move away from him slightly, but his grip is firm on my arm. "He invited me to his birthday party and told me to bring... the stuff."

"Oh. Are you going?" I ask. San nods.

"You need to come with me. You know those people more than me."

"So now you admit you need me," I scoff and smirk. San clenches his jaw for a second and quickly releases, thinking I don't notice.

"Fine, I will," I say when he stays silent. "But you're gonna need good clothes."

"I'll take care of it. Do you wanna come home with me? There's something I have to show you," he tells me. My stomach and chest is a mess of both nerves and feelings that are way too out of control.

I need to crush them. "What happened to not playing house?" I throw his words back at him.

San rolls his eyes. "Don't worry I'm not willingly hanging out with you. You put in the investment and now you're gonna reap from it. You wanted in, right? I got a text from my boss. I have a job tonight."

Excitement lights up my face. I try to not seem too giddy. "What type of job?"

"I'll let you know when we get to my apartment," he looks around suspiciously as if someone is listening in.

We keep walking down the driveway of the school. "I won't be able to go with you straight from school. My parents pick me up," I tell him.

"What time will you be able to come by then?"

"I'll text you."

San's lips quirk up at the mention of text, and it's not quite a smile, but he's definitely amused about something.

"Thank you for answering my messages," he says with obvious sarcasm. I smile tightly as I grip onto his arm. He's slightly surprised at the contact but doesn't shrug me off. Students look at us weirdly and I know it's because we look like an actual couple now.

"Did you really expect an answer after being an asshole?" I chuckle wryly. "You don't know me then."

"But I will," he answers, looking down at me in a way that makes me want to grab his face. For a moment I relish in our eye contact, but it quickly ends when I hear a familiar hooter.

I quickly unlock from San and move away from him, seeing the black Bentley parked outside the gates. San is confused and jogs after me, and she already has her sights on him so I can't shoo him away.

"Where are you—?" He starts but I toss him a hard look.

"I'll text you later," I say and turn away from him completely, running up to my mother's car. I wave bye quickly and slide in the back. San stands in the driveway for a few seconds and stares at us, before nodding an awkward smile and forcing a wave.

My parents, of course, don't return the wave. They wait till he disappears off the road before turning back to me.

"And who's that?" My mother asks with an edge to her voice.

"Good afternoon, mamma," I say sarcastically. "Nice to see you as well."

"Don't start with the attitude, Yaera," my father warns. "Answer your mother."

"It's just some guy from my history class," I groan and slump back into my seat. "Hes just a friend, don't worry about it."

"How old is he?" My mother interrogates. I sigh.

"My age. They wouldn't let older people into Mountain Creek, ma."

"Were those bruises on his face?" My father asks, squinting. "He looks like trouble."

"He isn't," I quickly defend. Well, he is but they don't need to know that.

"Whatever you say, Yaera," my mother blandly responds. "Just keep it in your pants."

I want to let out a remark I know will get me killed, but I stay quiet before I'm grounded for life.

***

Listening to Lana Del Rey while picking out clothes is dangerous. It makes you want to pick out sexy things without even realizing it. Halfway through my packing do I figure out that half of what I intend to wear is inappropriate and San would probably kill me for it anyway.

I'm giddy just thinking about him. A little annoyed, but more intrigued than anything. I wonder what made him change his tone with me. Maybe he's finally aware of how hot I am or he's playing me. Either way, I am going to enjoy the attention while it lasts.

I've just about finished packing and on my way down when I get his text. My face involuntarily brightens at his name.

Sannie ~ : Don't forget to bring a hoodie and dark pants.

Me: Anything else you want me to pick up? Food?

Sannie~ : Just bring yourself.

I scowl and smile at the same time looking at his name. I heard one of the gangsters call him that. Sannie. I decided it was cute and that I'd keep it, though I'm sure he'd wring my neck for it. Nevermind that, I know damn well this man has nothing good in his fridge.

And I know of leftovers that are currently in mine since that dinner with Mr Fal-clowny. I tug my bag over my arm and quickly run down the stairs, hoping to miss my parents. But to my dismay when I get into the kitchen, my mother is at the counter eating ice-cream at her laptop.

Her brown eyes drift up toward me and my bag. Her sharply trimmed eyebrows raise challengingly. "And where are you going?"

Fuck. This could be a problem. "I'm going to sleepover at my friend's tonight. We're doing a history project together and it's due soon," I tell her, then attempt a smile. "Is it okay if I take some leftovers with me?"

"Don't her parents have food at home?" My mother selfishly asks. I almost chuckle at the incorrect pronoun. "And how often is this going to happen?"

"A lot, I don't know," I attempt to sound casual. Which is always a mistake in this household. "I joined a history club so this project is for that. It's going to improve my grades but there's a lot of extracurricular activity."

My mother hums in a way that tells me she doesn't believe me for a second. "Of course. Whatever you say, just make sure your activities don't get in the way of our shoot tomorrow. Remember if you miss it, you won't have it easy."

And I knew she wasn't joking for a second. I nod obediently and start rummaging for Tupperware to take food in. When I'm done, I dart out of the house before I can be questioned any further, running to catch the bus to the other side of town.

If my parents knew I took the bus, they'd probably kill me. They're against anything public and normal, anything that would give people a reason to think our family is humble and modest. If they saw me on the shadiest part of town, I have no doubt that they'd positively put me on a flight to a remote island.

And not the vacation kind.

San's apartment building is always eerily quiet, with nearly no people showing themselves. It's like no one lives here at all. And he lives on one of the highest floors, so one would think it'd be more lively but it's quite the opposite.

I get outside his door and knock, sliding off my shoes. San opens shortly, as though he'd been waiting by the door the entire time. Though his apartment is kind of small so it wouldn't take him long to answer the door.

I smile when I get inside and lift my Tupperware. "I brought some leftover Marsala, pizza and calzones. Hope you don't mind."

"I was just cooking ramen," he mutters and looks at the food with wide eyes.

"No reason we can't have it all." I stroll inside the kitchen and ramen boils on the stove. I put the Tupperware down on the counter and scan his figure.

San is wearing a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, and looks ridiculously good. His hair is loosely tousled and curling on the sides of his face, and there's a faint, natural blush on his cheeks along with the bruises on his face. It's horrendous how he can look that good.

"You look nice," I blurt. "What's the job for?"

San's cheeks go redder at my comment and I hold back a grin. I struggle to believe that a man this handsome has never been told so. "There are these shady people my boss wants me to take care of. You can come with me, but stay out of the way."

A frown settles on my face. "What if something happens to you?"

San comes up beside me and starts stirring the ramen with a wooden spoon. "I can take them. I know how to fight," he says unbotheredly. But I am very much bothered.

"What am I supposed to do then?" I question.

"Keep your mask on and don't do anything. Seriously, never speak," he warns me. "If they know you're a girl they might fuck with you in a bad way."

I shrug. "It's okay, I can fight."

San shakes his head. "But these are gangsters. Rather just don't."

"I'm just saying, I can take them."

San glances to the side at me, and I innocently bat my eyes with a smile. He has his undefinable signature stare where I can't tell what he's thinking at all.

"Where'd you learn how to fight?" He asks, surprising me.

"I did karate since I was a kid, stopped in the middle of highschool and then got my blackbelt last year."

San nods in silence, a hint of a smile on his face. I can't even tell if it's a smile or not, it's so small and barely there, only a mere quirk of his top lip.

"Where did you learn how to fight?" I return the curiousity. I can't be the only one oversharing.

San eyes the ramen again, his brown eyes trained with concentration. "The 105ths taught me since eighth grade."

"Is that how long you've been affiliated with them?" I gasp. "You were just a kid."

No answer. San carries on as if I haven't spoken and I take the hint.

I take it and discard it immediately.

"Are they forcing you into this?" I ask softly.

"Careful, it almost sounds like you care when I know you're just trying to get away from your family," he shoots me down ungracefully, still not looking at me. I bite my tongue. So close.

I don't know what to say, so I go sit down on the bed. I'm annoyed that he still thinks I'm that shallow, but I can't prove him wrong without confessing my stupid crush.

The sun starts to set and after we eat in complete silence, San stands up and goes to his room. He comes out with his crowbar and a black mask over his nose and mouth, tossing me an identical one with a black beanie.

"Put those on. And remember, no talking. Just observe. Tuck your hair into your hoodie as well," he orders.

I do what he says, my heart racing a little. This would be my first crime escapade outside of casual theft.

"I want twenty percent of whatever you make by the way," I casually say to him, but San's eyes narrow. I can tell he wants to groan.

"We'll talk about that later. Let's see if you can handle it first."

Well, that's ominous.

We leave his apartment and the cold autumn breeze blows into my eyes. The apartment building is even creepier at night, the lift extremely desolate with an unsettling tune playing in the background as we go down to the lowest level.

I watch San in the reflection of the door. His eyes are sharp, cunning and determined. His knuckles are red around as his fist clasps around his crowbar and I can't help but feel over my head here. But I can't panic now. This is what I'll have to live with to get away from this place.

He glances down at me when he sees me staring through the reflection, his eyes filled with something far off and unreachable. "Are you scared?"

I shake my head too fast. "No, why would I be?"

San scoffs and I can feel him smirking under his mask. We leave the apartment building and San leads the way through the busy and dingy streets of his neighborhood.

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newstfionline · 9 months

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Sunday, July 23, 2023

Extreme heatwaves to continue through August, WMO adviser says (Reuters) Heatwaves are expected to persist in a large part of the world throughout August, an adviser on extreme heat said on Friday, following on from record temperatures in recent weeks. The World Meteorological Organization (WMO) said earlier this week it expected temperatures in North America, Asia, North Africa and the Mediterranean to be above 40 Celsius (104 Fahrenheit) "for a prolonged number of days this week as the heatwave intensifies". "We should expect or at least plan for these extreme heatwaves to continue through August," Senior Extreme Heat Advisor for the WMO John Nairn told Reuters. Southern Europe is grappling with a record-breaking heatwave during the peak summer tourist season, prompting the authorities to warn of an increased risk of health problems and even death. Extreme weather has also disrupted the lives of millions of Americans, with dangerous heat stretching from Southern California to the Deep South. Sweltering heat has also hit the Middle East.

Why tech-savvy Sweden is banning screens in classrooms (Worldcrunch) Sweden recently announced that the country's schools will remove digital technology from classrooms because of poor student performance. Sweden is going to put the brakes on the progressive digitalization of education, the country's Minister of Education, Lotta Edholm, recently announced. Without going into details, she said the government was alarmed at Sweden's poor results in the Progress in International Reading Literacy Study (PIRLS), which found that over the past five years, Swedish children's reading comprehension skills had dropped from high to intermediate—not a catastrophic result, but worrying compared to their usual standards. Since 2013, Sweden and its Nordic neighbors have registered increasingly worse results in the PISA, when at the beginning of the century they were considered the European benchmark. Isabel Dans, professor at the University of Santiago de Compostela and researcher in Didactics and Digital Education, explains that "there is a growing trend in pedagogy when it comes to the need for handwriting and traditional reading. In Spanish schools, there is a demand for a return to paper. Children say: 'Teacher, it's better to study with paper.' This is a little-discussed reality, because it seems like it is backtracking on the large investment in digital tools made in recent years."

Spanish general election tipped to put the far right back in office for the first time since Franco (AP) Voters in Spain go to the polls Sunday in an election that could make the country the latest European Union member to swing to the populist right, a shift that would represent a major upheaval after five years under a left-wing government. Opinion polls indicate the political right has the edge going into the election, and that raises the possibility a neo-fascist party will be part of Spain’s next government. The extreme right has not been in power in Spain since the transition to democracy following the death of former dictator Francisco Franco in 1975. With no party expected to win an absolute majority, the choice for voters is basically between another leftist governing coalition or one between the right and the far right. The right-of-center Popular Party, the front-runner in the polls, and the extreme right Vox party are on one side. They portray the vote as a chance to end “Sanchismo”—a term the PP uses to sum up what it contends are the dictatorial ways of Socialist Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, the left’s radical ideology and numerous lies by the government. In the other corner are the Socialists and a new movement called Sumar that brings together 15 small leftist parties for the first time. They warn that putting the right in power will threaten Spain’s post-Franco changes.

In Belarus, the Protests Were Three Years Ago. The Crackdown Is Never-Ending. (NYT) The recent high school graduate selected her wardrobe carefully as she headed off to a summer folk festival. She dressed all in white, avoiding the color red. In Belarus, red and white are the colors of the protest movement against the country’s authoritarian leader, Aleksandr G. Lukashenko. And even the smallest sign of protest can land a person in jail. After claiming victory in a widely disputed presidential election three years ago — and violently crushing the outraged protests that followed—Mr. Lukashenko has ushered in a chilling era of repression. He is moving ever closer to his patron, President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia, positioning himself as an invaluable military ally to Russia in its war against Ukraine, but also cracking down on dissent in a way that is invisible to much of the world. Belarusian security forces are rounding up opposition figures, journalists, lawyers and even people committing offenses like commenting on social media memes or insulting Mr. Lukashenko in private conversations with acquaintances that are overheard and reported. In particular, activists and rights groups say, the country’s security forces are intent on finding and punishing the people who participated in the 2020 protests. Belarusians are getting arrested for wearing red and white, sporting a tattoo of a raised fist—also a symbol of the protest movement—or for just being seen in three-year-old photographs of the anti-government demonstrations.

Ukraine is now the most mined country. It will take decades to make safe (Washington Post) In a year and a half of conflict, land mines—along with unexploded bombs, artillery shells and other deadly byproducts of war—have contaminated a swath of Ukraine roughly the size of Florida or Uruguay. It has become the world’s most mined country. The transformation of Ukraine’s heartland into patches of wasteland riddled with danger is a long-term calamity on a scale that ordnance experts say has rarely been seen, and that could take hundreds of years and billions of dollars to undo. Efforts to clear the hazards, known as unexploded ordnance, along with those to measure the full extent of the problem, can only proceed so far given that the conflict is still underway. But data collected by Ukraine’s government and independent humanitarian mine clearance groups tells a stark story. “The sheer quantity of ordnance in Ukraine is just unprecedented in the last 30 years. There’s nothing like it,” said Greg Crowther, the director of programs for the Mines Advisory Group, a British charity that works to clear mines and unexploded ordnance internationally.

State Silence (Foreign Policy) Hundreds of women gathered in Imphal, the capital of India’s Manipur state, on Friday to protest the government’s lack of action after a mob of men stripped naked and paraded two women through the streets before gang raping them on May 4. Despite the brutal incident occurring 78 days ago, the government is only now condemning the crime due to the recent emergence of a video of the assault going viral on social media. On Thursday, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi acknowledged the violence, calling it “shameful.” The mob assault occurred amid ongoing ethnic violence between the majority Meitei community (Hindus) and the minority Kuki people (Christians) that has gripped the remote northeastern Indian state since early May. More than 130 people have died in the conflict, and another 35,000 have been displaced from their homes. The men accused of perpetrating the May 4 mob assault are Meitei, whereas the two women victims are Kuki. Until now, Modi has been hesitant to speak out for fear of criticizing his party’s rule in Manipur; the BJP holds a majority in the northeastern state. However, the violence is becoming harder to ignore. “Humanity has died in Manipur,” tweeted Indian National Congress President Mallikarjun Kharge, the BJP’s primary rival, at Modi on Wednesday. “If there is any conscience or an iota of shame left in your government, then you should speak about Manipur in the Parliament and tell the nation on what happened, without blaming others for your dual incompetence.”

‘Facekinis’ become popular in China as temperatures soar (Guardian) In scorching Beijing, “facekinis” are the hottest new fashion as surging temperatures shatter records. With the air temperature rising above 35C (95F) and the ground surface temperature soaring as high as 80C in some parts of the country, residents and visitors have taken to carrying portable fans and covering themselves up to avoid getting burnt. Some hats even have fans built in. Facekinis—full-face masks with holes for the wearer’s eyes and nose—separate sleeves to cover arms, as well as wide-brimmed hats and lightweight jackets made out of UV-resistant fabric, have become especially popular. Many female consumers in east Asia favour fair skin, and sun protection products are also popular in neighbouring countries such as South Korea.

Israelis’ last-ditch effort (Foreign Policy) Social unrest in Israel escalated on Friday over Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s refusal to retract the country’s looming judicial reform bill, which is expected to be passed by Monday. More than 1,100 Israeli military reservists said they will end their voluntary service to protest the government’s plan. Hundreds of demonstrators took to the streets on Thursday after Netanyahu vilified what he called protesters’ “absurd” scare tactics during a televised address. And Israeli journalists are warning of a “military coup” if Netanyahu continues his assault on an independent court system.

Kenya protests (ABC News) Six people were killed by police in Kenya on Wednesday as protests against a gas tax hike are scheduled to continue on through the rest of the week. Called by opposition leader Raila Odinga, the three-day nationwide protests saw a dozen more people injured, with 87 demonstrators arrested on Wednesday alone. The issue that sparked the protests was a bill signed into law last month by Kenyan President William Ruto, which doubled fuel taxes from 8% to 16%. The law is aimed at putting a dent in Kenya’s significant external debts, but experts project it will take a heavy toll on the average person in Kenya, raising the prices of most goods and services as well as increasing economic strains on a populace already struggling with a relatively high cost of living.

Belief in God, the devil falls (The Hill) Americans’ belief in God, the devil and other spiritual entities has fallen to a new low, according to a Gallup poll released on Thursday. Seventy-four percent of Americans said they believe in God, while 69 percent said they believe in angels and 67 percent said they believe in heaven, the poll found. Slightly smaller shares—59 percent and 58 percent—said they believe in hell and the devil. Since the pollster first began collecting survey data on the subject more than two decades ago, belief in God and heaven has dropped 16 points, while belief in hell has fallen 12 points and belief in the devil and angels has decreased by 10 points. The Gallup poll was conducted May 1-24 with 1,011 U.S. adults and had a margin of error of 4 percentage points.

#headlines #news

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goodthoughts001 · 1 year

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MAH CHANG: THE GAME AND ITS HISTORY slot deposit pulsa tanpa potongan

Some three thousand years ago, according to the legend, there was a fisherman named Sze who lived on the shores of the slot deposit pulsa tanpa potongan. There were many fishermen who lived about the shores of East Chien Lake, but Fisherman Sze was more enterprising than the rest, for he decided that more fish could be caught from a boat than by standing on the shore.

Sze's family had considerable wealth and they backed him in the purchase of several boats. Then he employed a hundred fishermen from other villages and started out to try his luck. All went well until the wind began to blow and then Sze's troubles began, for all of the fishermen were 'land' fishermen and unaccustomed to the rolling seas. They became seasick and had to be taken ashore.

It looked like bad joss to this early Izaak Walton, so a family council was held and it was decided that seasickness was merely a matter of the mind - imagination if you please - therefore the thing to do was to devise some method for getting the men's minds off their mal de mer. Fisherman Sze and his nine brothers then thought long and seriously, and the result was a game which they called Mah Diau.

So there you have the origin of 'Mah Chang,' 'Mah Choh,' 'Mah Jongg,' 'Mah Diao,' 'Mah Juck,' 'Pe Ling,' 'Mah Cheuk,' or whatever you desire to call this game of the ancient Chinese which has taken America by storm and which is being 'taken up' in London, Paris, and other world centres, not to overlook Chicago and Hannibal, Missouri, and other points west. The game of Mah Diau, as originally played by the lowly fishermen in the employ of head-fisherman Sze, consisted of one hundred and eight pieces of cardboard and was played by four persons, and each held thirteen cards even as to-day is the practice in Shanghai, New York, and Washington, D. C. And according to the legend the fishermen became so absorded in the game of Mah Diau that they forgot their seasickness, and as a result Sze and his nine brothers prospered and founded a great family which lives even unto this day.

From this humble beginning the Ingatbola88 game 'caught on' and next we hear of one Chen Yu-mun, an officer in the imperial Chinese army who was also stationed at Ningpo, the provincial metropolis of Chekiang Province of China.

General Chen's chief job was that of bandit-catcher and his army was known far and wide because of the white caps which they wore. But General Chen was sorely worried because of the habit of his soldiers of falling asleep during the wee sma' hours of the night, at which times the bandits would slip through the lines and hold up trains, or whatever the means of conveyance were in those days.

Hearing of the wonderful game of Mah Diau, which was so fascinating that fishermen forgot to get seasick while playing it, he possessed himself of several sets and tried them out on his night guards. It worked moderately well; but due probably to the fact that soldiers, even in those days, were more blasé than simple fisherfolk, General Chen still had trouble, for some of his soldiers persisted in falling asleep when they should have been watching for bandits.

After great meditation the General solved the problem by inventing some new cards: chung (red), fah (green), pah (white), and north, south, east, and west. This brought the number of cards up to one hundred and thirty-six, and never again, says the story-teller, did General Chen have trouble with his soldiers falling asleep. They stayed awake all night and he is reported to have had trouble thereafter in pursuading them to go to sleep. They wanted to play the new game all the time.

As time went on, continues the chronicler, certain persons of low repute, gamblers they were called, took up the game and by means of the simple little cards took away the wages of the fishermen and soldiers. But the gamblers also made their contribution to progress, for it is said in the records that a famous exponent of profit by change, one Chang Shiu-Mo by name, also of the village of Ningpo, found that the number of cards was not sufficient. So he added some more: spring, summer, autumn, and winter, and Mei (plum blossom), lan (orchid), ruh (chrysanthemum), and chuk (bamboo). This made the game so terribly fascination that it spread to the far boundaries of the Celestial Empire, and has continued to this present day to be the chief method of recreation for officials and persons of the upper classes, and even into the lair of the bandits of Paozuku, who have found their diversion in the click and play of the little ivory and bamboo tiles as they move deftly from hand to hand about the table.

There isn't much more to the history. Later on some enterprising manufacturer made a set from bamboo, and then his competitor across the street, remembering the white-capped soldiers, of the Ningpo legend, added white-bone or ivory caps to the bamboo; and thus we come to the modern days when the dull pages of the Chinese Maritime Customs returns are made more interesting by items telling of unbelievably large cargoes of this interesting Chinese game being exported to foreign countries by fast steamers.

Then the trouble began, - there is always trouble in every story of achievement, - for it developed that it is one thing to start a 'craze' and an entirely different matter to supply the wherewithal to supply the craze. Orders began coming to China for sets of this Chinese game, and the Chinese manufacturer looked up from his workbench, where he was turning out 'characters,' 'bamboos,' and 'circles,' all deftly but slowly done by hand in the manner of his fathers, and said, 'No can do,' and went back to his work.

Chinese manufacturers had been making this game for centuries, and they saw no reason for changing methods which the fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers to the nth generation had found successful. Furthermore, there was a scarcity of labor. Each shop or 'factory' contained from a dozen to thirty workers, and each shop did one thing: that is, one shop sawed the bone into squares and another did the engraving, while still another sawed the bamboo, and so on through a maze of operations which through the centuries had slowly produced perfection.

So why change the system just because a lot of crazy foreigners wanted to play a Chinese game? And then there was another problem as expressed by one dealer, 'No can get plenty bones.' It seems that the white-bone faces on the tiles can only be made from a small section (about seven inches in length of the shin bone of the cow, and China's cows, long accustomed to supplying a certain proportion of their framework for this purpose, refused to yield any more. The Chinese dealer had these foreign buccaneers then. 'No can get plenty bones!'

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thinkingdwnl903 · 2 years

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piperguldbrandsen88 · 2 years

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bongodesire60 · 2 years

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Facts About Medical Doctor Revealed

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#medical clinic

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

2K notes · View notes

deepdarkdelights · 3 years

Text

Solar Eclipse (Hoseok x Reader)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 16.9k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Devious Intentions, Talks about Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Dub Con, Forced Implants, Death, The Afterlife, Heights, Jumping from Heights

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: His smile drifted away, it was like watching the moon slip over the sun into a solar eclipse. The Hoseok you were left with was one that had a cold, stricken expression that bled disbelief.

This look on his face, although more genuine than anything else you had seen, was capable of sending your entire body into a panicked frenzy. Something in the back of your mind was telling you, no, begging you to run. The instincts that had been fostered in you from generations before were telling you this man was dangerous, and you were better off fleeing than sticking around to see what would happen.

“I dare you, say that to me one more time baby and you won’t like what happens next.”

A/N: This was supposed to be 10k...how did we get here. This story was heavily inspired by Beautiful Accident and Wonderful Nightmare! Both amazing movies I recommend that never fail to get me in my feels. I hope you enjoy this wild ride! See you in the comments! 💜💜💜

Your hands were hurting again.

The light from your computer screen was blaringly bright, causing you to momentarily cease your endless scrolling and remove your glasses from the bridge of your nose. You pressed your cool fingers against the warm flesh of your eyelids and tilted your head back against your seat, giving yourself a moment to relax.

The once cacophonous tapping of another keyboard suddenly halted as your assistant leaned forward in her seat, sliding her laptop shut.

“You okay, boss?” She asked, her brows pinched together in concern. “Is it a migraine again?”

You exhaled deeply through your nose as you flexed your fingers in an attempt to dispel the ache from them. You were far too young to already be experiencing so many aches and pains.

“No, I’m just tired.” You admitted as you folded your glasses up and pushed them aside.

“That’s because you work too much, honestly do you ever sleep? When was the last time you went home?” She chuckled in amusement.

“Ha ha ha, very funny. I’ll have you know I’m faithful to my sleep number, I come home to him every night.”

“Him? You refer to your mattress as him? Somebody hasn’t gotten laid in a while.” She snorted.

“I could have you fired for that, that’s sexual harassment you know.” You shot back, amused yet annoyed she had hit a little too close to home.

“Please, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you fired me.” She laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Before you could shoot back your response, an abrupt knock on the door stopped the both of you in your tracks. Without saying anything, she rose from her seat and began to cross the room. Knowing she would be able to handle it for you, you reclined deeper into your office chair and slipped your phone out of your desk drawer to sort through your endless amount of notifications.

You didn’t look up as you heard the door click shut, two sets of footsteps approaching your mahogany desk.

You could hear somebody clear their throat, their breaths coming out rapidly as if they were anxious. “Y-your coffee, miss.”

Without looking up you merely held out your hand, the warm cup slotting itself into your waiting fingers. You mumbled out a rough thanks as you continued to scroll through your phone, rolling your eyes at the amount of missed calls you had from your mother who, despite knowing your work schedule, persisted in calling you during your office hours.

You could faintly hear your assistant walking the man to the door, whispering a soft, “Thank you, sweetie,” as the door clicked shut.

“Really?!” She hissed, once she was sure the man was gone. “You didn’t even look at him!”

“Who? The coffee boy? I didn’t think it mattered.” You said with a shrug, taking a sip from your coffee.

“That wasn’t a coffee boy! That was your intern, jackass!”

“He’s just an intern, Jenny, he won’t be here for long. None of them last around here anyways.”

Jenny sighed, flopping down into the seat across from you with a pout. “The poor thing was so nervous, you really should be nicer to him. He has such a sweet smile…”

“Oh no, don’t you start one of your schemes again. I don’t have time for men and the last thing I need is for you to start playing cupid. And didn’t I tell you to stop hiring people just because they're attractive?”

“Sweetie, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you're not as young as you think you are. When are you going to settle down, huh? Find a husband, have some cute kids for me to dote on.”

“Jesus, you’re starting to sound like my mother. I don’t have the time for marriage or for kids, not when I’m busy with this place.” You replied with a stiff tone, this was not the first time the two of you had this conversation.

“I’m just saying you’re hot, rich, and a CEO, you could literally have any man you want.” She pointed out, the tips of her fingers pressing together in the shape of an arrow.

“You literally just called me a Sugar Momma.”

“I mean, they do have websites if you're interested…”

“Okay, you win, I’m leaving early. I can’t deal with your obnoxious ass anymore.” You said, standing up so quickly your chair shot back and turned on its wheels.

“Jenny: 72, You: None.” Your assistant laughed, adding a point to her imaginary scoreboard.

“I was going to say call me if you need anything, but please don’t.” You chuckled, grabbing your blazer from the coat rack and sliding it around your shoulders before picking up your purse.

“Don’t worry boss, I’ll hold down the fort.” She said, giving you a quick salute as she stood and began to gather her things. “Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”

You pressed your lips together tightly in an attempt to hide the hint of a smile on your mouth as she exited your office. She was the only person you talked to like that, you were a rather antisocial boss. You tended to come off as cold and callous to your employees, but in reality you just really didn’t like talking to others when it wasn’t necessary. It had taken four years for you and Jenny to become as close as you did, in fact she was the only person you could truly call your friend.

You had grown up in an isolated world, one filled with tutors and home schooling as you were groomed to take over one of the branches of your family's business. You had siblings, but you rarely ever saw them. They too were consumed by their work and their families, in fact you were the youngest of them and couldn’t remember a time where all of you lived together in one household. There were four of you in total, you only saw each other at holidays and your parents annual Christmas gala. You were by no means close.

You had grown comfortable being alone and frigid. It was safe and it was efficient.

Your entire life had been one of isolation, the only amount of warmth bleeding into the bleak monotone schemes of your world was Jenny. And the amount you had let in was minimal.

It was better being alone, you told yourself.

You adjusted your purse on your shoulder as your office door swung shut behind you. The building was still fairly active, everyone was in a rush to complete their work before the sun completely dipped below the horizon. That was something you enjoyed about your building. The walls were littered with floor to ceiling windows allowing the ochre tones of sunlight to bleed into the bright white and concrete interior, soft dappled light dancing over hard edges.

You paused for a moment by the windows, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the warmth of the sun caress your face, its fleeting light still permeable through your closed eyelids creating a golden halo in your vision. You gave yourself two breaths worth of silence and stillness before your eyes snapped open once more and you hastily made your way to the elevator that would send you to your floor of the parking garage.

You waited patiently for the elevator, one of your legs extended in front of you as you rolled your foot from side to side on the precarious talon of your red bottom heels. Once you heard the doors sliding open and the familiar ding of the elevator you raised your chin slowly, your eyes half lidded in boredom as you met the expressions of your employees. There were two of them inside the metal contraption, their eyes wide in alarm at the sight of you. You tilted your head slightly to the side, and like you had cracked a whip they scuttled out of the elevator and hurried past you without a word.

You huffed in annoyance to yourself as you headed inside, you had no idea what their problem was and you pondered if there was any reason to write them up for their bizarre behavior. Perhaps not.

The elevator hummed as it steadily dropped floors, the soft music effectively worsening your mood. You hated elevator music.

As soon as the doors slid open you jetted out of them, your heels tapping noisily in the quiet garage. You slid your bag from your shoulder and busied yourself by trying to find your keys. You hissed to yourself as you tripped and almost went flying, multitasking and heels did not go together. You stopped for a moment, opening your bag wider as you tried to find the little ring of keys buried in the depths of your purse.

The second your fingers brushed the cool metal you released an annoyed breath, throwing your purse back over your shoulder as you flicked through your key ring, grasping the fob that went to your car.

Despite having what you had previously been looking for, you did not move. Instead, you looked around warily, pivoting on your heels as you scanned the area around you.

You could have sworn you heard footsteps.

You waited silently for a few more moments, listening for signs that another person was there with you.

You heard no other breaths, nor the sounds of approaching or retreating footsteps.

You weren’t going to wait around any longer just to find out you were wrong.

You swiftly made your way to your VIP parking spot, unlocked the doors, and threw yourself into the car while making sure to lock the doors as soon as you were seated.

Your mother had begged you for months to get a bodyguard. You were a young woman with lots of money and the heir to a massive enterprise. You should not be walking around as if you were a normal person. It was only now that you were beginning to think that your mother was right.

Not wanting to dwell on dark thoughts any longer, you pushed your key into the ignition, and peeled out of the parking garage a little faster than normal.

As your anxiety slowly drained from your body, you began to feel the effects of lack of sleep. Jenny was not wrong, you were considering the fact that maybe you had a touch of insomnia. Either that or you were simply a workaholic. Honestly, it could be both.

You switched the radio on, picking a classic rock station and dialing the volume up to the point you could feel your leather seats vibrating beneath you with each clash of the drums emanating from the speakers.

But even that was just barely doing its job. Your eyes were still stinging like they had been moments before at your desk. You were undeniably as exhausted as you were a safety hazard. You clenched the steering wheel harder, the flesh of your skin pulling tightly over your knuckles as you attempted to stay awake. It wasn’t that far of a ride, you could make it home.

But that thought didn’t stop your eyelids from drooping shut, it was nearly impossible to keep them open, they were so heavy you were struggling to reopen them every time you blinked.

Your eyes stayed closed much longer now than they had before, and upon opening them again a scream of shock bubbled up your throat.

A flash of black fur shot across your narrow vision as you frantically spun the steering wheel and slammed on your breaks. A band of horns beeped behind and beside you as you swerved dramatically into the next lane.

Your car had been mere inches from swerving right in front of an eighteen wheeler.

Your hand fluttered frantically against your chest, your heart pounding back against it in shock.

You had almost died.

You gathered yourself up before stomping down on the accelerator and speeding away, dodging the massive vehicle you had almost hit in the opposite lane. The shock of adrenaline you were experiencing from that frightening event was more than enough to keep you awake now. You only had one goal in mind and that was to make it home in one piece.

The minute you slid back into your regular parking spot you allowed yourself to slump back into the driver's seat, blinking wildly as you recalled the sight of the headlights and the cacophony of car horns from moments prior. You really need to get your shit together.

~~~~~~~

By the time you made it up to your apartment the exhaustion had returned full force. You toed off your shoes tiredly, stumbling over them with an annoyed grunt as you threw your purse down to the floor. You could really do without your sudden lack of coordination.

Far too tired to even care, you immediately began stripping your clothes off at the front door. You carelessly threw your blazer aside and shimmied off your skirt as you began to walk, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you headed for your bedroom. The housekeeper would deal with it in the morning anyways, it didn’t matter where they ended up.

Your pajamas from the previous night were waiting for you at the foot of your bed, folded up into a neat little pile contrasting greatly from your current care for your clothing. You happily sighed as you pulled the creamy, cashmere sweater over your head and stepped into a pair of silk sleep shorts. This was what you had been waiting for all day.

That, and the bottle of Cheval Blanc tucked away in your liquor cabinet.

You ran your fingers through your hair tiredly as you made your way to the kitchen, the sound of your bare feet patting against the floor echoed down the long, empty hallway.

You wasted no time, eagerly pulling open your cabinet and retrieving the expensive bottle of wine along with a crystal glass. You eased the cork free from the bottle, allowing it to roll over your granite counter as you poured the wine into your glass, the liquor bubbling as you filled it to the very top. You were a guilty self medicator, that was for damn sure.

You hurried back into your living room, wine glass in one hand and a small tray of macarons in the other. There was one thing you were certain of, you were definitely going to drink your fatigue away and indulge in your favorite cookies until you passed out on your couch. You deserved it, after all you were a CEO, an overworked one at that.

So, there you sat, taking languid sips from your glass and delicate bites from your cookies as you began to catch up on a show you hadn’t had the time to watch in weeks. It was incredibly relaxing, the soft hum of the TV, the feeling of your favorite blanket wrapped around your bare legs, and the soft tapping of rain against your windows. You were set on not moving for the rest of the night. That was of course, until you had to pee.

You groaned in frustration at the thought of having to move, but the call of nature was much stronger than your will to remain sedentary. You leaned forward, setting your food and drink on the coffee table before you violently kicked your legs, fighting your blanket as you attempted to untangle yourself from it.

The second your toes touched the lush carpet beneath you, a shock of lightning suddenly splintered it’s way through the sky, shards of light refracting through your windows and lighting up the dim room. The soft rumble of thunder followed soon after.

You froze at the sight, the light rain still tapped against your windows, a dull contrast to the sudden shock of light you had witnessed.

But, what was even more unexpected, was the sight of dark fur and glowing jade eyes staring back at you. There was a cat sitting on your balcony. That should have been impossible, there was no possible way that cat could have made its way there, your building was pet free.

The sight of its slick coat of black fur tugged at your heart strings. He must be so cold, stuck out in the rain like that. In fact, he looked almost exactly like your childhood cat you had loved to dearly growing up. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to let him in, let him get dry and warm and fill his belly.

With a new goal in mind you carefully made your way to your sliding glass door, not wanting to spook him too badly lest he jump. The drop would not be a survivable one.

Despite your valiant efforts, the minute the door clicked and slid open he jumped up onto the fencing and rails that surrounded your balcony.

“Hey, no, no, no, just stay right there, kitty.” You cooed gently, taking slow and careful steps in his direction.

The cat fixed you with a penetrating gaze, his bright jade eyes trained on you, watching every step you made as his tail flicked from side to side behind him.

“That’s a good boy, just stay right there.” You hummed, your hands held up in a show of no malintent as you carefully approached him. “Come on, I just want to help you.”

Just as you were within grabbing reach, your fingers mere inches from touching his silken fur, he lept away, settling on the ledge against the building. He was dangerously close to falling off, the distance from the ledge to the ground far enough to make your toes and fingers tingle.

“Fuck.” You hissed.

The cat remained there, his gaze still trained on you. Those bright eyes seemed to be beckoning for you to come and join him, to meet him up on the ledge.

You quickly shook out your hands and feet as you stared back, your vision tunneling in on him. You could feel the cold air nipping at your bare flesh, goosebumps raising on the skin of your thighs. You could do it.

You wiped your palms against the fabric of your shorts before grasping the metal railing and carefully lowering yourself over to the other side. You could feel the wind stronger now as it swirled around you, a flash of light overtaking the sky once more as a steady rumble of thunder bounced off of the surrounding buildings.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You mumbled to yourself, taking in a sharp breath through your nose as you attempted to calm yourself. Just don’t look down, for the love of all that is holy do not look down.

You steadily rose up on to your toes, shimming your way over as you held on tightly to the railing. The sliver of stone beneath your toes was slick from rainfall, as was the metal of the railing beneath your tense fingers. The closer you got to the cat, the further away it seemed to be, either that was the truth or the reality of how high up you were was messing with your head.

The thought you had from earlier suddenly came rushing back to you, the drop wouldn’t be survivable. What a sobering thought.

You had come to a point now where you wouldn’t be able to hold onto the railing anymore, not if you needed to be able to reach the cat. So, with a shaky breath you released your grip from the railing one hand at a time and quickly latched onto the stone architecture surrounding the windows. The only thing keeping you from falling was the tiny inches of stone beneath your arched feet, and the architecture you were desperately clinging to.

You slowly turned your head, your gaze meeting the cat’s once more. It’s eyes were almost mesmerizing, there was something about it that was telling you that you needed to get him, that you just needed to pick him up and stay with him. You had no choice but to retrieve him, you felt like you would die if you had to leave him all alone on this ledge. His eyes were drawing you in, causing you to spiral downwards into their hypnotic depths. You needed him.

He was not moving anymore, he was settled down on his back legs, his tail flicking out dangerously over the edge of the building. You were certain that you could reach him if you tried.

You slowly lowered yourself into a crouch, releasing your one hand from the side of the building as you reached out, the other hand still holding onto the stone of the window. You leaned forward as calmly as you could, your arm burning from the stretch as you slid over slightly to grab the cat.

This time the cat did not move away, it remained still, waiting for your touch.

Both of your arms were completely spread out, your fingers just barely holding onto the building as you finally made it within grabbing distance. And then, it all fell apart.

As soon as your fingers brushed his midnight fur, he jerked away from your touch causing your feet to slip out from underneath you, and your weak hold to completely detach from the wall.

And then you were falling.

A violent scream ripped its way free from your throat as you went airborne, the last thing you could see was the penetrating emerald glare of the midnight black cat as you plummeted towards the ground.

No one would know that you had never intended to end your life when you stepped out onto that ledge.

Unwillingly, you had.

~~~~~~~

You never felt the impact of the ground, and when you opened your eyes you did not find your body mangled or feel any pain. In fact you were no longer even in the city.

You were already standing, and you were all alone. You turned frantically, spinning as you tried to find out where you were. There was nothing all around you, just cloudy skies, stretching fields of tall grass, old dilapidated fences, and a dusty road of dirt and rocks beneath your feet.

And then of course, there was the bus stop sign beside you.

You approached the sign in curiosity. The closer you got the more you noticed how strange everything was. Despite there being stones beneath your feet you didn’t feel pain, and the environment wasn’t cold or hot, it was just neutral. And, it was extremely silent. Not a gust of wind blew, no crickets hummed, and there wasn’t a single chirp from a songbird. There was nothing.

You leaned your upper body forward, looking from side to side for any signs of life. Both ways you could barely see anything, the field seemed to disappear into thick clouds of fog that were impermeable to your sight.

You decided in that moment you were better off looking for signs of life than you were waiting for them to come find you. But, to your surprise, the second your foot touched down onto the dirt road a bus came rumbling down the road and screeched to a stop in front of you.

The doors slid open and light flooded the space around you. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the exposure, your hand creating a visor on your forehead.

“You getting on or what?” A voice called from inside the bus.

“Me?” You asked pointing to yourself.

“Of course you, does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?” The voice huffed in annoyance. “I’m already running late. I'd prefer if you didn’t hold us up any longer.”

“Running late?” You whispered to yourself. “And where will you be taking me?”

There was silence for a moment and then suddenly a raucous laughter that made you jump. “Where am I taking you?! That’s a good one. Come on, let's go.”

You blinked slowly in irritation, the last thing you needed was to be laughed at and dismissed like a child when you had serious questions that you needed answered.

“Come on newbie! Today!” He yelled, causing you to jump in fright before scurrying onto the bus.

Upon entering you were met face to face with the bus driver. He had fair skin and pitch black hair with an amused, gummy smile on his face. Apparently, he thought you were hilarious. He said nothing to you this time, he just merely jerked his head in the direction behind him, signaling for you to find a seat.

Once you turned to face the passengers of the bus you realized it was far longer than it appeared from the outside, in fact it looked like it stretched farther beyond what you could see with copious amounts of passengers.

The passengers themselves were of all sizes, races, and ages. You could see mothers holding infants and elderly couples cuddled up to one another. Some people seemed to know one another, others looked sad and lonely like the little boy a few seats back.

You were incredibly confused.

Unsure as to where you should sit, you finally decided on sitting next to the little boy.

The second you sat down, you felt his gaze train on you and his little body shift closer to you.

“Hi,” He whispered, his fingers curling around the fabric of your cashmere sweater and tugging, “My name is Minho.”

You have him a soft smile in return with a gentle whisper of your name.

“Where’s your mommy, Minho?” You asked, curious as to why this little boy was all alone.

“I’m going to meet her now.” He replied, with an excited smile, his legs kicking out energetically before he suddenly calmed down. “I wish daddy came with me.”

“Why didn’t your daddy come with you?” You asked, your eyebrows pinching together in confusion.

“He said I had to go alone, he can’t come with me for a while. He said I’ll be happy with mommy, that I’ll feel better with her.” He said sadly, his lower lip pouting as he rubbed at his teary eyes.

“You’ll feel better?”

“Mhm, I was sick for a long time. Daddy said it was time for me to see Mommy, he told me it was okay to go to sleep.”

Oh, oh no. Everything was suddenly starting to make sense. You quickly looked over your shoulder and caught sight of the elderly couple you had seen earlier.

“Hey! You two! What were you doing before you got here?!”

The older man looked up at you with a kind smile as he continued to rub his wife’s shoulder. “We were driving down to visit our son, he was never too good about coming up to see us. Some bad weather hit, we couldn’t see out of the windshield very well. Next thing you know we’re rolling over the guard rail and down the side of the hill!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

“You! Where were you?!” You yelled at the woman seated across from you.

“Hm? I went in for surgery, what’s it to you?” She asked with an annoyed grimace on her face.

“What’s it to me?!” You echoed with a hysterical laugh. You were fucking dead that’s what it was! All of you were!

Your thoughts were racing a hundred miles a minute as you tried to gather yourself, your heart beating frantically as a sick feeling settled in your stomach. You needed to get off the bus, you needed to get far away from all of these people.

Without thinking you lurched to your feet and gripped the cord above your window, yanking it harshly to signal the bus to stop.

The bus halted immediately, sending you stumbling forward into the back of the driver’s seat. The bus driver met your panicked face through the reflection of the mirror, a curious light to his pitch black irises.

“So, we’ve got a challenger? I knew you’d be a stubborn one.” He sighed, hitting the button that sent the doors swishing open. “The guy in charge is out there, you can voice your complaints to him.”

You were far too shocked to vocalize anything, your feet just blindly leading you to the doors. You stopped for a moment, looking over your shoulder to get one quick look at Minho. His little legs were still kicking out in front of him.

“Bye miss!” He called with a little wave and a smile, spurring you off the bus with a quick wave in his direction.

Upon stepping foot off of the bus, you were faced with a dimly lit four way intersection that looked like it had been abandoned for years. You quickly headed towards the center of the road as you caught sight of a tall man waiting for you.

His face was relaxed, a neutral expression taking over his features. He was dressed fairly well for a man standing in the middle of nowhere. You took notice of his crisp three piece suit and the high shine of his shoes. He was obviously someone who was important, if the bus driver had indicated anything by his statements.

You didn’t waste any time to hurl your questions at him. “I’m dead aren’t I?! Who are you?! What is this place?!”

“Relax.” He commanded, his voice immediately sending a wave of calmness crashing down over you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before reopening them and waiting in silence for his response.

“My name is Namjoon, this is the crossroads.” He said, gesturing to the four intersecting roads surrounding you.

“That is Life,” He said, pointing to the road behind you, “That is Punishment,” the road to his right, “That is Reward,” the road behind him, “And that is Retrial.” The road to his left.

“Right, that’s fantastic, how do I go back down that road.” You blurted out, pointing to the road behind you.

“Normally, you don’t. But luckily for you, or not so luckily, there was an error made.”

“An error?” You asked.

“Yes, one of our reapers made a mistake. You aren’t scheduled for processing for quite some time, someone by the same name, sixty years of age, was scheduled for processing today.”

A reaper? What reaper? You hadn’t exactly seen the classic skeletal face cloaked all in black with a scythe in hand had you? Your face screwed up in irritation as you flicked backwards through your memories from earlier that day, trying to remember if you had seen anything that remotely resembled a reaper.

And then it hit you.

“That fucking cat!” You screeched, spinning around as you dramatically yelled into the void around you.

Namjoon winced his posture slightly wilting at your realization. “Yes, that was one of our newer reapers, Taehyung.”

“What kind of operation are you running here? Do I look like I’m sixty years old to you?” You yelled, the panic quelling up in your chest. “You’re going to fix this aren’t you?!”

“Of course! I take my job very seriously!” He shot back. “The only issue is, I can’t send you back to your life just yet.”

“And why not?!”

“Time is a very sensitive and precious thing, as a woman of business I am sure you understand. The other woman still needs to pass and be processed, the events that lead to her demise must be tailored perfectly and set up with the correct timing. Only then can you return, once she is passed with the correct timing the two of you will switch. You can live again and she can be sent down the proper road.”

“And how long will that take?”

“A few weeks.” He replied vaguely, his body tensed as he waited for your response.

“Weeks?! And what will I do during that time? Do you expect me to follow you around everywhere?”

“Thankfully, no. In the time being, I will have to put you somewhere else, some other place and time. Are you willing to do that?”

“Yes, I’m more than willing. As long as I get my old life back, I don’t care what it takes. Just make it happen.”

“You will, in due time. But listen to me very carefully, you have to follow every aspect of this other life perfectly. You cannot act out of character, you have to act exactly as everyone expects you to. You cannot have contact with anyone from your previous life as well. Understand? If you can’t do that, then you can’t go back.”

You swallowed harshly, a sense of anxiety creeping up inside of you. You had no choice but to accept, your life and had been wrongfully ended far too soon. If that meant doing whatever Namjoon asked of you, you would do it.

You gave him a swift nod, your hand clenching up into fists.

“Perfect, I’ll have Taehyung escort you down that way.” Namjoon replied, pointing down at the road to his left, Retrial.

Upon hearing his name, Taehyung appeared. He was tall, with honey skin, midnight black curly hair, and bright green eyes.

The fucking cat.

Taehyung met you with a sheepish grin and an embarrassed wave, hesitantly coming to your side. He looked nothing like the reaper you had been anticipating. If anything he was a sad excuse for a reaper with the bashful attitude he was presenting you with.

“Did you really have to use the appearance of my childhood pet to kill me?” You asked, your voice dripping with venom as you crossed your arms over your chest, your bare foot tapping in annoyance. You weren’t exactly the picture of intimidation you normally were.

“I’m sorry.” He replied softly, bowing his head forward in an apologetic manner still refusing to meet your burning gaze.

“I’ll be checking in with you every now and then, please, try to play along with this life.” Namjoon begged, a serious expression evident on his face. Not only did he appear serious, but you could tell he was also stressed. The fuck up Taehyung had made was evidently a big one.

“I’ll try my best.” You replied, you knew you had to, or else there was no going back.

Namjoon gave Taehyung a quick nod, and with that gesture Taehyung grabbed hold of your hand and began to lead you down Retrial. From your perspective, each road was identical, this one too was dusty and littered with stones leading into a seemingly never ending fog.

The reaper beside you was quiet, his gaze pinned ahead as he focused on his task, leading you down the path of Retrial.

If only you had known how much of a trial this life truly would be.

~~~~~~~

You were boiling hot.

You could feel a mattress beneath your back, one that was far softer than you normally liked. Your body was swaddled with thick blankets and sheets that were sticking to your sweaty skin. You groaned in irritation at the feeling and attempted to bat away the blanket and turn onto your side.

A sudden grunt behind you had your heart stuttering to a stop, your entire body frozen as you came to the realization that that was not a blanket you had just smacked, but somebody's arm wrapped around your waist.

Slowly, you turned onto your side to see who was in your bed. The moment you flipped your body over you were met with deep brown eyes that were just barely open and the sight of a lazy smile as your body was suddenly dragged forward and pressed tightly against the strangers.

A sharp scream bubbled up past your lips as you threw yourself backwards, smacking the man’s hand away from your body as you fumbled out of the bed. In your haste your foot was caught in the mess of blankets, sending you tumbling backwards off of the bed, spurring another cry from your mouth.

“Baby?” A voice called, it was raspy and deep from just waking and wrought with concern.

You quickly yanked the sheets off of your sprawled out form and ushered yourself to stand on shaky legs. The man in the bed was propped up on one elbow, the sheet slipping down off of his chest to settle and pool at his waist. He was absolutely shirtless, revealing a stretch of honey skin and a toned abdomen.

Holy shit, what the fuck was going on?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked you again, this time he appeared to be more alert, all signs of sleepiness dissipating from his body.

Worried from your lack of response, he rushed to stand up, the blankets falling away to reveal he was clad in boxers.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? It had to be illegal to have thighs like that, right?

“Stay right there!” You yelled, throwing your hand up in fear as he ignored your command and quickly began to approach you. The closer he got the more steps you took backwards, tripping over stray clothes on the floor until the wall at your back stopped you from retreating any further.

The man, clearly ignoring your pleas to be left alone, walked right up to you. He was so close that his bare chest was pressed up against you effectively sandwiching you between him and the wall as heat flooded your cheeks. His hands fluttered around you worriedly, checking you for any signs of injury before he rested his hand on your forehead checking for a temperature.

“Are you sick, hunny? You’re acting...off?” He asked, petting your hair in anxiety as he tried to meet your gaze.

“Don’t touch me.” You finally said, brushing his hands off of you once more as you attempted to slip away from him.

“Why are you acting like this?” He asked, obviously confused before a sudden smile overtook his features. He had a sweet smile, one that made his entire face light up in joy. “It reminds me how you used to act around me all those years ago. Are you trying to get me going this early? We really shouldn’t, you know, I have to be at work soon.”

Holy fuck, what kind of person are you now?

The man in front of you pulled you out of your stupor at the feeling of his hand on your jaw as he leaned down to your height.

Realizing what his intentions were, you let out another scream of fright and shoved him away, darting for the bedroom door. As soon as your hand gripped the doorknob you ripped the door open and slammed it shut behind you.

You leaned your head back against the wall as you rested, you hand over your heart, taking shallow breaths as you attempted to collect yourself.

That didn’t exactly go as planned.

With your eyes closed you didn’t see the incoming form running up to you until it collided with your legs, winding around you tightly in excitement.

“Mommy!” A little voice cried.

Your eyes snapped open in surprise as you looked down at the little child wrapped around your legs. Despite his small and non threatening form, you couldn’t stop the scream of fright that escaped you as you unlatched him from your legs and raced to the first open door you saw, yanking it closed behind you and twisting the lock shut.

You were in the bathroom. Finally, a place where you could gather yourself. You stood at the sink, resting your forearms on the counter and your head in your hands as you breathed in sharply through your nose. You needed to get your shit together and stop panicking.

You couldn’t help but feel cheated, panicked, and pissed all at once. Not only had you died, made a deal with some crossroads entity, but now the life you had been plopped in for the time being was the complete opposite of your previous one and you had not a single clue as to how to navigate it.

You let out a few more huffs before standing back up and raking your fingers through your hair. A sudden sparkle of light caught your attention, causing you to pull your left hand free from your hair. There was an engagement ring and a wedding band on your left ring finger. You hissed at the sight of it, your entire body shuddering.

You were married and a mother.

“Are you fucking serious, Namjoon?!” You whispered to yourself in the bathroom, knocking your head back against the wall three times in frustration. Jenny would be having a field day if she knew about this.

Jenny.

You wondered what her reaction was, when she heard that you had flung yourself from your balcony. You wondered if she blamed herself for sending you home early even though it wasn’t her fault. You wished you could tell her you hadn’t done that to yourself, that it wasn’t her fault. You just hoped that she was okay and that she wasn’t crying over you.

You could get through this, you had no other choice. It was time to get your shit together.

You straightened your spine and shook out your hands with a deep breath before you unlocked the door and swung it open. Standing outside the door was your “son.” He was practically the spitting image of your “husband” who had yet to leave the bedroom. He was staring up at you, with big brown eyes, as he raised his arms up and clenched his hands in a grabbing motion.

You knew what that meant. You plastered on a forced smile as you bent down and picked up the small boy before settling him on your hip. He easily nestled his head into the crook of your neck, his eyes fluttering shut as he basked in your warmth.

At least he was cute, you could manage that.

You curled your arm securely around his back as you walked into the kitchen, your bare feet padded dully against the cool tile of the floor.

“Are you hungry?” You softly asked the little boy. You could feel him nod into your shoulder slowly, his fingers curling around the collar of your sleep shirt.

You carefully unhooked him from your clothes and gently set him down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He whined in refusal, reaching out for you once more before becoming distracted by a coloring book that had been left at the table.

Unsure as to what exactly you should make for the young boy, you searched the kitchen cabinets before settling on toast. Simple and easy. As the bread sat toasting, you decided to investigate the new environment you had been put in.

You could tell you were still in the city, just a different section of it. You could see the towering skyscrapers through the windows of the apartment. This apartment was definitely not your own. For one, it was much smaller with a completely different layout. And, it looked to be in disorder with toys scattered everywhere in the living space. It certainly was not to your standards, but you could manage it for a few weeks as Namjoon had instructed. All you had to do was follow this life perfectly, and it couldn’t be that hard. Right?

You pulled yourself away from the windows, the drop off sending a familiar shiver down your spine, and rushed back into the kitchen to finish up the breakfast for the boy coloring away furiously at his book.

Once you had the plate situated in front of him, you caught sight of a wallet on the opposite side of the table. Without hesitation you rounded the table and snatched it up, rifling through the items inside until you caught sight of what you were looking for. An ID.

“Jung Hoseok.” You mumbled, the name tingling on your lips and echoing in your mind. So, this was your temporary husband.

“What are you doing?” A voice asked from behind you causing you to jump in fright.

You pivoted on your heels to face the man, your husband, Hoseok. Despite the fear his voice evoked in your body, he was presenting you with a blinding smile. One that sent chills throughout your body for reasons that were unknown to you.

“Hoseok?” You said, although it sounded more like a question.

“Hoseok?” He chuckled, “What did I do, am I in trouble? What happened to Hobi or hunny?”

Well shit, you were already fucking things up weren’t you?

“You know if you need anything you can always ask me, baby. No need to go sneaking around.” He said, his smile still pinned to his cheeks as he struck you with a penetrating gaze.

He said nothing for a moment, he just stared at you with that smile in absolute silence. It was so quiet you could hear the blood pulsing through your ears and the soft ticking of the clock in the corner of the room as you tried to avoid his gaze. Despite the high position you once held in your previous life, you had never been very good with eye contact. He was really testing you today.

He remained quiet as he grabbed the wallet from your hand and slipped it into his pants pocket before straightening his jacket out.

“Jihoon, you’re going to be late for school. Go get ready.” Hoseok said, his voice and face still appearing cheerful as the little boy shuffled out of his chair and darted down the hallway to his bedroom.

You didn’t know why, but you were struck with the feeling that something was very wrong here.

You remained motionless as Hoseok raised his hand, cupping the side of your face rather gently, much softer than you originally expected.

“You’ll be good for me while I’m gone, won’t you baby?” He whispered, his lips lightly brushing your cheekbone as his fingers gently swiped over the smooth skin of your cheek.

You said nothing, you merely nodded in agreement so that he would finally release you and leave you alone to process what you had gotten yourself into.

Without warning, he pressed his lips to your own in a hard kiss spurring a cry of surprise from you. You attempted to pull away from him only to find his hand at your back, keeping you pressed close to him as he sighed against your mouth, a shudder shaking through his body. His grip was becoming stronger, borderline bruising the more you squirmed against him as he tongue swiped over the flesh of your lower lip.

“Ew! Daddy!” Jihoon yelled as he reentered the room, fully dressed for school with his little backpack slung over his small shoulders.

Hoseok pulled away from you with a laugh, allowing you to stumble away from your supposed husband, your hand cupping your mouth. You took back whatever you had thought about Jihoon before, he was your saving grace.

“Sorry buddy, Daddy just loves Mommy so much!” Hoseok said, his voice full of glee as he gave his son a quick hug before standing up again. “I’ll see you after work.”

Hoseok headed to the door, stopping for a moment to look you over one last time. “I’ll be seeing you later as well.” He said with a wink before exiting the apartment.

Thank fuck he was gone.

Jihoon quickly approached the now closed door, sliding his shoes on and reaching for the door knob.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked as you watched the young boy open the door.

“School?” He asked slowly, his little brows furrowed in confusion.

“By yourself? No, give me a minute to get dressed. I'll walk you to the bus.”

“Mommy, you can’t!” He cried, causing you to come to a stop.

“I can’t? And why not?”

“Because, you never do.” He replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

What kind of mother was this person? She didn’t even walk her own kid to the bus to make sure he didn’t get kidnapped? Jihoon was so young, he couldn’t have been older than six by the looks of him. He was practically still a baby.

“Well I am now, wait right there Jihoon.”

You were still dressed in the baggy T-shirt you had woken in, the fabric rumpled and hanging loosely over your shoulders revealed a fraction of your collarbone. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this was Hoseok’s shirt. You hissed in annoyance and ripped the shirt from your body, filing it into a corner of the bedroom.

The closet was filled to the brim with clothes, both yours and your “husband’s.” You swept the various suits and shirts aside until you stopped at your own clothes. You found it strange the amount of formal attire Hoseok possessed and your lack of it. Your side of the closet was filled with comfortable clothes, the only “formal” attire you owned was a wedding dress tucked all the way in the back of the closet and stored away in a plastic case.

You sighed in frustration, settling on a pair of leggings and a large hoodie. One that was, presumably, your husbands as well. Did this woman have no desire to take pride in her appearance? Apparently not.

“Come on, Jihoon!” You called with a clap of your hands as you made your way to the front door where he waited, his small hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack.

Jihoon didn’t say anything in response, he merely held up his hand and slipped it into your own. He was a cute kid, a perfect reflection of Hoseok, but eerily enough you could see your own features reflected in him.

You released a deep breath through your nose, pushing those thoughts to the back of your head. You needed to focus on getting him to school for now.

The door clicked shut behind you as the two of you began making your way out of the building. The weather was still warm, not that much different from what it had been in your past life. It was nice, being able to take in the fresh air for a moment and be able to process what exactly you were going through.

Jihoon had taken the initiative for the both of you, considering you had no idea where the bus picked him up for school everyday. His hand was still clutched in your own, his arm outstretched as he walked quickly in front of you. He was talking a million miles per minute, the most random things leaving his mouth. And, just when he was about to get to the point, he would find something new to distract himself.

“Oh, Mommy! Look at that butterfly!” He was painfully cute.

“Oh, it’s very...pretty.” You said, unsurely. At first glance, the creature was beautiful. It’s wings wide yet delicate, painted with bright colors like paint splatters on a fresh canvas. But, it had a large chunk missing from it’s right wing. The injured wing fluttered every now and then with the gentle breeze. The poor thing was trapped in the flower bed it was lying in, it would never be able to fly again.

You were pulled from your reverie as Jihoon tugged on your arm sharply. He beckoned you to lower yourself down to his height. As soon as you had settled down on your haunches he threw himself against you in a tight hug, squeezing you twice for good measure.

“Bye Mommy, I love you!” He yelled before pressing a kiss to your cheek and turning on his heels, darting towards the school bus.

You stayed there for a moment, your hand frozen on the spot he had left a kiss. So, that was what it was like to have a family. To have someone love you. You had never had that before.

You rose back up to your feet, taking a moment to gather yourself back up again. You could see there was a park nearby, and getting yourself over there seemed like a good enough idea. You didn’t want to go back to the apartment just yet, you still had no idea what you were supposed to do. You didn’t like the thought of just waiting at “home” for Jihoon, or worse, Hoseok to come back.

Jihoon was easy, predictable. But Hoseok, he was uncharted territory. A raging sea you didn’t know how to navigate.

Damn you and your incapability to foster stable relationships.

It was only day one of this temporary life and you were completely out of your depth. A husband? A son? A stay at home mom? You had and were none of these things, but now you had every single one of them. Whether you wanted them or not. Namjoon gave you orders, and if you wanted to survive, you had no choice but to follow them. You had to play along.

You walked slowly, tiredly, through the park. The tips of your sneakers were dragging against the ground, kicking loose stones off to the side. A few weeks he had told you, just how long exactly was that?

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the incoming footsteps approaching rapidly. It was the feeling of fingers gripping your shoulders and violently spinning you around that finally caught your attention, a cry of shock escaping you.

“What are you doing?!” A voice cried, their hands shaking you to garner your attention.

The sun that had blinded you finally lightened as it slipped behind a thick cover of clouds, disappearing out of sight. You could see now, and the man that was holding you so tightly was none other than Hoseok.

“H-Hoseok?” You stuttered, your hands gripping his wrists as he ceased to lessen his hold on you. What was he doing here? He had left for work no longer than half an hour ago.

“Did you hear me? I said, what are you doing?!”

“I’m going on a walk? I just dropped Jihoon off at the bus.”

“You did what?!” He yelled, his face stricken with panic and a deep, hidden anger. His hold on you was only becoming stronger, near bruising as he shook you once more.

“Hoseok! Stop it, you’re hurting me!” You yelled, taking a step back from him.

That seemed to do the trick, his voice quieted and his hold became much lighter than before. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he acting like you had just committed a crime.

His eyes slipped closed as he took a deep, calming breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “Baby, you don’t leave the apartment. You know this, we’ve been over this.”

“What?” You asked, utterly confused.

This seemed to shock Hoseok, his brows raising and his eyes widening. The both of you were standing there, a gap between the two of you as you stared at one another with equal states of confusion. You not knowing what he meant, and him wondering if you were experiencing some sort of memory loss.

“Come on, I’m taking you home, you need rest.” He finally said with a gentle smile, he was firmly set on the idea that you must be sick from how strange you were acting.

You didn’t trust him or that fake smile he was giving you. Something was going on here, and it was terribly wrong.

“No.” You said firmly, taking a step backward when he tried to grab hold of you again.

His smile drifted away, it was like watching the moon slip over the sun into a solar eclipse. The Hoseok you were left with was one that had a cold, stricken expression that bled disbelief.

“What did you say?” He asked you, slowly.

“I said, no.” You spat back, your voice sharp and firm despite the tingles of fear and anxiety creeping through every muscle in your body.

“I dare you, say that to me one more time baby and you won’t like what happens next.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Hoseok.”

That did it. As soon as he took one step in your direction, you spun around and booked it like a track star. You paid no mind to where you were going, not caring who you had to shove aside to clear a path for you to get away. You were trusting your gut, and it was screaming at you to get as far away as possible. You could hear Hoseok behind you, yelling your name and telling you to come back, but you paid him no mind. You just knew that this was your one and only chance to get away from him before you lost it.

Everything he had said and done had raised red flags in your mind, the way he talked to you and touched you, it was all wrong. It was possessive and dark, whether he intended it to be or not.

What husband doesn’t allow their wife to leave their home? What father lets their six year old child walk themselves to school? What caring man demands you obey his every will? There was something wrong.

You couldn’t hear Hoseok behind you anymore, the crowd had thickened substantially the further away you got from the park and the deeper into the city you were. People were staring at you strangely as you shoved through the crowds, grunting in annoyance as you squeezed yourself through them.

The crosswalk was fairly empty, you could make it through and keep going, you had no time to stop and question how far away Hoseok was. So, you broke through the final band of people and began to sprint through the road, despite the sudden cries and warnings that were being shouted behind you.

Fuck, there was a reason the crosswalk was empty, wasn’t there?

You turned your head to the side as you ran, only to come face to face with an oncoming car, coming in so fast you knew it wouldn’t be able to stop. No matter what you did, it was going to hit you. You threw your arms up in front of your face, blinding yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut and prepared yourself for the impact.

But it never came.

“Day one and you’re already fucking things up, aren’t you?”

The sounds of the city had fallen silent, there were no more car horns, no people talking, nothing. It was dead quiet. You slowly peeled your arms away from your face and opened your eyes.

Namjoon was there, still dressed in that three piece suit of his as he leaned up against the hood of the car that had almost hit you. He looked beyond pissed with you. You looked around, taking notice of your environment. There were people still looking at you, their faces frozen in shock and horror. There was a bird above you, it’s body frozen in midair with its wings spread wide open. And there was a little girl on the corner of the street, her popsicle stuck freefalling a foot above the ground.

Time had been suspended.

“Namjoon! You don’t understand, this life you put me in, I can’t do it! I’m not a wife or a mother, I can’t do it! And my husband? There’s something wrong with him, I don’t know what but he isn’t right in the head.”

Namjoon rolled his head back, a sharp sigh leaving his lips before he righted himself and pressed his fingers to his temples.

“You need to go back.” He simply said, his frustration evident.

“I just told you I can’t -”

“It’s either you go back to him and play house for a few fucking weeks, or I take you back to the crossroads and process you!” He snapped.

You jumped in surprise at the sudden intensity of his voice. When you had first met Namjoon he was calm, collected, even a little embarrassed at the mess up that had occurred. Now, he was frustrated.

“I told you before, you need to follow this life perfectly, you cannot let anyone know that anything is amiss. That means you need to be Jihoon’s mother and Hoseok’s wife. Whether you like it or not, that’s reality. So, you need to decide right now what you are going to do. Are you going to grin and bear it for a few measly weeks, or are we both leaving right now?”

You remained quiet for a moment. You already knew what your answer was going to be before you even opened your mouth. You needed to stop panicking and start thinking efficiently. What was a few weeks of unease and fear in comparison to years of your life you would gain in return. It was a good investment.

“I’ll do it.” You finally said.

“Good,” Namjoon breathed a sigh of relief as he popped off the hood of the car, “No more fuck ups, for my sake and yours.”

And then he was gone, disappeared into thin air.

The world was moving around you again, and you were no longer standing on the crosswalk but instead in the middle of the sidewalk as the crowd of people that were previously waiting to cross the road dissipated and made their way to the other side.

And then, those same hands were on you again, but this time they pulled you into a warm chest, crushing you like a boa constrictor in a desperate hug.

“You scared the shit out of me!” Hoseok cried, his hand settling on the back of your neck as he pulled your head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

How ironic, you had scared him.

~~~~~~~

Hoseok hadn’t even taken the risk of walking you back home, instead he flagged down a taxi and ushered the both of you into the back seat. The ride was spent in silence between the two of you. You sat there, the side of your head pressed against the window as you listened to the music from the radio and the feeling of Hoseok’s hand on your thigh keeping you immobile.

You allowed him to grip your wrist when the cab arrived outside your apartment and when he dragged you back inside. It seemed so much darker now after you had been outside. You really didn’t want to be trapped in that small apartment with just you and him and no Jihoon to protect you.

His hold didn’t lighten until he had dragged you into the bedroom you had woken up in the morning. It was then that he pressed his hand against your shoulders and shoved you backwards on the bed, quickly climbing on top of you as you began to flail your limbs wildly in surprise.

“Calm down, hunny.” He cooed, a genuine, sadistic smile on his face now. All the other smiles before had been so fake now that you had seen this one. This one was beyond thrilled.

You flinched as you felt cold metal encircle your wrist and snap shut. He had you handcuffed to the bed, there was no running away now that was for sure.

Your heart was thumping frantically in your chest, your limbs shaking as the adrenaline that had once faded was flooding through you again. Your instincts had been dead on accurate, you should have kept running when you had the chance.

“Baby, baby, baby,” He laughed, tilting his head to the side as his eyes shone with glee. “I haven’t seen you in so long, I thought you were gone.”

You were shaking beneath him as his eyes traced over every inch on your body, his fingers playing with the loose strands of your hair.

“You’ve been acting so different today, almost like how you were when we first met all those years ago.” He hummed, his face pressing closer to yours as he lightly brushed his lips down the side of your cheek before stopping to press a kiss at the curve of your jaw.

You flinched to the side in discomfort, spurring a delighted giggle from his lips.

“As fun as it is to have you like this again, that doesn’t mean I can let your bad behavior go unpunished. You left without my permission and you said no to me, I can’t have that baby, I just can’t.” He sighed, the puff of air against your flesh spurring goosebumps to rise in response.

“So, be a good little girl for me, and don’t move.” He instructed, pressing a lazy kiss to the bared column of your throat.

“You’re in timeout, a couple hours to yourself should help you think long and hard about what you did today.” He laughed, pulling himself off of you and retreating towards the bedroom door.

“I’d think of a good way to apologize to me if I were you.”

And then he was gone. Once the door shut you could feel your heartbeat steadily falling and returning to normal. “Play house,” Namjoon had said, “Grin and bear it,” he told you. You weren’t so sure if those sentiments applied to your situation anymore.

It was confirmed, you were married to a sadistic sociopath.

Hoseok had left you chained to the bed for hours on end like the asshole that he was. You were rightfully scared of him, like you had previously thought, he was unpredictable. One moment he was kind and gentle and the next he was angry and after that he was filled with a corrosive glee.

How were you supposed to make it through the next few weeks like this? It was impossible.

All you could do was lay there, stewing in anxiety as you were drowning in your never ending stream of thoughts about your fate at the hands of your so-called husband.

By the time you heard the front door unlocking the sunlight had completely shifted in the room. The light was now entering at a different angle casting long, dark shadows over the room. It looked like the light was being chased away by the tendrils of darkness curling at its soft edges.

You could hear a loud thud coming from the main room and the sound of little footsteps approaching the bedroom quickly.

“Mommy!” A voice called before the door was shoved open. Jihoon. “Found you!” He giggled, kicking his shoes off before scrambling up the side of the bed and crawling over to you on all fours.

Jihoon seemed undeterred by the sight of your wrist bound to the headboard behind you as he curled up against your side, his head resting on your shoulder as he wrapped his small arms around you. A chill traced its way up your spine, this wasn’t the first time he had seen his mother like this. No, this was common for him.

Jihoon was already prattling endlessly about his day, much like he had on the way to the school bus that morning. His chatter suddenly came to a stop as he ran out of things to say, instead he let out a little hum and asked you: “Daddy put you in time out?”

“Yeah, Jihoon, Mommy’s in time out.” You replied, your jaw clenched and your eyes pressed shut.

“I told you, you can’t leave. Daddy always finds you.” He said, nodding his head in agreement with himself as he began to play with your hair.

Your eyes snapped open, you head turning to the side to look at Jihoon. That definitely meant something, didn’t it? In fact, how had Hoseok found you at the park in the first place? Or on the sidewalk you had run to?

“Jihoon...how does Daddy find Mommy?” You asked him.

Jihoon continued to play with your hair, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration as he twisted and knotted your hair in a sloppy braid. “Your boo boo.”

“My boo boo?”

Jihoon stopped his shaky braiding for a moment, meeting your eyes as he grabbed your free hand and led it to the back of your neck. That was when you felt it.

Right there, at the nape of your neck, was a small bump beneath the flesh. You smoothed your finger over it a few more times in disbelief, making sure that what you were feeling was actually real.

He had microchipped you, like a dog.

A pit settled itself into your stomach as the reality of your situation finally hit you. The life you had been injected in was far more dark and twisted than you had first thought. This went beyond overprotectiveness and time outs, this was a clear show of obsession and possessiveness. In Hoseok’s eyes, you belonged to him.

And, upon having that realization, your husband returned home from work.

The bedroom door had been left wide open, giving you a clear view of Hoseok entering the apartment as he shimmied his jacket off of his shoulders and loosened his tie. Your arm curled around Jihoon tighter, pressing him even closer to your side like he was a life preserver, the only thing keeping you from being dragged down into the dark trenches of the sea. He felt safe to you.

The minute Hoseok looked up and caught sight of the two of you, the bleak and tired look that adorned his features drifted away and was replaced by that same fake smile, the one that never reached his eyes but lit up his entire face.

“There’s my two most favorite people in the world!” He called, pulling a laugh from Jihoon who raised his arms up in a gesture suggesting he wanted Hoseok to hold him.

Traitor.

Hoseok bounded into the room, lifting Jihoon up from underneath his arms and spinning him around before settling himself on the bed beside you with Jihoon on his chest, excited giggles shaking his entire body.

It startled you how normal this would have looked from the outside, minus your hand being cuffed. To anyone else it could have looked like any other family spending time together after a long day. A stay at home mother with her busy husband and their young son. Oh, how far that was from the truth.

“You hungry, buddy?” Hoseok asked, tickling his son's sides. “How about take out tonight?”

“Yeah!” Jihoon agreed enthusiastically.

“What do you think, Mommy?” Hoseok asked you, pivoting his head to the side, his dark eyes fixing you to your spot.

Play along.

“That sounds good.” You nodded, attempting to do some damage control from your actions earlier that day.

“Good answer baby,” Hoseok smiled, popping Jihoon off of him as he slid over to you, fishing the keys to the handcuffs out of his back pocket. His thumb gently stroked the reddened flesh of your bound wrist before freeing it. He held your wrist in his hand for a moment before pressing a long kiss to the irritated flesh.

“Behave.” He whispered into your skin, looking up at you through half lidded eyes before he flipped his switch again and bounced off of the bed in glee. “C’mon Jihoon, you can pick where we order from!”

~~~~~~~

The air had been thick with tension for the rest of the night, unbeknownst to Jihoon who was too excited to be with both of his parents to realize that there was anything wrong.

Jihoon had become a buffer between you and Hoseok, the little boy seating himself between the two of you on the couch with his food in hand while his legs kicked back and forth excitedly. A little hum of happiness left him with each bite of his food, completely oblivious to the dark look Hoseok was sending you over his head.

You had somehow managed to equally piss him off and excite him all in one day. You were scared of what it would be like when Jihoon had to inevitably go to bed, he wouldn’t be there to protect you anymore.

There were few things you had been scared of in your previous life, and they were normal things for a person of your stature. You had been scared of being mugged, being kidnapped for ransom, having someone break into your apartment, or becoming a disappointment to your family.

Most of those things could have been remedied with a bodyguard. Never in your entire life did you ever think you would come to rely on a six year old boy, your “son,” to be your protection. It was strange how much could change, all in the course of one night, one mistake.

Once again, you had found yourself cradling Jihoon to your side, his body relaxing under your touch as he snuggled up against you. He gently guided your hand away from your lap, and onto his head, a sign that he wanted you to play with the short strands of hair.

You pulled your hands away from your legs and allowed your son to lay his head down as you softly stroked his hair in a calming, soothing motion. The light of the television was flickering, casting a blue glow onto his young features. His eyes had fluttered shut, his long lashes casting smooth shadows against the skin beneath his eyes. His breath was coming out slower now beneath your touch, the rise and fall of his chest becoming slower and deeper than before.

Jenny had been right about one thing, you would have had cute children. When you went back, a part of you was certain that you would miss Jihoon. Your little protector.

You jolted at Hoseok’s unexpected touch, his arm sliding behind your shoulders as he moved closer to you on the couch. An annoyed whine sounded from Jihoon at the sudden motion causing him to press his face against your legs in an attempt to escape whatever was disrupting his sleep.

Hoseok leaned closer, his warmth seeping into your side. He joined your hand on Jihoon’s head, lightly smoothing over his hair before speaking. “I think it’s time for bed, little man.”

“Noooo!” Jihoon whined, “I wanna stay with Mommy.”

“Not tonight, buddy. You need to be a big boy and sleep in your own bed.”

“I don’t wanna!” He cried.

Sensing an impending tantrum, Hoseok scooped Jihoon up into his arms and cradled him to his chest. He started rubbing his back in slow motions, bouncing lightly with each step that he took. Miraculously, you could see Jihoon’s eyes begin to droop shut, his fatigue returning in full blast.

Your parents never did that for you.

You watched as Hoseok retreated into Jihoon’s room, presumably to get him ready for bed.

Shit, your bodyguard was falling asleep.

Your body moved before you could think, flinging itself from the couch and sprinting for the bedroom. You couldn’t think of what to do, you knew that as soon as Hoseok was done with Jihoon he was going to come after you and you didn’t know what to expect. So, you did what any other grown woman would do.

You hid under the covers.

Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, the sound echoing through your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut in fright. All you could do what lay there and wait for him, you were doing nothing but delaying the inevitable.

When you heard his footsteps rounding the corner you tried to slow your breathing, forcing your chest to rise and fall slower to make it seem like you had fallen asleep. If he bought it, then maybe he would leave you alone.

Unlikely.

He did the exact opposite. You could hear him close the door behind him, shuffling around the room as he got ready for bed. Your breath hitched in your throat as the lights flickered off, and the mattress dipped beside you from his weight.

It was dead silent in that pitch black room, the only sounds you could hear were the ringing in your ears, your breaths, and his.

You flinched in surprise when he latched onto you, dragging you backwards into the warmth of his bare chest.

You tried your best to remain calm, to breathe lightly, and to not move. But Hoseok was no idiot, and you were daft if you thought you could fool him.

“I know you’re awake.” He whispered, his nose pressing against your hair as he took in a deep breath, sending a sharp chill down your spine.

He remained quiet for a moment, his arms wrapping tighter around your body. The feeling was the same as if a boa constrictor was curling around you. Slowly increasing the pressure, tightening its grasp in an attempt to squeeze the life out of you. Slow, calculating, and intimate.

The arm that had looped around your middle lightly drew backwards, allowing his hand to slide beneath your shirt and rest on the bare skin of your waist.

“I think I know a way you can make it up to me.” He mumbled with his lips pressed against your throat.

His palm smoothed over the skin of your lower abdomen, just above the hem of your underwear as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, lips and tongue tracing over the bared flesh. Like a little lamb you had found yourself caught in the jaws of the predator, one snap away from the clutches of death.

You remained frozen from a blend of shock and fear, all sense of fight or flight leaving you and rendering you immobile. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to move, to pull away, to throw yourself off of the bed. But your muscles were tense, frozen in a state of pure anxiety and fear, you knew nothing more than the thought of keeping still like a rabbit in the face of danger.

He moved to the side, dragging you onto your back so he could settle himself on top of you. He braced himself with his arms on either side of you, caging you in with no room to escape. He gave you no warning of what he was thinking of doing, he merely swooped down and pressed his lips to your own.

A muffled squeak rattled in your chest, your heart suddenly thudding louder than before like an alarm sounding to wake you up. Your hands moved first, sliding onto his chest and barely applying any force, struggling to push him back. His skin was warm and smooth against your palms, an alluring honey shade that you would have been enamored by like you had been that morning, had you not been exposed to his true nature.

“Hoseok.” You said, finally breaking free of his kiss.

Your call of his name had the exact opposite effect of what you had hoped. A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he pressed his hips against yours, effectively pinning you to the mattress beneath him.

“Hoseok!” You tried again, trying to grab his attention.

“That’s it baby, keep saying my name.” He sighed, expertly rolling his hips against yours.

Oh. Oh no.

The sudden wave of arousal that washed over you was unwelcomed and even more frightening than anything else. You weren’t even in control of yourself anymore, that was what his presence did to you.

“Play along,” The words that Namjoon had told you were suddenly echoing in your mind.

Your breath got caught in your throat as he pressed himself closer to you, you could feel the smooth roll of his hard length pressing against your core, light sparks of pleasure tingling throughout you. Shadows of fear still crept around in the back of your mind, the nape of your neck throbbing in a twisted reminder of the chip that lay beneath the skin.

Hoseok was in his own world, hell bent on teasing you until he grew tired of it. He shifted his weight onto one arm allowing his hand to delicately trace up the length of your body. His fingers just barely brushed your thigh, trailing upwards to trace the hollows of your hips before settling on your waist and rising up over the barrel of your ribcage that was exposed so nicely for him from your arched spine.

You were laying there, helpless for him, frozen from a state of arousal and fear that was blending perfectly into its own dark, tempting cocktail. You pressed your lips together firmly, smothering any whine that tried to force its way free from you when he pulled back, the motion of his hips stilling as he played with the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know if you wanted to yell at him to go away, or scold him for stopping.

Either way, you didn’t have much say on the matter.

He tilted his head from side to side, his dark eyes tracing over your form from head to toe. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched the heavy rise and fall of your chest, your wrinkled shirt, and the way your thighs and hips jerked from the loss of his touch. You looked adorable to him, he couldn’t deny the powerful feeling it gave him to see you so helpless beneath him. He was sick, and he loved it.

His fingers were still tracing the hem of your shirt, like he was contemplating removing it despite the both of you knowing it was inevitably going to come off. Hoseok was an impatient man, that much you could tell. He firmly gripped the bottom of your shirt and began to roll it up agonizingly slowly, that satisfied smirk still pinned to his handsome features.

“Whaddya say, hunny? Should we give Jihoon a sibling?” He laughed, his tongue flicking out to swipe over his lower lip at the thought of getting to see you full with his child again. He would be a liar if he said the thought didn’t turn him on.

All of the blood rushed to your face, your thighs tensing reflexively against him where he was settled between your legs.

“Is that what you want?” He hummed, hands settling on your hips and roughly pulling you down the mattress against him. “You want me to fill you up again, sweetheart?”

You didn’t get a chance to even consider answering his lewd question, a sudden shock of lighting and a deep roll of thunder caught the two of you off guard. The once pitch black room had been lit up by the blast of light, the windows shaking from the boom of thunder.

And then, there was the sound of crying and little footsteps.

Hoseok hung his head backwards in distress before rolling off of you with an annoyed whine echoing through the room. “God fucking dammit.”

“Mommy! Daddy!” Jihoon yelled before throwing the door open and scampering up over the foot of the bed, his little face wet with tears as he scrambled over the sheets and settled himself in between the two of you.

If you had questioned it before, you weren’t questioning it now. Jihoon was your savior.

“Jihoon, it’s just a little thunder, it’s nothing to be scared of.” Hoseok said, his voice a little sterner than normal, most likely from his case of blue balls.

“It’s scary!” The little boy rebutted, “I wanna sleep with you!”

“Jihoon -”

“It’s okay you can sleep with Mommy and Daddy tonight.” You cut Hoseok off, opening your arms for Jihoon to snuggle into.

The look on Hoseok’s face would have been humorous if you didn’t know you were going to have to pay for it eventually.

Everything came with a price, eventually.

~~~~~~~

Hours melted into days, and days slowly migrated into weeks. You had begun to lose track of how much time you had spent in this other life of yours. But you knew you couldn’t stand it for much longer.

You could handle Jihoon, you liked Jihoon, you could stand even being there because of him. Hoseok...he was another story. He never hid his true intentions from you, that was for sure. But the more time you spent trapped inside that apartment the more you began to feel like you were going to lose yourself.

Sometimes you could forget what Hoseok really was, and other times he made sure to remind you. In this life, whoever this person was before you took over, they had never left the apartment since Jihoon was born. That was six years of their life spent trapped within these walls with no one to talk to except for two people who were only home for a few short hours a day.

It was isolating. It wasn’t unlike the lonely life you had lived before in those regards.

You were trapped, chipped, and alone. Any attempt you had made to leave by yourself, for any reason, had been swiftly thwarted by Hoseok. The knowledge of the tracker embedded in your neck reminded you that there was no point in running anyways, he would always find you.

You tried to remind yourself that this would all be worth it in the end, that you could handle these weeks if it meant getting your old life back. But as each week passed, you weren’t so sure that was true any more.

You were in a cyclical hell that you couldn’t manage.

You had opened the door one day at the sound of someone outside it, it had been a new neighbor, a young man with full lips and an unusual laugh. Your heart had soared at the opportunity of being able to speak to someone other than a six year old or your possessive husband, but that had been quickly thwarted.

Hoseok had pulled you back into the apartment and exited into the hallway, shutting the door behind him with a grim glare.

You never spoke to that neighbor again.

Hoseok had become more needy as each week passed and you had taken to sleeping in Jihoon’s bed with him as often as you could, feeling protected by the boy you called your son. But your distance didn’t help in any manner, Hoseok was becoming more aggressive and more irritable. Not with your son, never with your son, but with you.

He grabbed onto you more, touched you more, kissed you harder, and eventually forced you back into sleeping in your bedroom.

You faked an illness for a few days to keep him at bay. That was how you got to this point. He was desperate.

Hoseok was taking you on a work trip, just you, without your son. It was a city or two over, you would be staying at a hotel and having dinner with his coworkers there that same day. He was a desperate man calling for desperate measures to be alone with his wife. That meant that you had no more excuses and no Jihoon to protect you.

Jihoon had cried when you said you had to go away with Hoseok, he didn’t want to go and stay with Hoseok’s mother, he wanted you two. And that part of your heart that had grown to accommodate him was slowly breaking with each tear that rolled down his cheeks.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t love him.

You knew that you weren’t the best mother, you didn’t know what a good mother was like. Yours was efficient at best. So you dug down deep for what maternal instincts you had, held him close, dried his tears, and kissed his chubby cheeks.

And you told him you loved him. The first person you ever loved.

So, that was how you found yourself here, at a table with a bunch of boring men and their partners talking about their work with Hoseok’s hand gripping your thigh, his finger rubbing circles into the skin beneath the length of your dress.

You were incredibly bored of this ordeal. All of these men were business executives and their concepts of how to run a business were rudimentary at best. It took everything in you to keep your mouth closed to not correct them in front of their higher ups and embarrass them for the everyday mistakes they were making.

“Play along.” Namjoon had said, so that was what you did.

Although you may be a mother now, you would always be a business woman and a successful one at that. They didn’t deserve your expertise.

Your eyes lazily drifted away from the table, zoning out as their voices became reduced to a low rumble. And that was when you saw it, a flash of black fur and glowing jade eyes on the ledge outside the window.

Taehyung. It was time.

Your heart leapt with joy, a smile carving into your once stony expression. You could go home now, you could finally wake up from this nightmare. A sharp squeeze to your thigh grounded you, a pit rolling in your stomach. You had to get away from Hoseok.

He was staring at you, confused by the sudden appearance of your joyful grin.

You leaned close to him, whispering lowly, “I have to use the ladies room.”

“I’ll take you.” He replied, going to scoot his chair away from the table.

You gripped his forearm, bringing him to a halt. “No, this is important for you, I’ll only be a moment.”

He stared at you in silence, assessing you and trying to figure out what you were getting at before he spoke. “Behave.”

You nodded quickly before excusing yourself from the table and rushing down the hallway. You had seen a large balcony on your way to the restaurant on the top floor, it was only a little ways away.

As soon as you stepped foot onto the balcony, you saw him. Taehyung was there, resting on the balcony as the sun slowly drifted away behind a cover of clouds, a gentle rain was beginning to tap the marble floor beneath you.

You approached him quickly, your heart pumping in time with the gentle rumble of thunder above you. Taehyung came to a stand on the railing, the sharp drop off beside him glaring at you.

“We have to do it this way, again?” You asked, your hands wrapping around the railing beside him as you peered over. You were even higher now than you had been the first time, sharp tingles were shooting through your hands and feet as you stared down at the streets below.

Taehyung stared at you in silence, his eyes blinking slowly twice. You would take that as a yes.

So, you carefully sat yourself up on the railing and turned, allowing your feet to dangle over the ledge. You watched in horror as your heels slipped off and went plummeting down to the ground. It took them a long time to meet the pavement, it would be a long fall for you.

“Fuck, are all of you reapers this dramatic?” You hissed at the cat. He looked amused at your predicament.

“Okay, let’s do this thing.” You huffed, reaching your hand out to touch the reapers silky midnight fur.

And that was when you heard the panicked call of your name. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting Hoseok’s. His face was ashen, his hands held up as he attempted to approach you. Your eyes caught sight of his phone held up in one of his hands, a blinking dot on a grid staring back at you. He had accessed your tracker.

“Baby, what are you doing?” He asked you, taking small, slow steps in your direction. “Come here, let’s talk, okay?”

“You can’t stop me,” You replied, “I won’t do this any longer.”

“You don’t know what you're saying, you're just stressed and scared. We can get through this.”

“I know what I’m doing, Hoseok. I’m done, my time is up and I need to go.”

“And what about me? What about Jihoon?”

Jihoon. A chill spread through your body, your eyes suddenly stinging. You didn’t know that would be the last time you would hug him or say goodbye. He didn’t know that was the last day he would have a mother.

“Jihoon will be fine.” You said firmly, Taehyung was creeping closer to you now at the same pace that Hoseok was. Your time was coming to a close, Hoseok was trying to compete with death. It was obvious who was going to win.

“I won’t let you do this.” He snapped back, frustration, desperation and fear taking over him as he flung his phone aside and began to run to you.

“You don’t own me.” You spat back.

And then you grabbed Taehyung and clutched him to your chest before slipping off the edge of the balcony, Hoseok’s fingers just brushing your skin before you plummeted off the side of the building.

Death was easier.

~~~~~~~

First, there was darkness.

And then there was the sound of monitors beeping around you.

Your eyes felt as heavy as lead, refusing to open on your command. And for a small, brief moment, you were afraid that when you opened your eyes he would be there. You were afraid that you had missed the window and you were trapped with him again.

But when you did manage to open your eyes, the person sleeping in the chair beside you was Jenny.

You did it.

Everyone was surprised by your survival and your recovery. The fall you had should have shattered your bones, mashed your brain, drained you of your blood. But you survived with minimal injuries. Some people called it a miracle, others thought you were a medical mystery.

And Jenny though you were stupid.

“What the fuck were you doing on that ledge? Were you that drunk or are you just that fucking stupid!” She yelled through her tears.

“Both.” You answered, your face completely deadpan as she rained down a series of hits to your arms in retaliation.

You laughed through it until she finally calmed down, a huffing mess in her chair beside you. “In all honesty, there was a cat on my balcony and I was trying to save it.”

“Oh my god, you are that fucking stupid aren’t you?” She said, shaking her head. “If you want a cat’s attention you lure it with food you dumbass! You are the dumbest smart person I know.” She sighed into her hands.

The two of you remained quiet for a moment as she collected herself and you took in the room around you. There were no cards, no balloons, and no flowers.

“So, I guess none of my family could clear some time in their busy schedules to come see me.” You said, quietly.

Jenny raised her head, sympathy etched into the features of her face. “Do you want honesty, or do you want me to sugar coat it?”

You bit your lip in thought before making up your mind. “Honesty.”

Jenny took in a deep breath before scooting her plastic chair closer to your gurney. “Your family is...distancing themselves from you for the time being.”

“Distancing?” You echoed in confusion.

“The media hasn’t taken too kindly to your...accident. Every tabloid is talking about the woman who has it all trying to throw it away. The public isn’t very happy with you at the moment.”

“The same wouldn’t be said if I had died.” You mumbled, because that was the truth. Nobody cared until it was far too late, their true intentions hiding beneath their masks of sorrow. It didn’t matter how much money you had, you had never been happy, and had your accident truly been an attempt well, maybe it was only a matter of time.

“And what does my family think?”

“They aren’t too happy with you either. Your mother and father have put on a face for the public, wishing you a speedy recovery, but they left you a memo. They aren’t ready to speak with you yet, not until you do something to find your way back into their good graces. Your siblings, on the other hand, have said nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

You had forgotten how lonely this life was. Thoughts of Jihoon tugged at your heart strings, his little whispers of “I love you’s,” your after school snacks and cuddles, and the soft voice he used when he would wake you up in the morning with a gentle: “Mommy?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Jenny said quickly.

Your brow wrinkled in confusion before you felt it, the cool, wet, glide of a tear rolling down the side of your cheek. You were crying.

“It’s not you, Jenny. I’m just thinking about someone I love.”

~~~~~~~

You had returned to work almost immediately upon being discharged from the hospital. Jenny called you stupid, you called it trying to return to your only family. You knew you shouldn’t care about their opinion, not when they so clearly showed their disappointment in you and their lack of care. But they were all you had, they were your family, your blood. They made you what you were.

Right?

So there you were, back to wearing those red bottom heels, those tailored suits, and those glasses you hadn’t touched in so long, hidden behind your desk in your office.

You had kept your cool and your composure when you entered the office, doing your best to show you were unfazed by the shocked stares and the hushed whispers between your employees. You kept your composure only to throw your office door shut and slump against it with panicked pants for air.

No matter how hard you tried, you knew you were never going to be the same anymore. Not after your fall, not after the crossroads, and not after Hoseok. You were broken in ways you couldn’t even comprehend.

Even now, sitting at your desk, eyes trained on your computer, your finger swept over the skin at the nape of your neck, mindlessly feeling for the bump, the tracker that was once buried there. You were only met with seamless skin and irritation from the constant rubbing. You wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up rubbing the back of your neck raw.

A soft knock to your door had you sighing in relief, you needed some respite from the thoughts that were racing a million miles a minute in your mind. You were mentally exhausted from everything you had gone through. You removed your glasses, pressing your cool fingers to your eyes. Your hands were hurting again.

There was a loud crash as the door clicked shut, the sound of liquid spilling violently all over the floor of your office and the thick, strong odor of coffee. And then, there was the shocked gasp of your name.

A familiar chill traced down your spine at the voice, your heart kicking into overdrive. No, it couldn’t be. You rose from your chair causing it to spin away, your breathing quickening as you began to panic.

It was Hoseok, standing there in your office in a puddle of coffee.

Jenny’s words from all those weeks ago came flooding back into your mind. “The poor thing was so nervous, you really should be nicer to him. He has such a sweet smile…”

You stepped backwards in fear, your world suddenly crashing down on you in one fatal swoop.

He called your name again, a similar panic on his face as he crossed the room in distress. “Please! You, you have to help me! I don’t know what's going on but it feels like my head is being torn apart!”

Tears were rushing down your cheeks in endless rivers now. You had walked so far backwards that you were pinned against the tall windows behind you with nowhere left to go.

“I have two lives, two sets of memories running parallel in my head and I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t!”

You closed your eyes, your body shaking and shutting down the closer he got. And then his hands were on your shoulders, shaking you in his grasp as he began to hyperventilate.

“Where’s Jihoon?! Where did he go?! He cried, his body trembling in tune with your own as he was bombarded with memories he knew and ones he didn’t. He was too close now, his body pressed tightly to your own in that same suffocating manner as he panicked, his mind being torn apart for reasons unknown to him, holding onto you to ground himself.

You were beginning to understand now amidst the haze of panic. Namjoon had said he was putting you in a different place, in a different time. He had never said in a different life. You hadn’t become someone else, you had been moved six years forward in time. Those painful weeks you had lived through with the guise of them being temporary had all been for absolutely nothing. You were doomed to live out the life you had been trapped in.

It was fate.

“Where is our son?!”

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