#and apparently my brain decided the appropriate response was to burst into tears

[neondiamond]

.

[yyxgin]

lee felix’s guide to hating you

— ♡ FIC BANNER MADE BY THE AMAZING @chogiwow !!

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader genre: college au, tutor au ; fluff, angst, slice of life, slow burn word count: 21 k warnings: mentions of alcohol, mention of weed, swearing, bad family relationships

a/n: this story is very briefly inspired by jaemin’s drama ‘the way i hate you’ :) also this idea has been in my mind for such a long time, so i’m happy i finally managed to write it. this is also my longest fic so far, i hope it’s worth it. uhh yea enjoy <3

taglist: @feyregels​ @missskzbiased​ @hyunyin​ @koishua​ @crispy-chan​ @rindomo​ @soulssung​ @thatrandomoneinthecorner​ @90shermione​ @chogiwow​ @creatichee​ @freckledberries​ @hyunnies-stars​ 

There’s a list of things Lee Felix knew before applying for college-- and that is: 1) he really, desperately needs a degree for his grandparents to value him as an equal adult, 2) college in young adult movies seems like fun and partying and alcohol really does sound like his wettest dream, 3) he doesn’t need to work for another 4 years, which is fun and 5) he is really, horribly bad at studying.

Here’s a list of things Lee Felix, however, did not know before applying for college, and even though it’s fairly shorter, it hits you in the guts deeper, and that is: 1) studying for college means never ending chapters of insomnia and 2) he is always going to feel like the second choice for everyone. 

You see, girls don’t like Felix that much. Well, that’s a lie-- girls do go after him, tell him he’s cute and his freckles are adorable, but that’s only after they find out there’s no use in chasing after his best friend Han Jisung when he gets himself a new significant other. Boys don’t go after Felix either. Why, you may ask? Read the paragraph over again-- just change the word girls to the word boys. It’s as simple as that. He’s always the second choice, the back-up plan. It feels silly to drag his grandma into this, really, but the truth is, he’s a second choice in every aspect of his life, and that, too, includes his big (and still growing) family that treats him as something less than a human just because of the fact that his grades aren’t as good as his cousin’s are and he doesn’t have a degree in biological science, although he’s too young for that and his college years only started. It’s hard, living in his shoes.

What is Felix, however, really good at? 

Cheating.

Yeah, well, you see-- it’s not funny to be the outcast of the smart Lee family and it’s also not enetaining in the slightest to be the only single one at family gatherings (read as: weddings, because every single one of his relatives decided to fuck up their life with marriage in the past three years for some unknown reason). So Felix does what he’s the best at, and that is going by his favorite life motto: fake it ‘til you make it. 

He cheats on every single one of his exams and believe me when I tell you he’s the top of the class just because he’s the best cheater in town. Good cheating techniques equal good grades and suddenly, Felix’s life seems much brighter when he spends his sleepless nights with creating cheat sheets instead of studying and copying essays written in korean, translating them to english and submitting them as his own because no one will ever notice-- his degree is within the reach of his hand and he can already feel all the grandmas of the family clapping in joy, maybe even wiping away a stray tear on his graduation ceremony in a few years with bouquets of flowers in their hands and expensive watches in their gift bags, ready to welcome him back into the family.. 

What he doesn’t expect, though, is the cute little saying of ‘every lie has short legs’ he swears he heard sometimes in his linguistic class before, coming to life right in front of his eyes as the professor of his Biology class makes him the assigned tutor of the sweet Y/N Y/L/N, because, well, he clearly doesn’t know anything-- what’s he supposed to tutor now? 

The best cheating techniques?

The freckled boy sitting in front of you looks at you with furrowed brows and you wonder what’s the matter with him. Is there something on your face? Are you not dressed appropriately for the occasion? I mean, it’s only a tutoring session, so you didn’t put that much effort into it, but judging from the casual outfit enveloping his body, he didn’t really try to look fancy either. So what was it with him that made him stare you down as if you had horns on your head?

“Shall we start?” he asks once he’s done staring, voice sounding determined. You wonder if he sees the hints of nervousness on your face and if he notices the way you shrink in your seat in the mention of biology, but you guess he doesn’t know you that well to know that you fear the subject as much as you fear dying. 

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, scooting closer to the edge of your seat so you’re not so far away from the table. Felix-- your new biology tutor-- is sitting opposite of you and it’s quite difficult to read the text book once it’s upside down, but you don’t dare to mention it to him for a reason that’s unknown to you as well. It’s like you don’t want to overstep any invisible boundary on your first tutoring session, and telling the person that is teaching you to turn around the text book so you can actually see and learn something seems to be one of the taboos in your eyes. 

You take a quick glance at the waiter that just stopped next to your booth and smile, opening up your mouth to order yourself a meal. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.

“No-” Felix offers her with a shy smile, but you cut him off with a voice a little higher in the octaves, not wanting your tutor coming in between you and reaching your biggest goal you’ve set for yourself.

“Actually, yes. Could I please get the chicken wings? With fries?” you ask, trying to look as innocent as you can, smiling at her in politeness. You ignore the confused look Lee Felix is offering you from the other side of the table. You mentally send him a signal to tell him to mind his own business, watching the waitress leave with a nod and a polite smile. 

“Okay, now we can start,” you nod at him and focus all your attention to the boy with sandy hair in front of you.

“O...kay?” he answers, obviously trying to bat away his rising confusion, because ordering yourself chicken wings on your tutoring session is prohibited now, apparently. “So,” he starts, sighing and scratching the back of his neck, “what do you not understand from this section?” 

You nervously chew on the bottom of your lip. Well, that’s a sweet question, you think. It would have been much sweeter and much easier to answer, though, if you understood at least a bit from the things you’re supposed to know. You went to university with the urge to prove something to yourself, but the only thing you’re proving to yourself right now is the fact that you are actually kind of useless, when it comes to biology.

“Just like the… whole thing, actually,” you nod, trying not to look as defeated as you feel and also trying not to burst out in a manic laugh as you always do when you feel slightly nervous about anything.

“Cool, cool, yeah,” he nods, taking a deep breath in, turning the textbook around and sighing, “I don’t think I can help you with that.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” you ask, confused. 

Lee Felix is the top of the grade. He is the best at biology, he is the best at chemistry, he is the best at his farmacy class. You’re sure he’ll be a fine biochemist in a few years, when his college times are over. Lee Felix is the smartest boy in your biology class and you are, coincidentally, quite the opposite on this spectrum. Which is exactly why your teacher managed to make Felix tutor you in his free time. You weren’t surprised at the fact that the blonde boy agreed to this-- he was quite the sweetheart, really. All the girls in your class fawned upon the way his freckles shined in the sunlight and the way he opened the doors for older professors. He was quite the boy you would want to introduce to your parents. Not quite the one every girl goes after, but the one that you would want to settle down with after your college years are over.

So why is he, the sweet, but also smart boy that agreed to tutor you, now telling you he can’t help you?

“It’s just.. I’m not really good at this section, I mean-”

“Felix, you’re the top of the class. Of course you’re good at this section.” you mumble, gazing deep into his eyes, trying to search for an answer.

“I-” he says and takes a sharp breath in, stopping himself in continuing his train of thought and just opting to shrug, not giving you a proper response either.

You feel like someone just punched you in the gut, and that’s when you realise-- here it is again. Another person that doesn’t believe in you-- another person that needs proving that you really can do it, you just need a little push. You can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t think you’re smart or bright enough to pass the exams, you’re not good enough to get good grades. It’s nothing new to you, but it still haunts you just the same.

“Is it because you know I can’t do it?” you bluntly ask, sighing. 

“No! No, no, I never said that-” he says, almost panicking with the way his hands fly into the air hurriedly, waving them around as if it was meant to calm you down. 

“You’re acting like it, though. I promise I’m not stupid- well, maybe I am, but-”

“You’re not stupid! It’s me! I’m the stupid one here.” he says, effectively silencing you with his words as you stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s joking, right?

“How can you be stupid when you get only the best grades? Felix, if you just don’t want to waste your time here, tell me, but don’t try to hide behind poor excuses.” you roll your eyes, feeling frustrated at the boy’s antics. Does he really think you’re that stupid that you can’t see right through his lies?

“I cheat.”

You blink a few times as if to reset your brain, gazing at him with pure confusion written in your orbs. He cheats? No. That’s a lie. A person as good at biology as Felix can’t cheat. All his exams are on 100% and he never makes any mistakes. He’s the epitome of the smart kid. The little Einstein. The prodigy. There’s no way it’s all cheating.

“No.” you shake your head in disapproval. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying! Look, I genuinely, really want to help you. I really do. The thing is, though, I don’t know how to study. I make cheat sheets and I use them at every exam and every test, that’s why everyone thinks I’m super smart, but that is really not the case,” he shakes his head, staring into your eyes with his wide open in honesty, wanting you-- no,-- needing you to understand. “I would tutor you if I could, really, but I just don’t know how to,” he sighs finally, acting like he’s just given birth or ran a marathon, exhaustion written all over his face.

“So why did you offer to tutor me, then?” you ask.

He takes a moment for himself to collect his thoughts, before he speaks up again. “Well, I didn’t really want to get caught. You see, I would never turn my back to anyone. Really. So I thought I could at least try to learn something? So I could help you? But I failed, as always, so I’m just coming clean in front of you and you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

The moment the last sentence leaves his mouth, you notice the apparent fear in his eyes, realising that he just shared an information with you that nobody really knows. It’s a secret he’s been hiding and keeping from everyone just to appear as the smartest one-- fooling everyone, including you. You feel even more stupid now, under his gaze. You feel played. You came to the tutoring, hoping to finally get a grip, when all you get is a person that is stepping all over the sandcastle of your fragile dreams, kicking every little piece of sand away with his lies. You know you shouldn’t feel so invested in this. You shouldn’t feel so hurt. But somehow, you still do. 

“So you just told me you are lying to everyone and cheating on tests and you want me to keep it a secret from everyone?” you ask in disbelief.

“Yes.” he nods, eyes hopeful. He’s been lying for the last year as if his life was depending on it and now he wants you to do the same-- keep quiet in front of everyone.

“And what do I do when the professor asks me why I’m not getting any better? Huh? Ever thought of that?” you leash out, harshly chewing on your bottom lip in nerves. “I want to pass. And I want to do it fair and square.” you get out in between your teeth.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think of that yet, but-”

“Leave.” you say, looking him sternly into his eyes.

“What do you mean, leave?”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. And you’re clearly not here to teach me anything, so you can just take your things and leave.” you spit out, crossing your hands over your chest.

“You leave, then,” he mutters, looking rather offended. You’re not sure why he’s the one hurt right now, but you guess that’s just how men and their egos are, there’s nothing more under his hurt eyes and shattered self-esteem.

“I ordered food, I’m not leaving.” you calmly respond. Once you say this, you’re reminded of the little quest you made for yourself. Never once did you feel silly for taking it so seriously in front of your other friends, but now, in front of Lee Felix with freckled dusted cheeks, you feel almost invisible as you realise why you even ordered the chicken wings and how you’re going to write a yelp review about them later.

Well, someone has to do it, and if not you, then who will, right? It’s the only valid way to find out who makes the best chicken wings in the town and not even your traitor-tutor is going to stop you now, when your list is only getting shorter and shorter. 

He stares at you for a few moments, dumbfounded, before he sighs and accepts his defeat. “Okay, I’ll just have to text my roommate to pick me up,” he admits.

You nod, just in time the server comes back with your food, offering her a welcoming smile. “Fine. But don’t even think of talking to me from now on. I’m not interested in more lies,” you spit at him, scowling as you take a look at the plate of chicken wings sitting in front of you in their full glory. You sense a very bad review, judging from the way the chicken wings look nothing like wings, rather full on small chickens dipped in oil, but dive in nonetheless. 

“Why do you have to be so dramatic?” he asks, voice coated in disbelief.

“Because I was scammed!” you yell out, mouth full of chicken, not caring a second about the way you might look in the boy’s eyes. Yes, you could have at least swallowed before speaking to him, but did you do it? No. No, you didn’t. 

“Oh come on-”

“Don’t even try arguing with me!” you spit at him-- quite glad that this time, it’s not literal-- and huff out in annoyance, when the door opens and a short boy with a bucket hat on steps into the bistro, the red fabric of the seats of the booths contrasting with his shoes in a way that makes you feel captivated, your eyes refusing to tear themselves away from him. 

The boy is taking quick steps to your booth and you almost choke on your chicken wings as you admire his full glory-- tanned skin and car keys in his hand, but his eyes meet the boy sitting opposite of you and that’s when everything clicks. This is not the boy of your dreams, this is Han Jisung. Your tutor’s best friend and roommate-- also known as the resident heartbreaker. You shouldn’t feel weak in your knees when you look at him, but that’s exactly what happens and you won’t feel ashamed about it. Well, not now, at least. In a few hours when you’re lying in your bed? Maybe. But I’ll tell you then.

“Yo, dude, I texted you like five minutes ago that I’m waiting for you outside, what are you still doing here?” he asks, furrowing his brows at his roommate and slowly moving his eyes to you, scanning you up and down, leaving your heart to do the stupid cartwheel you haven’t felt since, like, middle school. 

“We were in the middle of an argument, so I didn’t hear my phone ring.” Felix answers, glaring at you with spiteful eyes. You almost prepare to kill him with yours, but you focus on wiping the oil from the corner of your mouth and smiling heavenly, trying to look like a lady in front of your new visitor.

“Was Felix being absolutely unbearable again?” he asks you, surprising you with his subtle way of engaging you into the conversation.

You giggle, rolling your eyes slightly. “Yeah. You know him too well, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately,” he admits, looking defeated, when he moves his eyes to Felix, looking rather sulky on the red seat in front of you as you chat with his roommate, when Jisung’s tone of voice changes into a more worried one, speaking up again, “does she… did you…?”

“Yeah,” Felix just nods. 

Jisung sighs, sitting down next to his roommate, pushing him a little so he has more space in the booth. “What are you supposed to tutor her anyway?” he asks.

“Biology,” you mumble sooner than Felix gets the chance to speak up, motioning to the textbook still sitting at the table in front of you. 

The boy takes a look at the papers, his face changing from a focused one to a one more lighter, his eyes scanning the papers with ease. You notice his mouth moving a little as he reads the words under his breath, catching yourself from staring when you feel Felix’s eyes burning into the crown of your head, snapping you back to reality. 

“You know… maybe I could help you with that.” he says, looking like a business offering you a deal that you’re sure involves something illegal. He looks like a focused squirrel with his cheeks puffed out a little in what you sense is pride, something in his eyes glowing as you nervously chew on your bottom lip.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m actually quite good at biology, to be honest. Well, not as much as Felix over here-” he jokes, scowling when the blonde boy punches his arm, “but I think I could tutor you a thing or two.”

“What’s the catch?” you ask, nervously watching him. Something in his composure is telling you he’ll want something in return, but you don’t know what yet. You’re quite sure you’ll sell your soul for the adorable boy in front of you if he asked you to, but it never hurts to ask beforehand, right? 

“What do you mean, what’s the catch?”

“Like… what do you want in return?” you muse out, taking a bite of a fry, noticing how soggy it feels under your teeth.

“Woah, you spend 15 minutes with Felix and you already think there’s something illegal behind everything? I’ll let you know, I’m better than that.” he scoffs. “I’m just doing it because I see how miserable you are. And I also don’t want you to tell on my buddie over here.” he adds, smiling warmly.

You take notice of the way Felix’s eyes grow twice their size and how Jisung’s knee lightly bumps into his under the table. It’s subtle, but you think that maybe this is when you fully fell for the short boy in front of you-- when he offered to save his best friend’s ass by helping out a lost girl with biology. And who are you to say no now? I mean, you need the tutoring nonetheless. Who cares if the boy tutoring you is someone else? Maybe it’s even more appealing to you this way, but you’ll never admit that out loud.

“Okay then, sure.” you nod, grinning from ear to ear, feeling satisfied.

“Great. Now, give me half the fries and we can arrange our next tutoring session,” he smiles, “oh, and I’m Han Jisung, by the way.”

He winks. 

You should be disturbed, but strangely, you’re not. You grin back at him, offering him the soggy fries you’re sure you’re going to give a really bad review in the evening, watching his composure change into a more laid-back one, engaging you in a conversation and slunging an arm around his best friend’s shoulders.

Lee Felix remains silent. He feels it once again-- he feels the loneliness of being left out. 

And he’s sure it won’t be the last time.

Lee Felix knows damn well how it feels to be the third wheel. He’s hung out with Jisung and his potential love interests multiple times, he’s even been on double dates with the said male, yet, he always somehow ends up being left out. So why does it still feel the same? Why does he still feel that restless feeling in his stomach, the emptiness in his chest, just like the first time? I guess you never get used to some things and emotions are one of them. No matter how much you argue that you know a feeling so well it doesn’t even surprise you anymore, it still hurts the same. That’s funny about emotions. Sometimes, they can’t even make you numb.

“Hurry up dude, the bistro closes in an hour and half!” Jisung rushes the taller male (not tall, just taller. Don’t misunderstand.) with his car keys in his hand, twirling them around his fingers in a nervous manner. Felix notices his roommate has put some effort into his outfit today, considering the lemon supreme shirt enveloping his body that he saves only for special occasions, yet, Felix doesn’t realise why he had to put it on when they’re literally just going out to eat some soggy fries in the bistro close to their house. He doesn’t ask, though. He doesn’t want the car key stuck in his forehead. He also doesn’t know why they have to rush so much, since they have an hour and half left before they close, but again, he doesn’t dare to say it out loud. 

Felix quickly puts his shoes on and rolls his eyes at his roommate. “I’m ready,” he announces.

Jisung swiftly takes a bottle of cologne from the table in their small hall (it’s so small they don’t even have a mirror in it, because there was no use in taking mirror selfies when all you can see on the picture is your phone case due to the fact that the room is too narrow for you to move further away) and sprays his body wit hit, efficiently confusing his roommate. “You wanna smell great for the waiter there? Because from what I remember, he was a stoner-”

“Oh, shut up. You never know when you’re gonna meet someone cute, am I right?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear like a cat, taking his backpack with him and opening the front door, “gotta look and smell presentable at all times.”

Felix wonders if this is why everyone always goes after his best friend. 

No, he thinks, it cannot be the cloud of cologne hanging around his body. It’s heavy and it makes Felix cough a little, but he tries to mask it, because he’s fairly sure Jisung won’t pay for his fries today if he doesn’t. And Felix is a simple man-- if he can get something for free, he will do anything to achieve it.

They arrive at the place in a few minutes and Felix can already feel his mouth watering at the thought of the salty fries and cheeseburger he’s going to get himself, joyfully skipping inside the bistro and waiting in the queue. Jisung follows him, standing next to him, efficiently covering the smell of the oil and all the good things on this earth-- read as fast food-- making Felix scowl. The boy behind the register, is, in fact, Na Jaemin-- the resident frat boy. Felix’s heard all about him from the girls staying at the dorms and to be honest, he’s quite glad he doesn’t have to live the stories of getting caught with weed at Jaemin's party on his own. That, and the fact that hot water runs in his apartment. Na Jemin might have the weed, but he surely doesn’t have that in his college dorm room. 

“Three milkshakes, two large fries, chicken wings and a cheeseburger, please.” Jisung orders, confusing Felix in one sentence. Since when is his best friend a bottomless pot for food? Is he really going to eat all of that?

“Coming right at you. Anything else?” Jaemin asks, voice considerate and polite, still turned on his customer service mode, even though Felix is sure him and Jisung have had shared a joint or two on one of his parties before.

“No, that’s all. Thanks, man,” Jisung answers, leaving with Felix right behind him. 

“Who’s gonna eat all of that? I hope you know you’re paying, and before you protest, yes, I did purposefully leave my wallet at home-” he rambles, still moving, when his train of thought is cut off by a person in his view.

You are sitting there in your full glory, smiling brightly at the boys approaching you. You’re dressed nicely, he notices-- you look like you put some effort into what you’re wearing. You don’t look that much different, but he can still see the slight changes you made to look neat. You’re glowing, Felix notices. You look excited.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jisung greets, taking a seat opposite of you. He doesn’t even give Felix an answer, he doesn’t even give him an explanation. He’s left there only to take a seat next to his roommate after collecting his thoughts, chewing on his bottom lip.

The conversation never moves his way. He is silenced. Felix wonders why he was even invited, watching the people behind the window laughing with their friends, happy to order some tasty food and have fun on this Thursday evening. He watches his friend and his classmate have fun-- well, as much fun as a tutoring session could be. You’re laughing at every single one of Jisung’s jokes and he swears Jisung’s eyes never leave your face, even when he’s explaining something to you. He wonders why Jisung didn’t tell him where they’re going. He wonders why he even had to come.

Lee Felix knows how third-wheeling feels. Yet, it still makes his little foolish heart hurt just the same every time.

You nervously chew on your bottom lip, cracking your knuckles in a habit your friends always scream at you for, waiting for your tutor-- well, he’s not really your tutor anymore-- to appear in the bistro on the other side of the town. You admire the decorations for a while, liking the way it looks modern here and the purple led lights make the whole place look aesthetic. You can already imagine multiple college kids going here and taking instagram pictures to look cool. It’s nice and you’ll definitely include it in your yelp review-- it won’t make it more stars, though, if the chicken wings don’t taste like heaven.

You tug on the sleeves on your hoodie, as if you were trying to make yourself disappear. I mean, you do feel embarrassing. You feel pathetic that it had to come down to this, but you guess desperate times call for desperate solutions. You’re not here to look put-together anymore. You’re going to show him your full glory and although you regret it a little, you still have a little spark of hope in you that Han Jisung-- the boy you, admittedly, were crashing on real hard right now, won’t find out.

Felix comes into the bistro in his full VSCO boy glory, as always. He is wearing a jean jacket and his freckled cheeks are dusted pink, you’d almost think he’s blushing all the time. He doesn’t quite fit the aesthetics of this futuristic looking bistro, you notice. The retro places you’ve been to so far fit him much more-- his sandy hair contrasted well with the yellow walls and red booths. It was starting to get a little repetitive, though, you must admit.

“Hi,” he greets you as he takes his seat, smiling at you with what you can only describe as a feeling of full uncomfort. You wonder what made him feel this way about you, but you don’t dare to think of it twice as you focus on the main quest of the day-- forcing him to teach you his ways.

“Hello,” you smile. 

Felix notices how natural you look-- it feels like now is the first time he’s seeing you in your full glory. You aren’t wearing your neat clothes for a meeting with Jisung and you’re not too casual like you were at your first ‘tutoring session’ either-- you’re just you. The way he doesn’t even see you in classes. He likes the fact that no one else than him can see you like this-- he likes the fact that Jisung is nowhere around, yet, he wonders why is that, exactly, since the two of you seemed to be hitting it off quite well so far.

Felix hasn’t been with Jisung when he last tutored you. He figured there’s no use, he’s going to get ignored all the time anyway. 

“So… what’s the matter?” he asks, folding his hands into his lap. He dares to take a quick look at you, noticing your worn-out shirt and dark circles under your eyes, worry washing over him. Did something happen? Was Jisung a jerk to you? 

“Well, I sort-of have a little problem,” you mumble out, tearing your gaze away from him. You seem shy for the first time in front of him and he wonders why. He doesn’t understand your sudden change of behaviour. This isn’t the you he’s used to. “Well, turns out, I am really stupid.” you propose, leaving Felix to gaze at you in surprise.

He chuckles. You swiftly look up at him with piercing eyes telling him to stop, and he almost does, but your face looks too adorable when it’s scrunched up like that, so he only giggles once more. “You’re not stupid.”

“I am!” you whine out, finally letting your whole shy facade fall, exposing the true you once again right in front of Felix’s eyes-- direct and fierceful. “Even Jisung’s tutoring isn’t helping and I feel so stupid with him! And I don’t want him to think that I’m stupid, even though I am, and I just… I can’t pass my exams like this, so I need your help.” you say, eyes big, looking almost pleading.

“And I am supposed to help… how? Exactly?” The confusion is written all over his face, and it almost makes you frustrated. You knew he must be smart, if his cheating has been so good he’s getting through college with straight As, but really, is he really that smart if he can’t read in between the lines?

“Help me cheat.” you quickly get out, biting down on your lower lip just as you say it, as if you were regretting it.

The silence that overtakes the two of you feels like it’s slowly going to eat you up alive, angrily biting into your skin. It feels heavy and suffocating, your palms sweating as you watch Felix blink at you with mouth agape, breathing in and out. You pray for him to make up his mind soon, or else you’re going to run out of the bistro without a yelp review, tearing the skin of your cuticles as you see him blink quickly a few times before shaking his head in disbelief, clearing his storage.

“You want me to help you cheat?” he asks for clarification, furrowing his brows at you.

“That’s correct.” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You haven’t been this nervous since you took your college entrance exams, and that shows a lot, considering you used to say that has been the most difficult experience of your life so far.

“Because Jisung…. isn’t tutoring you well enough?” he asks again, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“Hey, don’t put the blame on Jisung! I’m just stupid, that’s all.” you say, looking down into your lap, because his gaze suddenly feels like he’s judging you and you really don’t feel like maintaining eye contact with him when you’re under pressure.

“If you don’t stop saying that, I will kick you.”

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“I would and I will-”

“Okay, but is that a yes, then?” you look up at him with hopeful eyes, resembling a puppy just a little too much, and, well, Felix can’t just reject you now, can he?

“I.. guess…?” he says, watching your face light up in joy as you clap a few times in excitement. 

“Great! Can we start today? We have to start today! I brought my text books and papers and sharpies and-” you are cut off by Felix’s face lighting up at the sight of you, his eyes looking warm and admiring. You quickly shake away the excitement before it goes too far and you actually go to hug him or something, taking a deep breath in and out to calm yourself down.

Just in that moment, the server appears with two servings of chicken wings and two large fries, making Felix look at you in confusion. 

“I ordered you food, since I thought we’ll stick around for a while..” you mumble, seeing him eagerly nod and take one fry into his hand, biting down on it with a face full of pleasure. 

“Perfect. Just let me eat a few of these and we can get right into work, I promise,” he mutters with a mouth full of food, prompting you to take a bite yourself. It doesn’t taste the worst-- the bistro you went to after prom last year was definitely worse than this, but still, you don’t think Felix’s face quite resembles how the food tastes. He looks as if the Queen of England made it. In reality, it’s just a soggy fry. 

“Why do you always order the same thing? Aren’t you tired of eating the same thing over and over again?” he asks suddenly, examining your face with real interest. No one’s ever noticed your eating habits before, just shrugging off what you order every single time. Your little fast food experiment has been a secret so far, even though it wasn’t that hard to cover it up-- nobody really cared until now. 

You feel blush creeping on your cheeks as you shrug, feeling a little embarrassed for like the hundredth time today, when you reply to the boy in front of you. You know his secret, so it only feels valid for him to know yours. “I have this experiment… like, I try chicken wings and fries at every single bistro, restaurant and fast food chain in the town to find out which one’s the best…” you mumble, looking into your plate instead of facing him out of the ugly feeling of patheticness creeping up your back.

“Oh, that’s cool!” he exclaims, pointing his fry your direction, a response you didn’t quite expect, “Where do they have the best ones so far?” he asks, genuine interest painting his features.

“Oh,” you get out, feeling your lips unvoliteraly tug into a smile, “I don’t.. I still have a few bistros and the McDonald’s on the highway out of the city left, but I’d say the best ones so far were at Wendy’s. I didn’t quite like the chicken wings there, though, so…”

“Hmm,” he nods, deep in thought, “we just get food at where’s the closest.” he says, munching on a chicken wing. “I guess we could pay a little more attention to the food from now on, because after eating this, I’m never going to eat the food from the bistro right in front of our flat again.”

“Yeah, that bistro’s really awful. I only gave it around 2.5 stars, I think-” you say, before you realise you just spilled out another secret to him, feeling your cheeks heating up. 

“2.5 stars? What, do you write yelp reviews or something?” he asks, clearly amused by your accidental spill-out.

“And what if I do?” you defend yourself, glaring at him with fake annoyance. No man will ever make fun of you because you write yelp reviews. Not Lee Felix, even though he seems too nice to actually make fun of you because of something, not anyone. 

“That’s cool, though! Those help so much when you travel,” he says, eagerly nodding at you with big eyes and an adorable grin plastered on his face, making you feel understood and happy with just the sudden sign of acceptance. Turns out your little weird obsession isn’t as embarrassing as you thought it was. Or Lee Felix really is the sweetest guy walking on this earth. Either one is fine in your books.

You stay there for a few hours and Felix teaches you the basic cheat codes-- never meet the teacher’s eye, never finish your tests too quickly, always forcefully pick the wrong option before scribbling it out and putting in a correct one to not seem too suspicious. He even takes a piece of paper from you and scribbles down the basic cheat-sheet making structure. 

He feels good with you. He feels useful. He knows he shouldn’t be teaching you this, but really, is it really doing any harm? We all have to go through college somehow.

Yet, all evenings always end the same for Felix, with a bad feeling in his gut and a fake smile on his face hiding the true meaning behind his actions. He’ll never be the first choice and you remind him even today, after you leave the ‘tutoring session’ with a quick hug to the male, lowering your voice so only he can hear when you pay him your goodbyes.

“Don’t tell Jisung, okay?”

Of course. It’s all because you don’t want to look embarrassing in front of his best friend.

It goes all how you planned it to-- you’re sitting at your next tutoring session with two males in front of you. One of them is your supposed tutor and one of them is a boy that’s helping you pass your exams for real. You’re into one of them, even though you shouldn’t. You wonder how you even ended up in this mess. You swear you were a good student in high school, always submitting your assignments on time and making sure your tests were on 100%. It was kind of fueling your ego, in a way. You had no other plans in your life to hold on to, no dreams to dream, so you reasoned to do the only thing that you were good at-- getting good grades. You had to prove to yourself that there was a reason, a meaning behind your life. You had to prove to yourself that your existence was valid.

You watch Jisung with interest. You pray to god that he doesn’t catch you in your act, because that would surely be embarrassing. You don’t want him to find out that you’re just fine with cheating, because that meant your tutoring sessions with the male would end and there was no other reason for you to see him. You knew Han Jisung wasn’t interested in you. You were sure you’d see it on him if he was. And even then, you weren’t interested in only a short relationship without any good point. You liked Jisung, but you didn’t like his reputation. One week wasn’t long enough for you to waste your time on him and get your heart broken. You weren’t sure if he was a player, or if he just wanted to desperately find the one by trying all the possibilities, but you weren’t going to find out. 

Felix watches you with interest in his eyes-- but you don’t notice. He prays that Jisung doesn’t find out about your secret little ‘tutoring sessions’, because that would mean he wouldn’t have a reason to hang out with you anymore. And Felix really doesn’t want that to happen. For some reason, he doesn’t want you to ever frown. And he’s sure that’s exactly what would happen if Jisung cancelled.

It doesn’t click to him what’s happening inside of his little, foolish heart when he sees you smile at Jisung and his stomach fills with worry. 

It doesn’t click to him what’s happening with him when every time Jisung subtly takes your hand in his makes his insides twitch in frustration. He thinks it’s just because of the fact that he’s third-wheeling again, like all his life, and maybe that is partly true, but it’s not the whole reason behind the cloud around his head.

It clicks only when him and his roommate are back home, sitting at the dinner table with the left-overs from the new bistro you three went to, munching on the chicken wings and another pack of soggy french fries and the cola they had in their fridge.

“So… what do you think about Y/N?” Jisung asks suddenly, making Felix furrow his brows in confusion.

“What should I think? She’s smart, I guess…” he mumbles, mouth full of food, not quite grasping the full meaning of his roommate’s question. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung quickly nods in approval, “she’s getting really good. I mean, you can still see she’s having some troubles when I’m tutoring her, but at least she always gets good grades on tests now,” he says, biting down on another piece of chicken wing. Felix feels a wave of pride wash over him after hearing the words-- of course you’re doing well on exams. It’s all Felix’s doing. You’re a quick learner, when it comes to cheating. 

“Yeah, she’s good,” he says. 

“Well,” Jisung suddenly starts, meaning to sound nonchalantly, but only sounding like he’s determining his biggest life secret in front of his friend instead, “I like her.”

Felix almost chokes on the piece of chicken in his mouth, trying to play it off with a small chuckle. “Oh? You do?”

“Yeah. Should I.. Should I ask her on a date or something?” he asks and Felix swears he can see his friend’s cheeks reddening a little, even though the last time he’s seen Jisung embarrassed was when he accidentally called their Math’s teacher mum in eleventh grade. 

“You don’t date, though,” Felix opposes.

“That’s not true-”

“Two weeks long relationships aren’t relationships, Jisung.” 

“Not my fault they’re never the one! It gets boring after a while, Felix, I can’t just-”

“Why are you even asking me this?” Felix suddenly cuts him off, glaring at him. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting in such a way. It’s not like it’s the first time Jisung is going to date someone for two weeks just to break their heart, it’s not the first time they’re going to run after Felix a week after just so they can still be around the one that broke their heart. This time, though, he does not want to see another heart get broken.

“Jesus, chill, man… I was just asking, since you two seem closer. Did she mention anything about me? Is she dating anyone?” Jisung asks, eyes lighting up.

Felix could be an asshole. He could tell Jisung that you’re already dating someone, he could tell him to back off and that you’re not interested. However, he does not do that. Instead, he does the quite opposite. He pushes his best friend into asking you out, he tells him he should try it, because that’s just the kind of person he is. Besides, he knows you’re into him. Maybe the smile on your face could make him forget about the fact that you’re going to get your heart broken. 

“Sure, go for it.” he shrugs, “I don’t really care anyway.”

“Fine, then-”

“I’m gonna shower.” Felix says, quickly standing up from his chair and moving to the bathroom, quickly escaping the conversation.

Only then he realises what he feeling in his gut means, only then he notices the way his sigh feels like the weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders and he can’t breathe any time you’re around Han Jisung. 

He realises he likes you. 

And clearly, you don’t like him back.

Emotions are something you never quite get used to. Even the emotion of feeling rejection, the emotion of always being behind his best friend’s shadow. Lee Felix is always just the friend. Never the love interest. This time, though, it feels even more heavy, because in a way, you seem way more special in his eyes than the people that went after him just to get with his best friend.

This time, he does not want to see another heart get broken. Because it’s your heart we’re talking about.

And to prevent his heart shattering to even more pieces, he has to do something.

He has to stop liking you.

As soon as possible.

“Y/N?” 

“Mhhm?” you ask, raising your eyes up from the cheat sheet you’re creating with Felix’s help, the grease of the fries you’re eating glistening on your chin. You’re with him in a yet another crappy bistro, trying yet another soggy fries, and even though there’s nothing special on you to a stranger’s eye, Felix’s heart can’t help but run twice the speed of light. 

“How do you stop liking someone?” he mumbles, furrowing his brows a little, deep in thought. 

“Oh, do you like someone?” you ask, and Felix momentarily lights up at the thought of you caring if he’s interested in someone, but when his eyes meet yours and he notices them glistening and lightening up in curiosity, he realises it’s just because you’re happy for him. As a good friend should be. 

“No, no,” he quickly shakes his head in disapproval, snickering to himself, “I’m just asking. Because, think, what if, hypothetically, there’s someone who is into someone else. Easy, right? But what if their best friend likes the same person? And you know you shouldn’t like them because they’re into their friend as well? What is there to do at that point?” 

You scan his face for a few seconds, thinking to yourself. “Hmm,” you start, “I guess you have to start hating them. So the feelings disappear.” you nod, satisfied with your answer.

“How’s that possible?” he asks, scoffing.

“Well, I don’t know, since it’s all hypothetical anyway,” you giggle, focusing back on your cheat sheet. Your notes are getting smaller and smaller and Felix notices the improvement in your small lettering, making your cheat sheet less noticeable. You’re learning quickly.

“Oh come on,” he whines, kicking your leg under the table, “talk to me. How can a person start hating someone? Give me a tutorial.” 

“Well, since you really need to know,” you roll your eyes, putting away the pen from your hand and resting your back against the seat of the booth, “there are a few steps you can take.”

“For example?”

“Well, you have to stop hanging out with them, first thing’s first.” you start. “Because if you don’t hang out with them, you will eventually hate the fact that they’re not near, which will, logically, make you hate them instead.”

“Is that really logical, though?” Felix asks, furrowing his brows at you. In his books, this made no sense at all, but you seemed pretty satisfied with your answer.

“Of course it is! Then, you have to find something about them that you can hate. Anything. Find even the smallest thing, and blow it up in your mind until you hate it. Easy, right?” 

“...I don’t think that’s helping at all,” he says, tone of voice unsure. 

“Of course it is! You’re just refusing that it can be true, because you think I’m stupid.” you stick out his tongue at him, focusing on your work instead.

He kicks you under the table, making you scowl. “Ow! What was that for?”

“I told you that if you’ll make that comment again, I will kick you. So I just did right that.” he says. “Besides, your ideas are stupid. Not you. There’s a difference in that.” he smartly points out, making you roll your eyes at him.

“So, who is it that you like?”

“No one. I told you, it’s hypothetical.” he glares at you.

“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just stick to that, since that means Jisung doesn’t like anyone and I still have a chance.” you smile at him, obviously missing out on the way your words just punched him into the gut. Felix laughs it out, kicking you in the shin instead.

“Right. Of course you do,” he nods. He wishes he didn’t mean that.

You two remain in silence for a moment, while you get back to your work and Felix pretends he’s playing a game on his phone. You don’t notice the way his eyes scan you over, admiring you, once in a while. No one ever does. He guesses this is the perk of always being just the friend. The one people are friends with just because they want something from him. The one that gets taken advantage of. He chooses not to think about it more. Maybe if he did, he could hate you over it, if he wasn’t so used to that feeling anyway. 

“We should hang out on the weekend,” you say, taking him by surprise.

“Oh?” he mumbles out, “with Jisung?”

“No?” you furrow your brows, “look, I know I look like I’m obsessed with him, but I actually just want to hang out with you alone as friends once in a while, you know.”

“We’re hanging out now, though.”

“It’s midnight, Felix,” you point out, “and we’re working. I want to hang out with my friend, like a normal person, you know.” you shrug.

“Yeah…” he says, when your words resonate in his mind like a broken curse. ‘Don’t hang out with them.’ Don’t hang out with her. You have to hate her. He has to start hating you-- there’s no other way. And so, he turns to taking your words into consideration. He can’t meet with you if he’s not ‘tutoring’ you. There’s no way. “We’ll see. I’ll tell you if I’m free.” he smiles warmly instead, because truth be told, he’ll never tell you no to your eyes. He’s always been a bit of a coward. And he also doesn’t want you to frown. Ever.

“Great!” you smile. 

And when Felix comes home that night, at 2am in the morning when his roommate is already asleep-- not knowing of your secret meetings, he lays down in his bed and repeats your advice like a broken mantra. He can’t like you. He has to hate you.

Lee Felix’s guide to hating you: 1. Don’t hang out with her. Only meet her when it’s necessary. If you don’t meet her, you’ll start hating her absence, resulting in hating her altogether. 2. Find a small thing about her to blow up so much you start to hate it. 

That’s not difficult. He hates that you like Han Jisung. It’s a small mistake, a small flaw, but he’s ready to blow it up so much he hates you for it. He hates that he’s not the first choice. He hates that you don’t like him.

Maybe he would hate you more if you were dating his best friend for real.

Lee Felix’s guide to hating you: 1. Don’t hang out with her. 2. Find a thing to hate about her. SUCCESS! 3. Set her up with Han Jisung.

Now, this plan is bulletproof, isn’t it?

Felix unexpectedly breaks the first step of his guide only a few days later-- on a chilly friday afternoon, when his body is hurriedly skipping to the edge of the town centre only to meet with you. Just for the record, though, Felix didn’t intend to break the promise he gave to himself. He really wasn’t going to hang out with you if he didn’t specifically need to, but, well… you called Jisung to hang out. Felix’s heart almost skipped a few beats when he was added to a three-person big group chat with you and his roommate and at that point, he wasn’t going to reject an invitation to the fare in town, because he was fairly sure Jisung didn’t like rollercoasters and he wanted to see you laugh your ass off at him in front of everyone. Is it a little spiteful? Possibly. Does he care? Not that much.

Besides, it’s only one time. It will never happen again!!

He finds you with your black leather jacket on, stepping from one leg to the other, looking around like a lost puppy. Felix mentally curses at himself for not coming sooner so you wouldn’t feel so alone and awkward in the mass of people, when he realises he’s already 15 minutes late because of his afternoon class and his roommate is nowhere to be found.

“Thank god! I thought you were going to bail on me as well,” you call out when Felix is close enough, smiling at him.

“Where’s Jisung?”

“He texted me like 5 minutes ago that he can’t make it today. Something about his mum being in town? I’m not sure,” you furrow your brows, “at least you’re here now, though.”

Felix is met with the realisation that he’s left alone with you again, mentally cursing at himself. This surely does not look like a plan to hating you. It looks like a bullet-proof plan on how to fall even deeper for you, with how your stray hairs are flying around your head and you adorably scrunch up your nose and sniffle from the cold. 

“Should we go?” he forces out of himself, looking at you hopefully.

“Yeah!” you nod, striding a few steps in front of him like a happy school girl excited to go to school for the first time. Felix can’t surpass the gentle smile forming on his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. You look so cheerful and so joyful, making his heart swell with how easily you manage to make him feel so young again. 

He follows you gladly, managing to match his speed with yours, almost forgetting for a moment that he’s not on a date with you, almost forgetting about the fact that you like his best friend and the smile you’re giving him is nothing against the wide grin you offer to his roommate.

“Let’s go on that one!” you cheer, taking Felix by the hand and tugging him your way, not once giving him the opportunity of letting go as you drag him all around the fare. You remind him of his younger sister with how excited you get about the smallest things and he realises he wants to protect your heart from the world just as much as he wants to protect his little sister’s. It’s not the same feeling, though. The affection he feels for you is different. 

Felix doesn’t find it in him to tell you no whenever you tug him on another ride, even when his legs are tired and his jaw hurts from smiling. He finds himself wanting to capture your image into his brain forever, imprint the happy memory in there so he can find it and look at it whenever his heart feels lonely. For the first time in ages, he forgets about everything. He forgets that he’s just the friend, the other choice. He completely forgets that Han Jisung was supposed to be there, at his place, sitting next to you on the ferris wheel as you watch the night city under you with cold cheeks and frozen bodies.

“You must be sad that Jisung isn’t here with you right now. That would surely feel much more romantic than sitting here with me,” Felix says bitterly once the reality hits him for a second, once his heart is unsheltered for a short moment and your eyes meet.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, “Jisung can’t be romantic. Besides, if I really wanted a date with him so badly, I wouldn’t have asked you to come with us, would I?” you smile at him, swinging your legs forward and backward, focusing your eyes somewhere into the distance again.

“Well, if you really want to go on a date with him, you can just ask him, you know?” he mumbles, playing with the dead skin on his thumb.

“So he can stand me up and go on a date with his mum again? I don’t know, Felix, is that really worth it?” you giggle, not noticing the way you’re messing with the boy’s head, not noticing the way a small spark of hope lights up somewhere in the deep pits of his stomach when you mention not wanting to ask his best friend out. 

“I don’t know, is it?”

“I’ll have to think about it.” you muse out, and the spark is gone. Of course it’s not that simple. 

Felix just nods and grins at you. The chilly air helps him hide his red cheeks when he thinks of how embarrassing his thoughts must have been in the past quick seconds. He focuses on your face, on the way your eyes crinkle up a little when you stare somewhere far into the distance and your hair flies a little with the breeze. The ferris wheel just reached the top, so he has plenty of time to keep admiring you from so close, but somehow, the moment still feels so short and he wishes he could stop the time. He wishes he could stop the time so he didn’t have to face the reality when he comes down from the ferris wheel. He wishes he didn’t have to see you fall in love with his friend, he wishes he didn’t have to act like he doesn’t care at all. 

“Thanks for helping me, by the way. I wouldn’t have passed my exams if it wasn’t for you and that… that would be really hard on me.” you get out, locking your eyes with his sincerely. He sees your eyes shining even so high above the ground, convincing him the sparkles really must be the stars, when he takes a deep breath in and responds.

“It’s no problem, I get it… I mean, it’s what you gotta do. What we gotta do, when we want to pass. And graduate,” he chuckles. 

Does he really want the degree, though? Or does he just need it to feel like he has some worth? Does he want to graduate or does he just want his parents to value him as an adult, does he really want to continue working so hard on passing or would he just be so much happier if he just dropped out. And saved himself so much stress. He should have known he was never smart enough for college.

“Yeah. I despise the smart kids in our class. I wish I were them,” you scoff, “I despise Jisung, in a way, too,” you add after a dramatic pause.

“Jisung?” Felix furrows his brows.

“Yeah,” you nod, like it’s the clearest thing in the world, “I mean, he’s smart enough to pass. He’s… he’s got his life figured out, in a way. He’s just fine. Getting all the girls and the guys, getting good grades, going on dinner dates with his mum on Fridays,” you giggle, “I mean, I want that. That sounds nice.”

Felix huffs, staring into the distance, “I guess you’re right.” He knows damn well how jealousy feels. 

“I came to college to prove to myself that my life has some worth, but I guess the only thing I prove to myself is that I can’t even pass my exams without help.” you sigh, sounding defeated.

“Hey,” he nudges you a little with his foot, “don’t say that. Life isn’t about grades, degrees and that shit. Of course you have worth and value.” 

He sees you smile in defeat, leaning your head on his shoulder. The feeling of acceptance, pure understanding washes over the two of you, when you gently speak up again. “Try to explain that to my brain.” 

He lightly giggles. “I’m trying, as you can see.”

You look up at him from his shoulder, scrunching up your nose and leaning closer to him, whispering. “It’s not working.” you laugh.

“I know it’s not easy,” he shakes his head, “I’ve been trying to tell that to my family for the past 21 years.” he slips out. Something about you makes him spill out even things he’s never told anyone before, but he finds himself not caring as you approach his eyes with pure serenity mixed with melancholy.

“Is it all because of your parents?” you ask, “the cheating, I mean.”

Felix feels his eyes giving him out, so he chooses not to look at you anymore. “I mean, I would have dropped out long ago if I didn’t have to feel so worthless around my family then. Every single one of my cousins is smart, has a degree and earns a killing. I’m just me-- living from the money I earned over summer, trying not to lose my mind with biology.”

He hears you humming next to him, your head moving as you nod in understatement. The ferris wheel is slowly reaching the bottom again and Felix finds the fact quite relieving. He doesn’t mind having deep talks with you, he just fears he might spill out something both of you don’t want to hear.

“I’m glad you came with me today, Lix.” you smile at him once the two of you reach the bottom, “wanna hear a secret?”

“Spill it out,” he dares you, grinning.

“I only invited Jisung because I thought you didn’t want to hang out with me alone.” you confess, quickly turning around in your spot as you jog a few steps in front of him, carelessly, as if you just didn’t make Felix’s heart stop and insides twitch in excitement. He prays and hopes it’s not just you giving him false hope, he wishes it’s not his mind playing tricks on him. 

“I-” 

“And now that I know you don’t mind being around me, do you wanna go to the dog cafe with me next Wednesday? You know, the one I talked about.” you turn around, flashing him a smile worth a billion dollars, taking him by surprise as his breathing hitches and he doesn’t find it in him to reject you ever again.

“Sure.”

Second step of Lee Felix’s guide to helping you: find a small thing about you he doesn’t like to blow up so much he starts hating you altogether. 

He was so sure that he found the small thing just a few days ago. He thought that the fact that you like his best friend could be enough for him to start hating you. He could sit on that thought for long enough to pick it up to the smallest pieces and over-analyse it to the point he could start hating you. 

And he tries to do just that-- he lies awake at night thinking of how every single person he’s ever been interested in slipped right between his fingers just because of Jisung’s existence. He wonders why he’s never good enough to anyone, why he always has to be the second choice even for tutoring (even though it’s not even tutoring, but we won’t talk about that anymore). He thinks of how you’re so foolish to think your relationship with Jisung is going to last, because Jisung’s feelings never stay the same for long. He over-analyses the smallest things he notices on you when you’re in Jisung’s presence until the point he’s almost sure he can do it, he can hate you for it just a little, in a way, but then, the thought flies right out of the open window as his roommate crashes into his door in the middle of the night.

He startles awake, sitting up at his bed, watching the short male going in with much difficulty, sitting on his bed without a word.

“Jisung?”

“Lixie, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?” Jisung whines, laying down on the bed next to his friend. Felix doesn’t think it’s only due to the late hours of the night that his friend’s words aren’t making any sense, but he doesn’t dare to put his finger on it until he makes sure for himself.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N.”

Your name coming out of his lips hits Felix like a baseball bat, hurting in all the right places, as the young male finds it in him to continue the conversation.

“What about her?”

“She asked us to hang out together. And I didn’t go. I know it wasn’t my fault, because my mum was in the town, but still, I feel so bad, because now it must look like I’m not interested in her and that I don’t care and I really don’t want that, you know?” he stummers, making Felix realise his friend talks a lot when he’s under the influence of alcohol just the same second Jisung’s breath catches in Felix’s nose, only proving his point. 

“You didn’t fuck it up, don’t worry.” he muses. And it’s true. Jisung could never truly fuck it up with anyone. Even his exes always crumble up around his feet, wanting attention even after getting their heart broken. Will it be the same with you?

“She must think I don’t like her. And that’s horrible-that’s- that’s- I like her. Very much,” he whines again, getting closer to Felix and wrapping his arms around the blonde’s torso in a wave of affection that only washes over him when he’s drunk.

“Sung-” he stutters, desperately trying to push him away, but even though Jisung doesn’t look like it, he is a strong individual when it comes to involuntary cuddling. Felix can never escape his arms.

“I think she’s special, you know? She’s like- I can’t explain it. It’s like with her, I actually want to try. I want to ask her on dates and love her and give her my heart, because you know, I never dared to give my heart to anyone. And no one’s ever made me feel truly special before…” he mutters, forcing his nose to Felix’s neck, “I’m rambling too much, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Felix sighs, nodding. He doesn’t battle his arms anymore. Jisung is his friend, at the end of the day. He can hold him when he needs it.

“Sorry.” he says shortly, sighing as well. The room falls into silence and Felix’s head spins again, his thoughts spiral like a tornado and the eye of the storm is you-- standing there with that stupid smile on your face and he once again realises that he needs to hate you in order to shelter his own heart, because you’re like a hurricane when it comes a to a person’s emotions.

The fact is, though, he could never hate you for liking his best friend. 

Han Jisung is too likable for his own good. His heart is too big for this world, and truth be told, he’s been sharing it with everyone for such a long time now, he deserves to find someone he’s willing to give his all to. 

He could never hate you for liking Jisung-- the boy who smiles at everyone in the halls, the boy that offered him to live in the flat his parent’s bought for him in freshman year, the boy that helps him hide his cheating secret every day. He could never hate you for liking Jisung, because he himself knows too well how much of a treasure his dear friend is. 

He gets it. He gets why people always choose Jisung over him. He could never blame you.

“Sung?”

“Hmm?”

“Ask Y/N out to the dog cafe on Wednesday. She'll love it.”

Felix could never hate you.

Step three of Felix’s bullet-proof guide to hating you is quite simple and actually the only one he completes with success. Setting you up with Jisung on a date is easier than he ever imagined, considering the fact that his roommate decided to finally take things into his own hands and call you on a date after the drunken weeping episode in Felix’s bed. 

Jisung invites you on a date to the dog café in town. The two of you go on Wednesday and although Felix feels like he just gave his roommate a piece of him, an invitation that was never meant for him in the first place, he feels at ease, because at least one part of his plan is working. He could never hate you, but at least now, it will be easier for him to ignore his growing feelings for you when you spend all your time with Jisung on dates and ice cream runs. He only has to ignore his feelings in school and at your ‘tutoring’ sessions. He wonders how long these will be a secret in front of your new boyfriend. Jisung’s not your boyfriend yet, but Felix can only imagine how short the time he isn’t is going to last. 

Felix does the stupid mistake of opening the instagram app in the evening, when he’s curled up in his bed with an embarrassingly big bowl of popcorn on his bed side table, serving him as his depression food. He sees your post show up, an adorable picture of you from the dog café, a big golden retriever in your lap as you giggle at its face. The picture is candid and looks like the kind Felix would like to keep as his lock screen if he had the chance. He’s sure his best friend took it for you not only from the fact that you went out with him tonight, but also for the fact that he’s tagged in the post’s description with a big blue heart emoji. 

He could stop staring at the picture if he really wanted, he could mute your posts and pretend you never existed to shelter his poor heart. He could do everything in his strength to cut all his ties with you. That would make it so much easier for him, wouldn’t it?

But he doesn't. And maybe he doesn’t even want to-- he’s used to the pain anyway, isn’t he? The bitterness, the feeling of being pushed away, ignored and left forgotten. 

He was supposed to be in Jisung’s place now, but that doesn’t change the simple fact that he isn’t-- maybe it was never his place to claim anyway. 

Felix stares at the picture for minutes, wondering of how things could be if you only didn’t fall for his best friend. Or if he came with you today. Who knows, maybe it wasn’t too late for him to ask you on a date. Maybe he could still change your mind. Felix likes to give up on things too quickly, though, and that is the curse that will follow him his whole life. 

Lee Felix is good at cheating. He is insanely good at it, he would also say it’s the only thing he’s ever been good at. Pretending.

It’s his time to shine again. It’s time to pretend he doesn’t like you, pretend you don’t hurt him, pretend he isn’t in love with his best friend’s crush. He’s been always the best at cheating and now it’s time to cheat his way out of liking you. 

Sounds easy, doesn’t it?

“You must be really hungry, if you’re planning to eat all of that in one setting,” Felix mumbles, watching you as you eat yet another plate of chicken wings in yet another pointless bistro in town. Felix wonders how you even know about all of these, since the one you’re both sitting in right now, in the middle of the night, looks rather lonely. It doesn’t even seem that welcoming-- it has graffiti on the walls and the seats are a little torn on the edges, but you don’t seem to care as you munch on the chicken, eyes big when you stare back at your companion.

“I eat a lot when I’m stressed,” you mutter in between your bites, mouth full. You look natural like this and Felix realises this is you in his mind-- cheeks full of food, that little wrinkle in between your brows when you look at him, eyes staring big into his like a loyal dog. This is how he knows you, in your rawest form, and this is coincidentally, also, how he likes you the most. He loves and treasures every single version of you, but your late-night meetings feel of different kind of intimacy to him that he’s sure he’s going to think of even when he’s old and his college years are dusty like an old polaroid picture.  

“Stressed?” he asks, tone of voice a little more worried than usual. Felix always worries about you. Even when you quietly take out your cheat sheet from under the table and write your answers down. He doesn’t fear being caught-- he frankly doesn’t care that much, but he knows that you are having a battle with yourself and he really doesn’t want you to feel like you lost. He didn’t know it was so easy to put someone else first when you worry for the future. 

“The finals are coming up.” you clarify, the words coming out a little bashful and smitten.

“Oh.” he nods. 

You’re both quiet for a while. It would be cheesy to say the silence was comfortable, and Felix knows, he’s seen enough teenage dramas to know these words are used in situations like this, but the truth is, there’s no other way to describe it, and he understands that now. Your determination shines through all your edges and he’s glad you’re doing what you can with the resources you have. You’re not exactly studying for your Biology finals, but it’s still as hard and as stressful as that. It can feel a little embarrassing at times, but there’s no other way around it. You have to battle your enemy, even if it means the game is not fair.

“And those chicken wings are fucking good, dude,” you mutter after a while, offering him one of the paper baskets the server brought you a few minutes ago, looking rather stoned and not interested in your presence at all.

“Don’t tell me this rotten place is winning your chicken wings and fries contest,” Felix snickers, taking a bite that, to his surprise, actually tastes the best out of the amount of fast food chains and restaurants you’ve brought him to. You should never judge a book by its cover and this bistro is clearly one of the examples.

“I have only one place left to go, so we’ll see then, but I guess it might just be the top place right now,” you muse out, a wide grin decorating your features as you glance up at Felix that watches you scribble down your notes on a mini piece of paper.

“Wanna go with me there? After the finals, of course. We can celebrate if we pass,” you point out, licking your lips in nerves, “I don’t think I’ll need these ‘tutoring sessions’ anymore then, but I still want to hang out sometime.” you say, putting air quotes around the words tutoring session, looking at him with expectations in your eyes.

“Oh, sure,” he agrees, nodding. “I have to be there when you finally declare your last yelp review.”

You only laugh at him and shake your head, eating some more as you look down into your notes again, lost in work. “I still don’t get how you can do these so fast.”

“I already know what’s the most useful. You don’t have to copy the whole textbook on there.”

“You can never know! What if I’ll need it all?” you exclaim, only making him laugh harder.

He points his eyes out of the window, watching the empty parking lot. You didn’t come in your car today, telling Felix your house is close anyway, and Felix doesn’t dare to drive his car anywhere unless he doesn’t need to. He has a little bit of a trauma since the last time he drove with his dad and he almost ran the car into a tree, getting a shower of swear words and exclamations from his dear father, so he only drives his small white Renault when he needs to go home. Which is, coincidentally, next week. 

“I really don’t want to go home next week,” he sighs.

“Your family is still onto you for the smallest shit?” you ask, tone of voice sympathetic.

“Yeah. Can’t wait to graduate so I don’t have to listen to them talking about a degree anymore,” he rolls his eyes, “I only have to find myself a partner so my grandma can shut up about me being single all the time.”

You softly laugh, making Felix look at you for a moment, his heart skipping a few beats when your eyes meet for a little more seconds than usual. “I’m sorry. You can always text me, though, if you need anyone to talk or gossip with.” you say, averting your eyes from his.

“You’d have to be on your phone 24/7, then. My mental stability comes down by 70% when I’m back home and it’s already only on 15% now,” Felix snickers.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll be staying here anyway.” you say, giggling.

“You’re not coming back home?”

“No,” you shake your head in disapproval, quickly glancing into his eyes before speaking up again, “it’s my parent’s wedding anniversary, so they’re going on a holiday. There’s no use in me coming home if I’m just going to be alone there anyway,” you shrug.

Felix hums, nodding in understatement. “That makes sense. I’m sorry you can’t meet your family on holidays, though.”

“It’s okay,” you say, “I see them often anyway. One Christmas won’t kill me. I have a whole season of Game of thrones to catch up on anyway.” you light-heartedly laugh, sounding like Felix’s favorite song. He smiles with you, shaking his head in disbelief at how positively you can always see the world, when he glances out of the window for a moment again, only to be met with a surprise. 

There are white flakes of snow falling from the sky and something in Felix wakes up-- something he’d call happiness, maybe even joy, when he quickly shoots up from his seat and calls you with excitement coating his voice, “Y/N! Y/N! Come on!”

“Come where? Felix, what are you-” 

He doesn’t let you finish as he takes you by the hand and tugs you on your feet, tugging you out of the empty bistro out into the dark parking lot, admiring the snowflakes falling onto the ground and every surface in his sight. He sees some stick into your hair, making him giggle as his outstretched hand dusts them off subconsciously, when he starts running around like a happy child, laughter coming out of his throat filling the silence.

“It’s snowing!” you exclaim, when Felix reaches your body frozen in its place again. He reminds you of a golden retriever when he jumps a little in his place, his feet happily crouching in the snow. You laugh at his antics when he starts acting like a little boy, this side of Felix being so new to you, yet you can’t help but feel your heart swell with admiration when he asks you to catch some snow into your mouth.

“Felix! That’s disgusting!” you refuse, laughing.

“Oh come on! It’s just water!” he cheers, leaning his head back and opening his mouth wide, waiting for the snow to fall into his mouth. 

“But it’s unhygienic and dirty! You have to be kidding me!” you still reject his idea, standing your ground firmly as always in your life so far, when a face of a boy looking like an angel takes you by surprise and his big eyes plead you in a way that makes you drop all your grudges and all your beliefs down, rolling your eyes when he pouts, leaning your head back as well and opening your mouth with a loud ‘aaaa’ sound to satisfy his foolish heart.

Once you both feel a snowflake hitting your tongues, you look at each other with your tongues out, laughing at how stupid the other one looks, pointing to your tongues. You shake your head. “It melted off, you stupid!”

“You did the same thing!” he bursts out laughing, bending over in the force of his emotions. You watch him with a wide grin plastered onto your face. It feels like watching a movie. You don’t think you’ll ever have a brighter memory with the boy in front of you, with his cheeks red from the snow and smile so wide it hurts both of your jaws.

You instinctively take his hands into yours, looking down on your feet as you start going around in a circle with him, going quicker and quicker as you watch your footprints in the snow mixing with his, the dry skin of his hands making you feel strange. You laugh out when your head starts spinning, looking up at him to find him already staring at you with stars in his eyes, when you wonder,

isn’t this how love is supposed to feel?

All of his life, Felix had thought that family gatherings could always either go two ways, and that is: 1) a normal, boring meet-ups where your grandma asks about how school’s going, when you’re going to finally find a partner and another one of your cousin’s announces their engagement party, or 2) the actual engagement parties-- every single family member including the senile grandma from mum’s side gets drunk and you don’t have to think about more fake reasons why you have yet to lose your virginity.

You see, Felix is wrong in a lot of things. And this was surely one of them-- it’s the December 27th and he’s sitting in his grandma’s old kitchen, the wind blowing through the cracks of her window and the sweets on the table have already melted from the heat being too high, because his aunt is always cold and they can’t compromise. That sounds fine, even usual, Felix would say, however, the fire lights up a few moments later when his head starts to hurt from all the talking and he begins to dissociate a little too much, meaning that his grandma now has to shift her attention from all of his other relatives to him, because how dare he stay quiet on a family gathering where he has nothing to add to the conversation, right?

It starts off as usual, the answers to these questions digged deep into Felix’s brain since the first year of college. He doesn’t even bat an eye when he answers the questions directed at his studies and grades, telling all of his interested relatives that he’s working hard and it’s paying off. Nobody complains or disagrees-- his grades are awesome. His degree is here soon. Felix almost thinks he’s over with when his grandma laughs at a poor joke that comes out of his mouth, but that was only a bad prediction as he moves on to questions about his love life, which are, believe me or not, much more boring and much more ego-hurting for the blonde.

“Do you have a girlfriend yet, Felix?” she asks, tone of voice sounding rather interested, but don’t believe her-- it’s only an act. She’s ready to laugh into his face when he gives her the answer she’s hoping for.

“No, not yet, grandma,” he mumbles, averting his eyes from her wrinkley face as soon as possible. He really doesn’t need to look at her any longer to know she’s silently judging him on the inside, because that’s just how his grandmother is. 

“That’s such a shame… I wonder why… You’re such a pretty young boy, aren’t you?” she mutters under her nose, tone almost whiney, “what about your roommate? Jisung, was it?”

Felix takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes for a second to calm his rising heart beat. He could have predicted questions like this coming, because the conversation always somehow diverted to his roommate even when he was at home with his family. It’s crazy, how everyone just seems to adore Jisung much more than their own family member. 

“He’s.. Yeah. He’s always with someone, you know him. Not now, though, now he’s single,” Felix nods, explaining.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll find someone soon,” she admits, “he’s such a gentleman. And so handsome as well, isn’t he?” she asks, his aunt from her right side nodding quickly at the mention of Han Jisung. 

“He always has so many people around him, he’s so charming. If only you were more like him, maybe then someone would date you as well,” his grandma says calmly, not even noticing the way her words cut deeper and deeper into Felix’s heart, kicking him and punching him like a boxing bag, “you should try to be more like him.”

Felix bites down on his lower lip, rolling his eyes. Frustration coats his voice once he speaks up, the built-up anger living inside of him like an animal kept well in its cage. He doesn’t want to let it out, because he fears what it might do once it’s free, but he still retorts to a dig addressed to his grandma, huffing in annoyance. “Should I send Jisung home instead of me next time?”

“Oh no, Felix, what are you even saying right now?” his grandma looks rather offended, eyes twice their usual size as she glares at him.

“Well, since you like him so much.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was just saying that-”

“Leave it.” Felix says. 

The atmosphere is too heavy now, all eyes on him as if he was in a circus, watching him just moments before his breaking. He realises he no longer feels welcome in this place and maybe he never did, he just chose to ignore it by now, because that’s what he always does when a problem appears-- he chooses ignorance. Ignorance is Felix’s best friend, and although it may sound like he’s running away from his problems all the time, it’s always worked so far. He’s just protecting his heart, building walls around it. 

He doesn’t want to fight. He hates conflict. So, even though he’d like to snap, even though he’d like to leash out like an animal, he doesn’t. He steps back-- as he always does, taking the car keys from the table and escaping the house, hearing the calls of his mother after him. He doesn’t bother to say goodbye, he doesn’t even bother to look back nor take the Christmas gifts his grandma brought for everyone. 

He sits into the small white Renault he drives once a year when he comes back home, starts the engine and speeds up to the limit, driving away from all of his problems. He doesn’t want to hear their complaints, he doesn’t want to listen. It’s the best this way. He wants to ignore the words that came out of his grandma’s mouth, but he can’t find it in him as he hears them resonate in his head over and over again. 

He’s the second choice even in his own family. He’s a joke to everyone, isn’t he? Just the side character, the one that never gets the spotlight. It hurts, it hurts him so much, but he pays no attention to his blurry vision, because even though he���s fairly sure no one from his family would miss him, he doesn’t want to drive off the road and kill himself with his escape.

He parks the car in front of his and Jisung’s flat after a few hours. He’s fairly good at it, considering he never drives, and mentally puts up a middle finger to his dad in his head for screaming at him so much. He was in a much calmer headspace when he was driving with his dad than he was now, yet, he didn’t manage to drive anyone over. 

Putting his feet into the cold, empty apartment, turning the heating on and plopping down on the sofa, he once again realises how lonely it feels. Not only because of the feeling of abandonment the dark flat resonates, but also due to the fact that it truly feels like now, he’s all alone in this world. The silence screams louder than any words ever could, his ears lowly ringing without any sound in the small room, which makes him wonder if he’s truly the only one that has to spend his holidays pretty much alone. Maybe it’s his fault that he’s fucked it up with his family, who knows-- but that’s a topic for another overthinking session of his, when he decides to let it go once his eyes meet the snow silently falling down behind the window. 

The dark mixed with the white balls of fluff in the air remind him of you. Your bubbly laugh, the feeling of your skin on his when you held his hands and danced around with him in the snow. He feels a smile growing on his face, despite everything he’s heard today, his fingers involuntarily texting you to see if you’re doing anything and if you can hang out with him today. 

He meets you at the door a few minutes later, your nose runny from the cold and hands dry, smiling at you with a sense he can only describe as belonging, because he realises, maybe you feel just as lonely as him on holidays and suddenly, he no longer feels sorry for leaving.

“Why are you even here, Lix? Shouldn’t you be at home?” you ask him when you’re taking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the hanger by the door. He bites down on his lower lip to suppress a bitter chuckle. 

“Christmas got cancelled this year.” he shrugs. 

It’s not like he doesn’t trust you. You know better than anyone what his struggles are-- he asked you to keep his secrets numerous times. It’s just that now that you’re here, it’s like his soul finally feels calm and he no longer wants to whine about his grandma or his aunts anymore. It’s just you and him and the empty apartment. If he was anyone else, maybe he’d try to get into your pants. He’s just Lee Felix though, and he’s absolutely, wholeheartedly in love with you, he realises, and believe me, it kind of takes him over the edge, and so he doesn’t try anything. 

And you look at him in understatement, no other questions asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s all a capitalistic holiday anyway,” he shrugs.

You follow him into the living room and he throws the remote control into your lap, telling you to choose a movie before he comes back with popcorn. 

“If you don’t pick anything before I’m done, we’ll just watch Venom, I don’t care,” he says, seeing you adorably scrunch up your nose at him in response. 

When he comes back and you’re waiting for him with Howl’s moving castle paused on Netflix, he can’t help but grin at you. He places the popcorn on the coffee table and notices himself staring onto your body next to his far more often than the TV and wonders if he really drove away from all of his problems or if he just drove away from one problem to another, because now, it’s getting really hard to focus on staying away from you. 

And when you shiver and curl up into his side, placing your head onto his shoulder, he can’t help but jolt at the contact, staring at you in surprise. 

“It’s cold,” you mumble, pouting.

Felix smiles. He rolls his eyes at you, even though on the inside, he finds you absolutely adorable, taking a blanket from the side of the sofa and putting it over your cold bodies, tucking you both in. You feel warm against his side, your hand resting on his chest. He wonders if you can feel his quickening heartbeat, his stiff body and the nerves rising in his heart. Everything else disappears, the fight back home long forgotten and Han Jisung left somewhere home with his own family, the weight of your body overwhelming him when you fall asleep and that’s when he stops and thinks,

isn’t this how home’s supposed to feel like?

The halls of the university building are empty as Felix stands right in front of the closed door, silently pacing around the corridors and bumping his knee up and down. He just got his final’s results and even though his soul was supposed to be at peace, he finds himself stressing over you, currently sitting in the room behind the closed door in front of him, getting your final’s results from biology back. The professor decided to split your class into two groups for the finals so you can, quote, ‘focus better when there’s less people around’ and even though you managed to cheat on your exams without any problems, he still wonders if you did well and if you passed. 

Once the voices behind the closed doors get louder and louder, he figures it’s near the end of your lecture and he can finally see you again and ask you how you did. 

The last time he talked to you without the stress of finals breathing onto your back was back on Christmas break-- more than a week ago. Ever since then, you two have been meeting in the middle of the night again, preparing for your upcoming tests. You didn’t really manage to talk a lot about anything else and even though Felix didn’t mind, he still missed your mindless rambles and weird jokes you used to crack when you weren’t stressing your mind off. 

The door opens and reveals people coming out, a few of them wearing a toothy grin on their faces as they glance on the paper in their hands, a few of them frowning as they pin their eyes to the ground. It’s not easy to differentiate the ones that passed and the ones who did not do that well and even though Felix feels sorry for them, he wonders why they just don’t cheat their way out of bad grades just how he does. It’s not that hard. It just takes a lot of practice. 

Once he finally sees your face, a big, toothy grin decorating your lips, a big stone falls off his heart, a weight lifts itself from his shoulders, because frankly, you wouldn’t look so happy if you failed, right? You’re not a total psychopath.

“How did you-” 

His words are cut off from his mouth, all air kicked out of his body once he feels you so close, the soft skin of your lips pressed up against his in a happy kiss. He’s startled, to say the least. His cheeks are reddening in the instance and he doesn’t even know if time stopped or if it’s just the rising anxiety and excitement in his chest, but he bites down the confusion and kisses you back finally, closing his eyes and bringing you close by your shoulders. The kiss is a little sloppy and messy, but he doesn’t mind-- all that’s occupying his mind right now is you, your sweet lips, your mouthy kiss, your excited hands creeping up around his neck, your bag that fell to the ground next to his feet, your exam paper marked with the big red A+ flying around the two of you when you let it fall from your grasp, your hair tickling his cheeks, you, you, you.

There’s only you. In the air he breathes, in the ground he walks on, in his hands and on his mind. You’re everywhere. Intoxicating.

You pull away from him after a while, grinning at him. It still manages to startle him a little-- how just the small gesture can light up his whole world, how your smile can make him feel like he’s the luckiest person on this earth. He sees stars in your eyes and he wonders who put them there, hoping to be the one, believing he could finally be the one, with how you look at him and hold him in your arms-

but it’s Felix’s life we’re talking about. There’s only you, you, you and maybe somewhere, far away in the distance, there could even be him, but who’s always there for sure is Han Jisung.

Han Jisung staring at the two of you from the open door, mouth agape in shock. Han Jisung with trembling hands, Han Jisung with his books clutched close to his chest as Felix’s heart drops and reality finally hits him. You were never supposed to be his to kiss. You were supposed to be Jisung’s-- his roommate’s, his best friend’s -- you fell for him long, long ago and that’s how it’s always been. 

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, to comfort his dear friend that looks like he’s heart’s being broken, but he finds no words in him to console his actions. He feels bad, he feels so, so guilty when their eyes meet, but he doesn’t manage to say anything before Jisung turns around the corner and leaves. 

The sound of Jisung’s quick steps is the only thing resonating in Felix’s mind like a bell, a signal for him that he fucked up, he did a really, really bad thing. 

His insides clutch and eyes water in the empty college corridor when he wonders,

is this how it feels to break someone’s heart?

You kick the small rocks beneath your feet, gazing into the distance. The cold in your bones makes you shudder, your eyes trailing around the neighbourhood so foreign to you, putting your hands into your pockets so you shelter your fingers from the frozen air. You think how this place looks exactly as you imagined it to-- tall apartment complex and a single big tree in front of it, the cars parked in the driveway obviously having their spot as the neighbours have lived together for a long time to know not to park anywhere else, because it’s more efficient this way. 

You’re waiting and waiting, hoping to see the one you’re waiting for soon, because you doubt your confidence will last you for any longer if you don’t talk to him now. You could lie and tell yourself it’s okay and that you’re not nervous at all, but after Jisung ran away the other day and his roommate followed him a few moments later, you feel nervousness creeping into your skin after not seeing or hearing from Felix for three days now. 

You remember him telling you that he likes to go for late-night convenience store runs every evening to get his favorite snacks. It wasn’t hard to find out where he lives-- it’s the 21st century, for god’s sake. You asked a friend of his friend and here you are, waiting  for him to appear in the door of his apartment complex, ready to talk to him about the events of this week.

Once you hear the door opening, you feel your head snap to its direction quicker than the speed of light, knees almost getting weak at the sight of Lee Felix standing there, confusion written all over his face once his eyes meet with yours. The frown forming on his face only deepens your stress as you wonder if he didn’t want to see you today, which, considering the fact that he’s been ignoring you for the past few days, might just be the case, but it still makes your heart break just a little when you hear him sigh once he makes his way over to you, the sound of his sneakers on the ground being the only thing heard in the middle of the night.

All the snow has melted-- as if all the bright things have left just in time with it, leaving you sad and cold, the clouds of your breath hitting the cold air being the only thing reminding you of the weather as you feel your body heating up in his presence. 

“Can we talk?” you ask, voice steadier than you expected it to be.

“I- I mean,” he starts, a shaky and husky voice hitting your ears, signaling that he probably hadn’t spoken to anyone for a long time now, “you’re already here, so I guess…”

You nod at him, averting your gaze quickly to the ground, when you realise you suddenly don’t know what to say. You try to search for words, yet none come out of your mouth. Your mind is blank and it seems like his presence took away all your vocabulary, but deep on the inside, you know damn well that if you don’t speak up now, you won’t have a second chance and you really have to get it now.

“Why- why…” you mutter, “why did you leave without saying anything the other day?” you ask.

The silence is overwhelming as you start to hate the sound of your own breath, opting to hold it for a few seconds as you await his response. 

“I mean, isn’t it obvious?” 

You shake your head in confusion, finally meeting his eyes again. “No.”

“Jisung… Jisung saw us. I didn’t feel like it was right,” he explains, cracking his knuckles in a nervous habit you noticed in him a long, long time ago when he first tried to teach you how to cheat in class without getting caught.

“What does he have to do with anything?”

“You two like each other.” he says bluntly, taking you off-guard.

The moment these words come out of his mouth, you realise not one, but two things. One of them is fairly new to you, the fact that Han Jisung liked you back was something you never knew you could experience, but even though you should be flattered, you realise it no longer holds a meaning in your heart. The second thing is connected to the first-- and that is, Lee Felix doesn’t know that you like him now. His foolish, silly mind convinced him you were still in love with his best friend, his confused and frustrated brain didn’t let him realise that for a long, long time now, the freckled boy in front of you has been the only one you thought about when you were falling asleep at night.

You don’t even know when it happened. You guess it just did. You wondered how it’d feel to know what exactly made you fall for Felix, what that moment was, but something inside of you is telling you that maybe, it was even more wonderful this way. Unexpected, but totally reasonable.

“Why would I be kissing you if I still liked Jisung?” you ask, the fear of directly confessing to him and getting rejected creeping up in your shadow.

“I- I don’t know-”

“Exactly.” you cut him off before he rambles and manages to find a stupid, silly reason in his head to justify his wrong expectations. You know how he is-- if he overthinks things hard enough, he’ll surely find an answer. There’s none, though, so you don’t dare to give him time to think about it and ponder on the thought for any longer.

“But that doesn’t matter now anyway,” he shrugs, putting his hands into his pockets.

You wonder what’s going on inside of his head right now. You wonder if he regrets what he’s done-- if he wants to turn back time and never let you kiss him. The nerves make you bite down harshly on your bottom lip and you only catch yourself when you feel iron in your mouth, quickly licking your own wound on the surface of your mouth and take a deep breath in. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Why would it?” he says, eyes boring into yours.

“Because… I thought it meant something to you? I mean, it meant a lot to me, at least. That’s why I’m even here in the first place,” you chuckle airly, feeling your throat get dry.

“I’m not saying that it didn’t, I just think it had no point.”

His words feel like knives thrown into your chest, like a fire burning the pit of your stomach. You feel your legs getting weaker at his arguments, your fingers harshly tugging at the skin of your cuticles hidden in your pockets. You don’t trust your voice to sound steady this time when you speak, but you don’t care. Maybe it’s time to show your real emotions. Maybe it will change Felix’s mind.

“And why is that?”

“Because people like you don’t date people like me. You’re supposed to be in love with Jisung. You’re supposed to be dating him, he’s supposed to date you. You’re too good for me anyway.” he shrugs.

“Is this all about Jisung?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

You watch Felix sharply inhale in and out, averting his eyes from your figure. The distance between the two of you is unnatural, as if to singal how the two of you are slowly drifting apart. You see him fold his hands on his chest, preparing for what he’s about to say.

“It hurt him, back then. And I hate that. He loves you and I just.. I can’t do that to him, when I know  how much he cares about you.” he says.

Love is a strange thing. You hear Felix say how much Jisung loves you, but is that really true? Does Han Jisung even know you? The real you?

Does Jisung know how you look with your mouth full of fries and a greasy forehead? Does he know how you look when you’re stressed out of your mind because of finals? Does he know your favorite bistro, does he know your favorite movie? Did you cuddle up with Jisung on the couch just because you wanted to be close to him, comfort him and tell him you’re there just a few days after Christmas? 

Or does he just know the self you put up in front of him when you went to meet him? The put-together you that cares even about the sound of your own laugh, not wanting it to sound ugly in his ears? 

Han Jisung can’t love you. He doesn’t even know you.

And you never loved him-- just for the same reason. The feelings you had for him were merely a feeling of attraction, so far away from love.

But now you know how you feel about Felix, how his smile lights up the world and how his presence makes you feel understood. How even the silence with him speaks louder than a million words, how he knows you like the back of his hand and how he treats you like his closest friend. You know that what you feel when you’re with him is stronger than anything you ever have and although it used to scare you for a moment, now you’re ready to embrace it and live with it, if he lets you.

Lee Felix doesn’t tell you he loves you. Maybe you can see it in his eyes.

Why does he have to put everything above love? Why does he care about Jisung more than you? It’s breaking your heart. 

“Felix… I’m sure he’d understand. He’s a good person. I’m sure he’d want you to be happy.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand-”

“He’s a grown adult!” you yell out, the built-up emotions coming to the surface in the form of frustration, your words sunding spiteful and angry. Maybe you are furious, maybe you are full of fire right now, but it’s all because of the boy in front of you and the things he refuses to let himself enjoy.

“Why do you even care about it so much, huh? I was your fucking second choice all along anyway!” 

You look at him in shock, your eyes watering at the sight of the frown sitting on his face. Something inside of you breaks and you think it’s safe to say it was your heart, choking you up as you shake your head in disapproval. 

“Felix-” you protest, but there’s no use.

You see him turn around on his heel, opening the door to the apartment complex and leaving. It feels like you’re losing him, it feels like he’s gone forever. He turned his back on you, refusing all the love you were willing to give him, all the love you were offering to him right here, your heart in your hands.

He gave up on your love.

People in movies go out to party after a break-up to get drunk and numb their feelings. They either go to the club or go to a stupid college party, which is, coincidentally, your case today, but you’re not here to get drunk tonight. You’re not here to drown out your feelings and numb your pained soul-- you’re simply here to try to have some fun.

Your mum told you long, long ago that happiness is a choice. You could argue with her and tell her that depression and heartbreak aren’t a choice and that they, by themselves, are causing people the most sadness, but you had to give your mum a point. If you don’t choose to try, if you don’t do anything to at least try to stimulate your own brain, you can’t expect happiness to find you by itself. That’s just, sadly, not how life works, and you weren’t going to drown out in your own tears just because of Lee fucking Felix, because if you weren’t worth trying for him, he’s not worth any of your tears.

You appear on Lee Haechan’s end of the semester party. You have A+ finals to celebrate and although you would be much happier to drink to them with the one that basically helped you get through the semester, you won’t pass the chance to socialize. You worked hard and you did a good job-- you deserve a party. Alcohol truly isn’t the best for your brain, but you will just decide to call it selfcare. It’s not like you’re getting blacked-out drunk tonight anyway.

You manage to have small talk with a few people from your class. Though it’s not exactly what’s stimulating your brain, you don’t mind it. You barely know these people and you couldn’t care less, but you guess this is the downside of socialising. 

The alcohol in your veins doesn’t give you a chance to loosen up, though. You only feel your body warmer with the beer hitting your system, but your feelings still taste of salt, your brain not cooperating with your grandiose happiness plan and you think the people talking to you notice, since no one really tries to keep you in a conversation long enough when you start to absently nod at them and pay zero attention to what they’re saying. You don’t blame them, though. You’d probably do the same in their place.

Your feet move their way to the front door when you decide that maybe your mum wasn’t right, completely ready to go home and pity yourself for a few more days before coming back to life, when a familiar voice calls you from behind, making you freeze in your spot.

“Y/N, long time no see.”

Han Jisung watches you with glossy eyes, yet he tries to look nonchalant at the sight of you. It doesn’t feel like his heart is breaking when he sees you right here and there, chewing on your bottom lip, more or less, it feels numbing to his heart and his head. It’s like he expected it all from the start-- the outcome that once so surprised him. But after all this time he spent overthinking and dwelling on the memory of seeing you kissing his best friend, it made sense to him. 

“Jisung…”

He can see your eyes growing worried when you watch over him and he mentally slaps himself for not handling his emotions with more care back then. He could have spared you a lot of pain and trouble if he hadn’t reacted in such a way in the doorway of your classroom, but the truth is, Han Jisung hadn’t really known just how much a true heartbreak feels and nothing could ever prepare him for the physical pain numbing his chest. He didn’t know it could hurt so much. 

He doesn’t want to worry you. You are still his friend, after all, right? That’s all you always have been and he should have understood it from the first moment he saw you gaze at his friend so lovingly in the university halls one day. He thinks you, yourself, didn’t even recognise the emotion in you when you watched over Felix with so much care, with so many stars in his eyes and a big grin on your face. He could never compare himself to Felix.

He doesn’t want to worry you anymore, and so he decides to talk to you like a friend would. You looked like you could use a friend tonight.

“How have you been?” he asks, smiling at you. He hopes his eyes convey the emotion he feels-- how after all this time, he still feels comfortable with you and desperately needs you to do the same. He can’t lose another friend. Not to love. 

That happens every single time. Truth be told, Jisung used to have a problem with differentiating true love from platonic feelings sometimes. He used to think he falls out of love just as quickly as he falls in, but the truth is that it was never even love at all. Sometimes, it was just pure admiration. Feelings for a friend. And he managed to ruin all his friendships just because he started dating them. 

And then, he just kept searching and searching for the right one, because no one ever felt right. No one ever made him feel loved, no one ever made him feel love. It felt suffocating, but so, so addicting. He could never give up on trying to find love.

And then he met you. And it finally made sense-- it finally felt right.

“I’m… I’m fine, thanks,” you say, smiling at him with that smile that still, admittedly, made his heart race and swell with love. He’s not afraid to call the emotion by its name. It doesn’t feel wrong. He used to think he wants it to stop, but the truth is, it still feels nice. 

Love feels like loneliness sometimes. It’s a bittersweet feeling. But it’s still so, so addicting.

“Are you sure?” he asks. He knows you. He knows when something’s wrong.

He also knows your eyes have been searching for his roommate for the past few minutes of your conversation. He knows you want to meet him and avoid him all at once, love him and leave him-- it was a paradox. 

He knows his roommate way too well, though. He knows he can’t fall out of love with you. He knows, though, that he’ll never act upon it. Lee Felix has always been the sweetest person in this whole entire world-- putting the needs of others before his own. He can’t keep doing this to himself.He can’t keep doing this to you.

“I think you know the answer, Jisung. Why do you keep asking, then?” you bitterly snicker, going around him and escaping the noisy house. Jisung doesn’t know if you want to leave, if you want to escape his presence, but he can’t leave you just like that, and so he follows you outside, seeing you sitting at the doorstep, as if you were waiting for him.

“You don’t have to think of me, you know that, right?” he says once he takes a seat next to you, watching your expression change into a pained one. 

“It’s… I don’t know. It’s complicated. And Felix- he doesn’t think it’s right. I can’t force him into anything. It was his choice anyway,” you mutter. Jisung sighs heavily, the feeling your words on his chest heavy and solemn. He hates the fact that he is standing in the way of your happiness. He hates the fact that he is the problem, the invisible wall keeping you two from each other. 

“It’s simple, though.” he shrugs.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. He takes it upon himself to explain before you begin to tell him that it’s not, opting to open your eyes on his own.

“You two are in love with each other. So you should be together. Isn’t that simple?” he asks, smiling at you subtly.

You scoff and shake your head. “He gave up on us.”

“Did he, or did he just do what he felt was right?” Jisung argues. “You can’t keep hiding from each other. You can’t keep trying to ignore your feelings just because I like you. That’s not fair for either of you.”

You don’t argue with him this time. He wonders what’s going on inside of your head at the moment, with your eyebrows furrowed and your bottom lip trapped in your teeth. You look just like all the times he watched you during your tutoring sessions-- focused and lost in thought. It will feel weird to not see you in that way anymore, but he has to try.

The same way Lee Felix always tried for him.

“You’re too sweet, Han Jisung. What a shame our timing’s off.” you say, bitterness coating your voice. He looks up at you again, wondering what your words mean. “I used to like you back then, you know,” you smile.

Here it is, the strange emotion again. The emotion of almost physical pain, a hand squeezing his heart, a knife stabbed into his back. It feels like his world is crumbling down on him, because he’s stupid-- so stupid. He could have had you back then. He could have been with you all this time, only if he wasn’t late. He missed his biggest chance, the biggest opportunity, the happiest time of his life. All because he was too hesitant. 

He didn’t deserve you anyway.

“But now your timing’s right with Felix. Don’t waste that,” he says, biting through the pain.

Because the truth is, if anyone deserved love, it was his roommate. The one that refused you for him, the one that rejected you for him, the one that set him up on a date with you even though you invited him in the first place. The one who gave up on his love only so he wouldn’t hurt his friend. You could say that Jisung was too good for this world, but Lee Felix is the one that deserves the whole entire world, in his eyes.

Maybe these two were just too good of friends. Caring about the other one twice as much as about themselves. And that’s exactly why Jisung will get over this-- he’ll push you to his friend. So he could be happy, finally. 

“Jisung, I don’t know-”

“Do it,” he cuts you off, “reach out to him again. Try it. For me.”

y/n: meet me at the 8Bistro at 9 

Felix can’t believe himself when he finds his legs moving to the direction of the bistro at the edge of the town. He knows it’s the last one on your list, the one you invited him to so you could celebrate your finals in and he finds himself wondering if he could have gone here with you earlier only if the two of you didn’t share that kiss back then.

That damned kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about for the last few days-- even weeks, every time he opened his eyes in the morning and closed them when he was about to sleep. It kept following him like a curse, a thing he couldn’t escape, as if it was testing him like the snake tested Eve in paradise. Foreign fruit. 

You’re sitting there already when he arrives, fingers playing with each other as you gaze at the door in expectation. He sees your usual order already on the table, assuming you got here early, but it’s untouched as your knee bumps up and down under the table and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip.

He takes a seat, allowing himself to look at you again after such a long time. It feels like it’s been ages, yet you still look the same to him-- the same beauty that hit him when he first met you and shared his biggest secret with you.

“Why aren’t you eating? You have to finish off your list,” he mumbles awkwardly, motioning to the food at the table.

“I wanted to wait for you.” you say. Your voice is quiet, almost shy, when you speak to him. He wonders just how much he fucked up that it made you act this way. He knows it’s probably a lot, but considering he’s sitting here right now, he can still fix it.

At least he hopes so. 

“Did you.. Do you want to talk to me about something?” he asks, nervosity filling his veins as he feels his hands form a little swimming pool with just how much he’s sweating.

“Yes,” you nod, taking a deep breath in and out. He wonders if you’re just as nervous as he is. The answer is probably yes, considering your tense shoulders and restless legs, but he doesn’t comment on it as he watches you begin speaking again. “I wanted to tell you that I’m- I’m in love with you. And that it’s for real, and it’s for you and no one else,” you start, quickly wetting your lips and continuing again, “and I know you must feel like a second choice, or like you weren’t important to me at all, but that’s not true.”

“You helped me so much, really, but the more I hung out with you, the more I realised just how wonderful you are. And how your heart is so big, how you’re fun to be around…” you ramble, taking Felix by surprise with your heart-felt monologue, “and that Jisung is not the one for me, because, well, it was just.. it was just a crush. I didn’t know him. He didn’t even know me that well. Crushes… they don’t mean anything. They’re silly. But what I have with you, Felix…” you say, drifting your eyes away from him for a second,

“I know you. The real you. And you know me. You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve seen me struggle and you know exactly how to help. You know me and I know you and the feelings I have for you are much more than a silly crush. I love you, Felix. And I don’t want to just forget about us.” you complete and Felix swears he can feel his eyes watering at your words. He chooses not to speak up, afraid of his voice breaking, afraid he’s going to embarrass himself in front of you. His emotions got the best of him and right here and now, no one else matters. 

It’s you. You that feels like home, you, the only girl he’s ever loved. You, the only girl that ever loved him back, you, who he foolishly rejected. 

You’re everywhere. In his veins, in his heart, in his foolish, stupid mind.

“Felix… I don’t want you to give up on us.” 

He looks up, seeing your sincere eyes and a look full of worry. You seem so wonderful to him, even now. You’re everything he’s ever dreamt of, a home without a roof and walls. With you, he feels at ease. He trusts you. He’s never felt this way for anyone before.

He watches you and he hears your laugh, he hears your whines when he used to tease you so much. He hears the sound of your memories when he chased you around in the snow. He hears the opening song of Howl’s moving castle, reminding him of the warmth he felt when you hugged him so close that evening.

He used to want to hate you. He should have known that could never be the case.

You’re all he needs-- all he wants. You’re everywhere he looks, in every beauty of the world and in everything that’s dear to him. 

You, you, you, you.

And so he decides-- it’s time to change his plan.

Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 1) hold her hand, 2) get rid of the guilt, 3) lean in and kiss her.

“Does that mean you’re giving us a chance?” you ask, hopeful eyes glaring at him with millions of stars in them, sparkles swimming around in perfection.

“We’ll talk after you eat. You have a yelp review to write,” he laughs.

“Feli-”

Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 4) shut her up by forcing french fries into her mouth.

“I love you too.”

[xwing-baby]

A Day Off (Mandalorian x Reader)

This was inspired by everyone’s favourite @dindjarindiaries ​ and her lovely fic ‘The Challenge’ go read it because it's way better than this bullshit that my brain came up with. You’re an amazing writer Molly, I am sorry for this. I’m not sure why I really wrote this, but I hope you enjoy!

IMAGINE: Din leaves you for the day to go on a hunt. You entertain yourself and end up very drunk by the time he comes to find you. Hilarity ensues. (Drink responsibly kids!)

Word count: 2.4k... this was meant to be short. 

Warnings: Mention of alcohol, violence, and vomit! Please drink responsibly!! Cheeky bit of pining, little bit of flirting, fluff at the end!

The decision to leave you out of today’s hunt was a mutual one. You were tired and in need of a rest, the quarry was easy and Din was more than capable on his own anyway. So, he left you in a small town a few miles from his destination. In that small town, you found a tired old cantina, filled with enough booze and pleasant conversation to survive the next few hours. 

The hunt was done, the victim handed off successfully to the right person and Din was on his way to find you so you could move on to the next planet. He was tired and bruised from the hunt and wanted to get back to the safety of the Crest sooner rather than later, but knew as soon as he heard your distinctive laugh from outside the cantina that that was not going to be the reality. 

As if you knew he was coming, you stumbled out of the door before he could even open it. Your hair was messed up, strands falling out of the tie and into your face. There was liquid spilled down the front of your shirt and your boots were untied. You looked a mess. For a second he was a little worried, until a goofy smile spread across your face when you recognised him. 

“You came back!” You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around the Mandalorian. Shocked, Din stands still. Not really sure what to do with himself. You notice and laugh, stumbling back off him. “You were gone for like a million hours! I missed you” 

“It was ten hours,” Din said with a smile, “But we’re going now,”

“Great, ‘cus I don’t think I can go back in there again,” You ran ahead of Din a few paces and grimaced. “Not a lot of friends were made today! But-but- but! I did a good thing actually!” Din just kept walking, trying not to entertain your rambling. You carried on anyway, you were used to his silence by now. “There was this twi’lek right, looked great but oh my stars! The worst! Turns out he knew you! Everyone knows you, not a surprise there. But he also knew that I was with you and tried to chat shit about you!” You were shouting now, gesturing animatedly and zigzagging across the street. “And he kept going so I just punched him,” You mimicked your actions from early, swinging your arm and using the momentum to turn back around to face the Mandalorian, “Punched him straight in the face! It was awesome!” 

“You didn’t need to do that,” 

“He was an asshole of course I did,” You sighed, “And apparently you know his sister or something? Didn’t realise you were such a Casanova, Tinman!” Again Din didn’t reply. He knew exactly who you were on about and was a little proud that you’d punched the guy. Must have been Xi’an’s brother. “Well, of course you are,” You continued. “You’re so freaking handsome all the time, and nobody can even see your face!” You swung back around to walk forward again, swinging your arms by your sides and giggling as you thought about what the Mandalorian might look like. You hadn’t been in his crew long but had developed feelings for him quite quickly. Not that Din knew this, “You know, I bet you’re really pretty under that helmet,” You tapped the top of his head for emphasis. “I don’t think you understand how pretty you are with it on! Maybe it’s for the best that you keep it on, you’d never be able to get anything done!” 

“Alright, y/n,” 

“You’re going to make some woman very happy one day Mando,” You said with a dreamy look in your eye. 

Din smiled and blushed a little at your words. At the same time you had developed feelings for Din, Din had developed feelings for you. He was very glad to have the helmet to hide how obvious a blush came to his face when you said things like that. He wanted nothing more than to make you happy, if you only knew. 

The pair carried on walking out of the town, and towards the small valley the crest had been hidden in. You carried on rambling away, telling him in immense detail everything that had happened while he was gone. 

“And then I got challenged to a drinking contest with this other dude. I say dude but turns out he was a Wookie. And I won! Everyone says I didn’t but I saw the way he walked out of there, I won so hard! Drunk him under the table,” You spoke quickly and animatedly. Din wasn’t really listening anymore, just enjoying the sound of your voice and watching you as you walked ahead making sure you didn’t fall over. “You should have been there and we could have smashed it!” You laughed, spinning around to face him again now with a puzzled look on your face. “Have you ever been drunk, Mando?” 

“A few times,” He replied, “Watch where you’re going,” 

“I am,” You say, continuing to walk backwards anyway. You thought about something for a second then spoke again, “But what about the Creed? Don’t you have to drink alone? Or,” You stopped again and burst into laughter. Din stopped walking, his patience growing a little thin. “D-do you, Ha!” You could barely get your words out, tears streaming down your face laughing at your own thoughts. “To- to get around the cr-creed… oh my stars!” 

“Y/n I don’t have time for this,” He said sharply.

“You have to use a straw!” You howled with laughter. Din shook his head, he wanted to be annoyed at you but your infectious laugh had caught him. He stifled his own laughter. “I want to see it so bad! Oh my stars!” 

“You’ve had your fun now,” Din tried to sound serious, his voice wavering a bit through the modulator as he tried not to laugh. 

“Yes, yes… oh! I’m sorry,” You tried to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “Yes, I’m sorry you’re a super serious Mandalorian you wouldn’t use a straw!” You coughed to force yourself to calm down but cackled with laughter again. Din started walking again, leaving you behind a few paces while you calmed yourself down. Eventually, you followed and saw the ship over the crest of the hill. 

“I’ll race you!” You called, already speeding past the Mandalorian down the grassy hill. “Winner gets the refresher first!” 

You ran as fast as you could, and looked back for just a second to see that your companion hadn’t followed you. Before you could even blink you tripped and fell on a rock sticking out of the grass. You fell, flipping over and landing with a thud on your back. You skidded to a halt at the bottom of the hill, conveniently next to your intended destination. This made Din run. 

Once he got to the bottom where you were, his panic quickly vanished as he found you in fits of laughter yet again. 

“Did you see that!” You laughed. “I won!” 

“Are you alright?” 

“My back hurts a little, but I won, loser!” You exclaimed, putting your fingers in a ‘L’ on your forehead. Din rolled his eyes. As if this whole experience couldn’t get more ridiculous. “Not going to help me up?” You pouted and held up your arms like a child. Din uncrossed his arms and held his gloved hand out for you to grab and pulled you up to your feet again. The back of your shirt was ripped and grass stains covered the pale materials along with a few drops of blood. You didn’t seem concerned at all as the alcohol in your system was numbing everything. 

Din opened the Crest and you walked up the ramp to the safety of its interior. 

“Where’s the baby?” You whispered loudly. Ever since you’d joined the crew you’d loved the Child like your own. Another thing Din admired about you. “Baby! We’re back,” 

“Why are you whispering?” 

“Shh!” You shoved your hand over the front of his helmet, “He might be sleeping,” Din pushed your hand off, and you carried on walking into the ship, creeping on your tiptoes. 

“I think you need to go to sleep,” 

“Only if you’ll come with me,” You turned around and looked the Mandalorian up and down, your playful attitude now turning darker. You played with the buttons of your shirt, slowly undoing them. Din was stunned, freezing in his spot. 

“That wouldn’t be appropriate,” Din tried to stay composed, but it was becoming more and more difficult as you took your top off. He knew he couldn’t do anything, you were way too drunk. He wasn’t an idiot. But he was also human. 

“I bet you’re so pretty under there,” You sighed. You moved to be closer to him when a small green creature stood on a box and caught your attention instead. “Hey little guy!” Din took a sigh of relief, the tension you had created dissipated almost instantly as you bent down to pet the little creature. 

While you were distracted he checked over your back, seeing only a few scrapes and deciding it would be fine until the morning when you’d sobered and also weren’t trying to flirt with him anymore. Well, the last part he didn’t mind so much. 

Din went about his usual take-off activities. He could hear you talking to the Child, telling the little thing about your day and listening to it babble back, acting as if you could understand what it was saying. Eventually, you disappeared into the ship. Din hoped that you had gone to sleep. 

You hadn’t. You went to throw up, ultimately finding an empty freight box. The mixture of spinning from alcohol and the bumpy takeoff made for an upsetting mix. The Child grimaced and put its hand up to comfort you. An odd feeling washed over you, like a warm water trickling through you, then you felt better. You could see straight now. The Child seemed happy with whatever it had done and toddled away. 

You pushed yourself off the floor, and went in search of a new shirt. The cold chill of space had begun to seep into the ship's cracks making you shiver. You stumbled into Din’s quarters, you shouldn’t have  been in there but it was the first place you thought to look for a new shirt. And you found one. His cot was messy, clothes thrown around the small room. You couldn’t help but think about him then, getting out of that armour… 

It was too much. You shook your head. Even your drunk brain knew it was wrong to think about him like that. He didn’t like you, like that, there was no need to encourage the idea. Instead, you pulled the closest piece of clothing on. It was a little too big, but it smelt like him which made you smile. 

You decided to go to the cockpit to bother the Mandalorian again. It was lonely being drunk on your own. You climbed up to the cockpit and stood in the door silently. Din was talking quietly to the Child, trying to pull it away from the many shiny switches on the control panel. You grinned, seeing him with the child made your heart soar. He was so sweet to the creature, for a moment you could forget what a formidable character the Mandalorian really was. He acted like the creature’s dad and it was entirely believable. Quietly, you settled into the seat to his right, looking out as the stars streamed past in hyperdrive. Din had noticed, though didn’t say anything. It was silent for a moment or two, bar the Child’s playful squeals as it played with a silver ball. Din figured you had fallen asleep, glad that you weren’t trying to flirt with him anymore. 

“When are you going to let me fly?” You ask suddenly. Din turns to you, but doesn’t say anything. This was almost a daily discussion. It was always no. “I know you said no the last time but I really think you’re underestimating me. I land badly one time and you never trust me to fly your ship!” 

“You crashed,” Mando said plainly.

“One time!” You exclaimed. “I’ll have you know it was very harsh conditions, and desert planets are very deceptive! Give me a nice- a nice planet,” You slurred as your eyes become heavier, “and I promise I will land the crest beautifully,”

“No way,” 

“Spoil sport,” You grumble. The Child hopped up into your lap, and presented the silver ball it had in its mouth, which made you giggle. You settled further into the seat, throwing your legs over the armrest, kicking them against the leather. The Child sat in your lap and showed you its new trick of making the item float. 

Mindlessly you began to sing, quietly, and play with the Child. The melody made Din’s ears prick, you were singing in Mando’a, a song that he hadn’t heard since he was a child. Your voice made him shiver, memories flooding back of the few happy moments of his life when this song was sung last. 

You sang it to the end, with very few mistakes, making Din wonder how long you’d known it. You must have known it for a while, but you’d never understood him when he spoke the language before. 

“Where did you learn that?” He finally caved and asked, wanting nothing more than for you to sing it again.

“I learnt it for you,” You said with a yawn, your eyes closing. You started singing again, the words now fading into mumbles and eventually you fell asleep. He turned in his chair to look at you as you were quiet once more. You’d curled yourself up in the chair, head tilted back resting on the wall. The Child sat in your chest, playing with the ends of your hair. The child looked at Din and smiled, then back at you. It's a little green hand patting your leg and it cooed.

“I know, kid.”

A/N: That ended a lot softer than I planned but hey ho. Remember drink responsibly, don’t challenge a wookie to a drinking challenge, you will lose. They’re massive. Goodnight!

Tagging: @captain-skytrash​ @dindjarindiaries​ @dartheldur​ @inked-poet​ @tortles

[loveless-scribes]

Lovely LS Art!

A lovely piece of art from the fabulous and talented @dags-sz​ for the story I’m currently co-writing, Angelus Mortis. A wonderful visualization of our secondary couple’s first meeting! Thank you so much Daguer for lending your fabulous talent to this story! Please check out her work, she’s absolutely amazing and a pleasure to work with! <3

You can find the story here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13642600/2/Angelus-Mortis https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736001/chapters/69569037#workskin And the scene here: The third day, the sky split suddenly overhead, releasing a downpour that drenched her to the bone. She went on wandering the streets, now with renewed desperation, cursing herself for not better informing herself on the workings of the mortal realm. Wishing she had thought to ask Jui what "money" was. She was accustomed to the conveniences of the Underworld. Hunger meant seek out the kitchens. Boredom sent her to the gardens, to Kayt's cheerful banter. Tiredness sent her to the servant's quarters. The mortal realm meant searching and searching without quite knowing just what she was searching for.

She was beginning to despair of her rash decision. Bitter tears lodged in her throat. Even if she were to be killed by pickpockets and die in the rain on this cold night, she decided, it would still be better than the humiliation of having to see Thanatos again. Of walking him back to the castle even one more time.

She paused, catching sight of the dim windows of an establishment that was clearly closed. A forest green sign overhead read Wings of Freedom in gold lettering and underneath that, in smaller cursive the addition, Tea Shop. She approached the locale to seek shelter from the rain under the overhanging awning. Peering inside the windows, she saw an impeccably clean little café, with tables and chairs furnished out of warm cherry wood. She sighed and turned away from the view. What she wouldn't give to be sitting at Jui's side by the warmth of the kitchen fire with a mug of tea in her hands.

A shiver passed through her as she looked down and watched the water snaking down her arms and dripping down the hem of her chiton. What was she doing here? What did she think she would achieve by leaving home? What was she hoping to accomplish? Surely, she was the most foolish nymph in all of existence to have attempted such an imprudent escapade. She was a half-witted, bumbling, poor excuse of a – the sudden tinkling of a bell roused her from her thoughts.

A young man stood in the doorway of the tea shop, a large bag of parchment paper in his left arm as he opened the large, glass door to the locale with his right. His black hair was parted in the center and damp from the rain. His expression was one of annoyance that seemed characteristic rather than provoked. Cool, icy blue eyes were hooded by narrowed eyelids, his annoyance emphasized by his furrowed, thin eyebrows. He held the door open with his foot as he ran a hand though his wet hair, pushing the strands back from his face.

He seemed then, to notice her. Drawn, perhaps, by her own gaze. He looked her once over and Slayte was suddenly uncomfortably aware of her appearance. The flower garland Kayt had adorned her black hair with had long since been removed. Her hair was a wet, tangled mess. Her lavender chiton, ridiculously out of place in the mortal realm, dripped water like a wet rag. Try as she might to stand up tall and meet his eyes confidently, she could not banish the shivering of her bare shoulders. All in all, she knew she made for a pathetic picture.

He looked over his shoulder up and down the abandoned roads to confirm what he already knew. No one in their right mind would be out in this weather.

"We're closed." He told her. His tone was brusque, but his voice surprisingly calm and gentle, in contrast to his expression. It was oddly pleasant, Slayte thought. A voice she should like to hear again, when she wasn't soaking wet and being looked down on.

"I am aware." She answered quickly, avoiding his gaze, "I seek only shelter under this awning until the storm passes. Pray, pay me no mind."

The man blinked at her odd manner of speech. He turned his eyes heavenward, as if already regretting the next words to leave his mouth.

"Come in, it's better to get out of the rain inside." He wiped his shoes on the mat before stepping inside, holding the door open only for the fraction of a second it took her to make up her mind. She followed quickly, catching the door before it closed on her.

He switched on the lights and Slayte got her first, good look at the quaint establishment. All of the surfaces were polished to a gleam and the lighting was warm on the dark wood furniture. The chairs were lined with green cushions that seemed to be a trademark color of the little shop. Beyond the counter she could see a neat line of appliances, along with shelves that lined the entire wall filled to the brim with various assortments of tea, each labelled neatly in careful handwriting.

The kind stranger gestured vaguely to a table to her right and she pulled out a chair to sit down, glad to finally be off of her feet. The warmth of the room settled in slowly, and she soon stopped shivering. Although it was embarrassing to be dependent on the kindness of a mortal, it was the first such kindness she had been shown in the last three days and she was grateful for it.

She looked down on her leather-sandaled feet that had gone blue from cold and wondered if perhaps she would be able to survive in the mortal realm after all. She looked up as a cup of hot tea was placed on the table beside her and watched the steam rise from the dark liquid, spellbound.

"Drink that." The man commanded with the same careless expression before turning away.

"Oh! But… I'm afraid I don't possess any of the required money," she protested, hoping she was pronouncing the foreign word correctly.

The man in question gave her an incredulous look before answering, "it's on the house."

Slayte took this to be a reassurance of some sort, that it was alright to drink the tea. She breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the gods for listening to her prayer. How badly she had wished for a cup of tea!

"Thank you," she whispered, "That is truly… most kind of you."

She closed her hands around the teacup reverently, allowing the warmth to seep into her fingers before taking a long, indulgent sip.

"Did the rain wash your brain out of your head?"

She sputtered at the rude comment, swallowing quickly so as to avoid spitting out the precious tea. "I beg your pardon, my sir?" she asked, wondering what she could have done to warrant such a response from her benefactor.

"The way you talk. It's bizarre." He added, watching her with that same devil-may-care expression.

She flushed. She had taken notice that the mortals seemed to speak quite differently than the Underworld dwellers but had not had time to adjust to their speech.

"I…" she stammered, "I will take care to speak more appropriately."

"Eh?" he looked disgusted by her response. "Who cares? Just do what you want." He turned away from her and headed instead to the kitchenette behind the counter. She watched as he unpacked the groceries, washing the vegetables with care and laying them to the side. He set a pan on the stove and turned a dial. A faint click was heard before the stove burst into flame, heating the pan.

"Sorcery…" she whispered, spellbound.

The man pulled a knife from a block, and tossed it into the air, seemingly without thinking about it. It glittered in the lamplight before he caught it and flipped it between his elegant fingers before setting to work chopping up the vegetables. Salt wondered if it was normal for a mortal to be this adept with a knife. Even the robbers that had attacked her a day prior were fumbling with their knives in comparison to this man. She had narrowly escaped them by slipping into the shadows themselves, a skill she possessed by virtue of being born from them, but the fear they instilled in her had been very real. Their words had been deceptively charming and flattering. In contrast, this man's rude and brusque demeanor made her feel very safe.

Soon, her teacup was empty, and the delicious smell of spices and cooked vegetables wafted over to her nose. She was fearful of outstaying her welcome and her eyes darted to the window, wondering if the rain had let up enough for her to take her leave.

"Where do you live?" The stranger asked over his shoulder. "I can drop you off, if you want."

She had seen any number of city signs over the last three days but could not now recall a single one. She needed to say something, but she was oddly tongue-tied. What if he caught on that she had no home?

"That's quite alright. I'll just go on foot. It isn't far from here." She lied awkwardly. Only an entire world away, leagues beneath our feet.

"If it isn't far, why were you shivering out there in the rain?" he tossed back, unconvinced. His scowl making apparent that he knew she was lying to him.

She opted instead for silence, not wanting to make it worse. He walked back over to her table and placed two plates of noodles and mixed vegetables down. Had he cooked for her? A stranger? She had always heard that mortals were cruel and amoral creatures and although she had seen nothing the last three days to suggest the contrary, this man was swaying that belief. Warm and with a meal set out in front of her, Slayte was beginning to see that mortals were not all the same.

He took the chair opposite from her and began eating without preamble. Salt whispered a thank you and did the same, glad to finally be eating real food. It wasn't Jui's cooking, but it was delicious all the same.

"If you have somewhere to go, then go home after this. If you don't, there's a room for rent upstairs. I'm looking to hire someone anyway, if you want the job, I'll just take the rent out of your pay."

Overwhelmed by the number of words she didn't understand. Rent? Job? Pay? Slayte merely looked on mutely. "You will give me a… a job?" She queried, nonplussed.

He looked at her as if she were particularly dim-witted. A justified impression, she reluctantly admitted.

"You work. For money." He deadpanned.

"Oh." Slayte thought hard. Money was apparently a form of currency required for transactions, not unlike the coins she used for passage over the Styx. Only in the mortal world, money was required for nearly everything imaginable. Including resources required for life such as food and water. In her short time in the mortal world she understood that money was essential for survival. It was something everyone had asked her about. That, and…

"I'm afraid I don't have any identification." She admitted. "That will be a hindrance, will it not?"

The man chewed his food slowly as his mind worked. His expression somewhat softened, he answered, "Then we'll just make do with a verbal contract and I'll pay you in cash. That works out, right?"

"Does that mean…" Her eyes went wide. "I can stay here?"

"Yeah, sure, if you want the job." He rose to clear the table, and Salt jumped to her feet, unable to contain her excitement. "I do! Very much so!" She was close at his heels and followed him into the kitchenette, ignorant of the way he winced as she tracked footprints over the clean floor.

"I'm Levi." He introduced curtly. "You?" he asked, tearing his eyes away from the dirtied floor.

"My name's Slayte." She announced, extending a hand in greeting.

He looked her in the eye with that same irritated expression, ignoring her outstretched hand altogether before commenting, "That's a shitty name."

[my-healing-journey]

So. I have sole custody of our 2 kids, which means that I’m responsible for making all of the big decisions (medical, educational, religious, etc.) and I do not need to have Jake’s approval before making said decisions. Jake has visitation with our kids twice per month on weekends, plus spring break, half of winter break, and two consecutive weeks in the summer (twice over).

He had the kids for spring break. I needed a break from the kids - I wanted to get my house sparkling clean, declutter, reorganize, etc. - but I couldn’t stop feeling anxious. The kids didn’t want to see Jake. They begged and pleaded with me to not see their dad. They wanted to stay home with me. They were angry with me for taking them to see their dad.

Here’s the thing, though - if I don’t take them to see their dad, he can sue me in court and then the kids can possibly be taken away from me. I have to deliver them to him for short visits every so often, otherwise I risk having to deliver them into his hands permanently, and that eats me up inside. They’re children. They shouldn’t have to be delivered to him at all.

Spring break came and went. I was a workaholic all week. I missed my kids fiercely. Tried to clean the house, wasn’t successful, and wound up hiring someone to come in and do the bulk of it for me. I worked 13+ hour days, binged The Last Kids on Earth (since my kids like the show), cried a bit, continued to miss them, got a massage, and tried to make my executively dysfunctioning brain do things. I felt anxious all week. Jake only let the kids call me on Wednesday (yes it goes against the parenting plan for him to limit their communication with me, but still).

It was around 6pm or so when the kids called me that Wednesday. I was still in the office, trying to wrap up some paperwork. My oldest went off into some room of the apartment where his dad was not present, as is typical for him, and then told me that he was angry at me because Dad had promised to take them bowling, but now didn’t have the money to do so because he ran out since he has to pay me every month. My head spun. WTAF? Before I could think of what to say, my child then said something along the lines of, “Dad said that if you saved all of your money, you’d have $6,000 per month and $70,000 in a year, but he only gets $1,800 per month, and he pays you $600 of that.” I asked my child, “Do you know why Dad pays me?” Child said no. I replied with, “That’s how he helps take care of you and your brother. That’s what good dads should do, right? Help take care of their kids?” His attitude turned around as he said “Hmm. Yeah.”

Then he told me that his dad disagrees with my oldest’s ADHD diagnosis and has convinced my kid that the medicine he’s been taking for ADHD is messing with his brain and he should stop. Child then passed the phone to Dad, who told me that he was concerned because my oldest child is forgetful.

Me: He’s always been forgetful.

Jake: But it seems really dramatic.

Me: He doesn’t live with you all the time; you usually just see him on weekends. His forgetfulness has been pretty bad. The medication he’s been taking has really helped him a lot. He’s gone from struggling with simple math concepts, with tears and frustration and tantrums, to being able to complete his homework on his own within 10 minutes. It’s a night and day difference.

Jake: Forgetfulness isn’t a symptom of ADHD, though. I know, I work with kids who—

Me: Forgetfulness is a classic symptom of ADHD, Jake. Along with voice volume control issues, stimming, and angry outbursts. Ryan has all of those symptoms, and he’s been diagnosed by two separate doctors as having ADHD.

Jake: I’m just saying, he didn’t use to be this forgetful.

Me: And I’m telling you that he’s always been forgetful, ever since he was a toddler, and the medication makes him less so. We have an appointment with his psychiatrist next Thursday; I’ll bring up your concerns with her then.

Jake then handed the phone to my youngest, who ran into a different room and just burst into tears and said he wanted to come home. I asked him if something had happened, and he said he didn’t want to talk about it. Y’all. My heart aches just thinking about it.

The kids came back home on Sunday at the end of spring break, and they were both in an agitated state of mind. My oldest proceeded to yell at me in the car on the way home. My youngest was quiet and withdrawn. My oldest told me that Dad put him on a diet, and ate cookies in front of him with his brother. He explained that Dad is pitting one child against the other, and my poor truth-telling oldest child bears the brunt of Dad’s annoyance and anger. Dad called him names and made fun of his clothes. Among a litany of other things.

My oldest is nine years old. 9. NINE.

I’m still so angry about all of this that I just. I want to scream and punch things.

Who puts a nine-year-old on a diet?! And who pits one kid vs the other and encourages antagonistic behavior?! Where does he get off thinking that it’s appropriate to tell my child to stop taking his medication, and blaming all of his financial problems on me?! Since when is it appropriate for him to talk about things like child support with THAT MUCH specificity and a negative light?! Since when is it okay for him to call my children names and put them down?!

...right. He’s a narcissist, Aerin. This is what he does. This is his whole fucking thing. To stir up drama and bad emotions, and then lord over all those in his life for having negative emotions.

I want him to go away and leave us alone. Forever. Just. Disappear and leave us be. The anxiety and the tension has been running at ridiculously high levels in our home for the past couple of months. He’d seemed to be doing pretty okay, and then all of a sudden he’s just. Decided he was bored with behaving politely, apparently.

My kids’ therapist has reported him to CPS 3x just this year thus far, and it’s only April.

Another incident happened during his last visit with my kids, a more physical one which I don’t want to write about right now because the emotions are still very raw and there’s so much anger and hurt. Suffice it to say, that resulted in yet another CPS report, a consultation with my attorney, multiple discussions with my children’s therapist, and I may very well be authorizing my attorney to file an emergency motion with the court in order to try and slap an immediate injunction onto Jake’s parenting time, pending a full psych evaluation.

This has got to stop. It has to stop.

I just want him to go away forever and leave us alone.

I feel like I’ve moved 1,000 steps forward, only to suddenly be pulled 600 steps backward. All that healing I thought I’d done feels like it’s gone again. Maybe not all of it. I no longer mourn my failed relationship. I feel quite indifferent toward Jake and whatever personal life he may have going on now. But the trauma has come back. Anxiety sits in my chest and in my throat, it’s been there for the past several weeks, and I’m just. I’m constantly near tears. I can’t sleep. I’m so frustrated that this is happening. Frustrated with Jake, frustrated that he just won’t change his ways, frustrated at the hurt he is purposely inflicting upon our children, and frustrated at myself for spiraling again. WTH. I thought I was past what he’d done to me. I thought I had healed. I was dating other men, I felt like my head was on straight again, and now I’m back to feeling unprepared for another relationship (something that I want so so badly), I feel like a giant mess of scattered puzzle pieces which had been mostly put together and then upended by a spiteful toddler. How am I supposed to move forward? Is this just going to keep happening over and over and over again? Will it never get better?

Go away, Jake. Do us all a favor and leave us alone. Ghost us. Never come for us again. Please. Do just one single good thing in your life and leave us alone.

Let us move on.

[imagine-darksiders]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart.

Chapter 2 - Shock.

Words - 4608

Summary: You learn the identity of the mystery man and react perfectly appropriately, given the situation.

-----------------------------------

There's something about ripping apart the fabric of reality and stepping from one world straight into another that the human body doesn't especially agree with. Drastic drop in temperature notwithstanding.

Your brain, organs, even your blood cells know that they aren't supposed to be squeezed through what's essentially a miniature black hole and spat out on top of a mountain, so they protest, as is their right.

Your head spins violently as the man carrying you walks out of a dark, grey cliff-face and lands with a dull crunch onto glistening snow. The lurching of your stomach encourages you to still your frantic thrashing for a moment whilst you wait for your body to settle down and stop trying to turn itself inside out.

“Guh!” you groan miserably, laying pathetically limp over a shoulder that's almost as thick as you are. There's a low, warbling rumble emanating from somewhere far, far away, as though you're submerged in deep water, listening to a train pass overhead on the nearby railway tracks.

With another moan, you blink open your eyes only to immediately slam them shut again at the sudden intrusion of blinding light, the ringing in your ears gradually building to a painful crescendo. It takes a few moments of laying perfectly still before the screeching tone blessedly begins to peter out, allowing other sounds to permeate your eardrums and register in your brain.

The first thing you notice is the howling of wind. It wails like a ghost and whips your hair about sporadically. Gradually, over the din, you become aware of someone speaking, a deep, monstrous growl that punches you in the chest when you recognise it, and suddenly, the events of the last several hours come rushing back, bringing with them the ability to move and speak.

The man holding you has been talking to you, trying to ask if you're still alive and grumbling to himself at your lack of response when, all of a sudden, you flail into action, screaming incoherently and kicking out with your legs.

“Ah, good. You didn't die of fright,” he chuckles, then winces as you yelp shrilly right next to his ear. “...Well....Not yet, at least.”

Still putting up a fight, panic pushing bile up your throat, you bend your arm back and push frantically against his head, fingers twisting into thick, greasy hair. “LET. ME. GO!” you try to bellow fiercely. The fact that your voice comes out as more of a squeak shatters the pitiful illusion you're trying to create, of being far braver than you actually are.

Grunting when you tug sharply on his locks, the man warns, “If you don't stop squirming, I'm going to drop you.”

But your heart is too busy hammering its way out of your chest for you to pay attention, so you continue to thrash around in his unshakable grip, the only direction springing to mind being, ‘get away,' as though you're sensing, deep in your soul, that this impregnable man is....wrong. On a natural and metaphysical level.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, he rolls his eyes up to the clear sky. “Suit yourself.” And with that, he releases your thighs and  drops his shoulder, sending you toppling several feet into a pile of powdery snow.

“Oof!”

“I did warn you.”

Quick as a flash, you flip yourself onto your back and kick frantically at the snow, scrabbling away from him in a mad dash. Your eyes are still squinted painfully against the sudden intrusion of light, but the fear of not being able to see the stranger has you fighting to open them. One of your hands flies up to shield you from the brightness. Under that small blip of shadow, you blink rapidly and try to focus on the blurry shape in front of you. Slowly, the man comes into focus, and when he does, you don't scream, you don't even utter a peep. You can't. Terror has coated your tongue with lead.  

The stranger is looming over you, his eyes of smouldering embers staring down, half bored, half amused. He's like nothing you've ever seen. In the dark alley, his skin had looked pale but out here....

You'd seen a corpse, once. A young man you worked with, who had no immediate family, so the police called you in to identify the body. They hadn't even put him on ice yet, but he was disturbingly cold to the touch, regardless. His skin, a waxy grey with just the barest tint of purple, was stretched taut over his bones and clung in an ugly manner to every muscle and joint. 

You're reminded instantly of that man when you look at the one standing over you. His own skin is that same, pale grey – a stark contrast to his eyes which burn so brightly, they could even be made of fire - and you can see every single bulging muscle, every bone and tendon and every sinew as it hugs the broad expanse of his exposed chest and arms. On his face, he wears a white, mouthless death-mask which, in spite of his intimidating height, is really his most menacing feature.  

When he speaks, his voice rolls over you like brontide, different from when he spoke in the alley. Back then, it was sharp and strained because he had to raise it to be heard above a dying city. Now though...

“It’s alri-”

He only manages to get out half a sentence as he approaches before you release a terror-stricken scream and hurl a fistful of snow at him. It thwacks against his chest with a wet squelch and then slides down to his belly, dripping into the lining of the thick, leather belt that hangs around his scrawny waist.

Your eyes follow the trail, teeth chattering violently despite how hard you’ve clenched your jaw shut.

“...Charming,” he grumbles, though he doesn’t take another step towards you.

In a snap, your tongue comes unglued to the roof of your mouth and you splutter, “Wha! Where- What is this!? Where am I? Who...who are you? Let me go, I-I won’t tell anyone!” Too many thoughts run through your head and tumble out of your mouth in a desperate rush.

You barely even know what you’ve asked until he blinks slowly at you and replies, “This is the Crowfather’s realm and that should also answer your second question. Now, as for who I am...” He pauses to extend a hand, meaning for you to grab it so he can pull you up, but instead, you jolt and flail about in the snow for a moment, hurriedly pushing yourself back a few more feet.

Huffing, the man curls his fingers into a fist and it drops to his side again. With a roll of his eyes, he clears his throat and says, as casually as though he’s remarking on the weather, “I am Death.”

You blink at him for several, long, cold moments before raising your shivering fingers to your head and taking fistfuls of your hair between them. “No, no, no, no- haha!- No that’s not - Maybe I’m...Am I?”

Death quirks his head, narrows an eye and regards you curiously, It becomes relatively clear that you’ve lapsed into shock. Now you’re talking to yourself. Wonderful.

Suddenly, you exclaim sharply and snap your head up, the faintest glimmer of hope igniting in your chest and warming you in the frigid cold of the mountain snow. “Wait!” you laugh breathlessly, “Wait I know what this is! Oh my God. Oooh! Oh thank god!” Elated, you flop back into the snow and place a hand on your chest which heaves up and down, relieved.

“What’s wrong with you?” Death asks warily.

In response, you throw him a weak smile and gasp, “It’s just a dream!”

His expression immediately falls flat. 

With a deep sigh, Death pinches his nose-ridge and shakes his head disdainfully when he’s abruptly interrupted by something large and feathery landing on his shoulder and digging it’s talons into his pale flesh for balance. “And where’ve you been?” he asks the crow, throwing the enormous, black bird a disapproving look. By way of a reply, ‘Dust’ simply caws evasively and tilts his head, staring down at you with a dark, beady eye.

Paying no attention to the newcomer nor the man, you sit up quickly and rub at your eyes, still shivering fit to burst. “Alright, I’m dreaming,” you clarify, raising your hand and holding it parallel to your face, “None of this can be real. So, I just need to wake myself up. No big deal!”

Unsure exactly of what’s happening, Death glances at the crow and then at you before he ambles towards you hesitantly.

He jerks back not a moment later because there’s a sudden, resounding smack that makes even the reaper wince. With your eyes closed tight and brimming with fresh tears, you give yourself one more, hard slap for good measure and look up. Immediately, your face falls from hopeful anticipation to confused apprehension upon seeing him instead of the walls of your bedroom, as you’d expected.

“Wha-?” You pause, eyes flicking over his mask before you scrunch your face up and squeeze your eyes shut again. “Come on!” you plead shakily, “Wake. UP!” Repeating yourself over and over, you punctuate each word with a fresh smack.

Death and Dust exchange another look, the former apparently reading something in the crow’s expression because he says, “I don’t know. This is the strangest thing... Yes, humans have been known to faint when they see me.” Here, they both peer down at you again, Death crouching to study you closer. “But I’ve never seen one try to make themselves pass out.”

Rumpling his feathers, Dust squawks and flits from his master’s shoulder onto the snowy ground. He hops over to you until he’s right beside your left knee and chatters to get your attention.

“Huh?” you gasp, pulling your hand away from your reddening face and blinking down into the jet black eyes of the biggest crow you’ve ever seen. “W-woah...Is that a crow? I heard, dreaming about crows is a - OW!” You snatch away the hand that had just been resting innocently in the snow and clutch it to your chest protectively. “Hey!”

Dust, having decided to take the initiative, had seen fit to turn his sharp beak towards your forefinger and - completely unprovoked - given your soft flesh a razor-sharp peck.

Stunned, you give the crow a dirty look, crying out indignantly, “That really-” You hesitate, glancing down at your wounded finger. Hot, red blood oozes steadily down the length of it and drips into the snow at your feet. “-really...hurt?” Even though the temperature has to be well below zero, you can still feel the chill that dances up your spine. A heavy weight drops into your chest and all the sound from the outside seems so quiet next to the blood rushing in your ears. Falteringly, you drag your head up to fix a pair of petrified eyes upon the man crouched in front of you.

He seems to be preoccupied with scowling at the crow. “Haven't you even the common courtesy of waiting until its dead before you start eating something?” Dust merely resumes pecking at the fresh spots of blood that stain the snow. 

“No...” you breathe, drawing the attention of the pale, masked man again. His glare, though steady, carries the promise of a snapped temper that lays just a hairsbreadth under the surface. “No. Why didn’t that wake me up? You - you can’t be real! You are not real!”

Sneering beneath the mask, Death braces his hands against his knees and pushes himself to stand, all the while keeping your wild eyes locked with his. “You’d best hope,” he rumbles, “that I am real. Because as of now, I am the only thing standing between you and certain-.... Where do you think you’re going?”

Incredulous, Death’s jaw drops and he stares after you as you get to your feet, whirl around and begin to meander away from him on wobbly legs. “No! No, no, no. This is too much, this is too. Much!” The cold is finally starting to get to you, slowing your movements and tiring you out faster than normal. Snow, ankle deep, impedes your progress but still you march numbly away from the man calling himself ‘Death.’ There isn’t a bone in your body that is ready to accept that what’s happening to you is real.

Watching you stumble and trip your way down the mountain, Death’s mouth remains agape, at least until his brows snap together and he hardens his expression into something suitably steely. “Fine,” he shrugs, nonchalant, “I tried. If she dies, that’s her fault.” And with that, he turns on his heel, fully intending to pursue the actual reason he came to this realm; To find the Crowfather.

He makes it all of a few strides before Dust, who has since reclaimed the perch on Death’s pale shoulder, hisses at him vehemently. To his credit, Death ignores the crow for another several seconds. Then, his footsteps drag to a reluctant halt. “Don’t look back,” he murmurs, voice commanding. Though it’s unclear whether he’s talking to himself or the bird.

A few more strides forwards, and then..

“Damnit.”

---

You’ve made embarrassingly little progress down the snow covered mountain. Cold, lost and still half-convinced that this is all a mere figment of your imagination, you don’t even notice that you’ve stopped.

Your mind is blank, a desolate wasteland, void of intelligible thought. You feel like you’re caught fluctuating between shock and denial, which hardly seems fair. You’re supposed to be able to move past the shock, after which comes the denial. Not one, then the other and then back again. The pamphlets made it sound so clear-cut.

The icy wind slices painfully at your skin and whips strands of hair into your face, it’s biting presence sad proof that everything happening to you is happen for real. In an uncomfortable sense, the freshness of it on your skin helps you come around and think clearly again.  “I’ve got to get out of here...” you whisper, watching your breath come out in a puff of white fog. 

At that moment, something grabs a hold of your jumper’s thick scruff and lifts you clear off your feet. “Gack!” you exclaim, choking as you’re spun about in an iron grip to face the thing that has a hold on you. 

For a second, you’re convinced that Death has caught up to you and is staring furiously into your eyes, looking for all the world like he wants nothing more than to swallow you whole. But through the panic, you manage to discern that the narrowed eyes looming just inches from your face do not, in fact, look familiar. These ones are a frosty blue and they burn with considerably less intensity. And this bleached-white skull actually has a mouth. A mouth that stretches open wide in a hideous, guttural roar, flecks of saliva spraying over your exposed face and drenching you in the stinking liquid. 

Suddenly, it all begins to feel a tad too real. 

Reverting to the natural reaction one has when finding oneself in immediate danger, you open your own mouth and shout to the heavens as loud as you can, briefly startling the massive skeletal creature, “HELP!”

The skeleton’s teeth clack together close to your nose and it throws its head back, shrieking out a grating laugh that sounds more as if it’s trying to gargle a couple of nails. 

With a low growl, it drops it head again and exhales sharply through it’s nose, twin streams of cold air rushing out and hitting your face. Movement to your right catches your attention and you flick your gaze down to it, horrified to find that the skeleton’s right hand is balled into a fist and is raising up over it’s head.

Kicking out with your legs, you try to land a blow on its bony thigh. But its arms are too long and it holds you just out of reach. Suddenly, an idea springs to mind, one so simple, you kick yourself for not having thought of it sooner. Without hesitating a second further, you yank your arms through the holes in your jumper and duck your head, slipping free and falling to the ground. The skeleton grunts in surprise and throws the article aside to roar down at you as you struggle to your feet.

You shriek, throwing your arms up when it lunges, however, before it can get it’s sharp claws on you, a familiar, curved blade suddenly bursts out of its flesh, impaling the ice skeleton right below its sternum. It gives off one, wet grunt and then falls limp, dead....Deader

Your eyes are fixed on a pair of brown, leather boots, one of which lifts to kick the fallen creature out of the way. Tentatively, you trail your gaze up and up until you’re once again staring into the face of Death. Throwing his scythe back onto his belt, he glowers at you disdainfully and raises a finger to say something,  although he soon catches sight of your jumper, laying on the snowy ground. Scowl deepening, Death stalks over to it and plucks it up. He returns to you and, without waiting for you to take it, balls it up and throws it down to you. “Here,” he grumbles, “every layer counts in this realm. Especially to a human.” 

Unable to stand the abominable cold any longer, you give Death a wary once-over - unaware that he’s doing the same to you -before stuffing your hands back into the arm holes and pulling the jumper over your head, sighing at the brief respite it grants you from the air. 

Momentarily forgetting yourself, you pop your head out of the top and quietly whisper a quivering, “Thank you.” 

Death blinks, eyes going round in surprise. “You are...” he clears his throat awkwardly, “welcome.”

Patiently, he waits for you to finish adjusting your clothes. “So. Still convinced this a dream?” he asks, pulling something else from a pouch on his belt. 

Now, excruciatingly cold and far too tired both physically and emotionally, you inhale deeply through your nose and exhale. You repeat the motion a few times, just to calm down. It helps, but only fractionally, enough to raise your head and stammer between violent shivers, “Mo-more like a n-nightm-mare.”

‘Progress, at last,’ he thinks. 

This time, when Death reaches for you, you only flinch away. You don’t go into a full-blown panic like last time. “Relax,” he mutters with a roll of his eyes, “I’m only trying to give you this.”

Slowly, he opens his large hand and uncurls his fingers, revealing a familiar object you’d completely forgotten about until now. It sits easily in the palm of his hand, looking so tiny and ineffective.

“My..my gun!” you gasp, tentatively reaching for it. Hesitating before you grab it, you squint up at him, your brow slowly furrowing. You jump when he suddenly shakes it at you and barks, “Well? Take it. I don’t have all day.” 

‘Not strictly true,’ he muses, but doesn’t think it relevant. 

Nodding quickly, you snatch the gun out of his hand and clutch it in both hands, a wave of relief cascading over you when you feel it’s weight. Already, you feel safer. At last, curiosity begins to dribble into your mind so you look up dazedly and tilt your head to the side, regarding Death for a moment. “But. Why?” you ask. 

He busies himself by fiddling with the bandages around his wrists, replying, “You dropped it, after you shot that phantom general. I thought you might want it, so I grabbed it when I grabbed you.” 

You can’t help yourself. You have to ask, “But...a-aren’t you afrai-” 

“Afraid that you’ll use it to shoot me?” he interrupts. With a snort, Death crosses his arms across his chest and peers at you down his nose ridge. “You can go ahead and shoot me, if you like. I guarantee you won’t like the results. You could press that thing against my skull and empty the chamber and it wouldn’t really hurt me. I cannot be harmed by one of your flimsy, mortal weapons.” His voice turns smug and you can practically see the smirk beneath his mask. “One of the perks of being Death, little human. You’ll find I’m very hard to kill.” 

Interestingly enough, the pistol isn’t anywhere near as reassuring now. Swallowing thickly, you curl your legs away from him and tense your shoulders. Taking notice of this, he considers you for a while and hums pensively. Then, his demeanour changes. In the blink of an eye, he unfolds his arms and any trace of superiority disappears from his eyes. “If I wanted to kill you,” he explains more softly, “I would have left you to die when those demons attacked.” 

“De-demons!” you squeak, pressing a hand to your chest. “Those things were..demons!?”  

One of his eyes narrows. “You..have no idea what’s happening, do you?” he says slowly. When you shake your head, Death blows out his cheeks and rests a hand on his hip. “Well, I can shed some light on the subject, but not here. If I try to explain everything here, you’ll just freeze where you sit, and then where will we be? Now, come along.” 

Bending down, he doesn’t give you the chance to escape before he curls his fingers into the shoulder of your jumper and hauls you up and onto your feet. You’re about to start fighting him off, but he lets go and watches you with an unreadable expression. “I-I don’t want to go with you!” 

His only response is a languid blink. 

“I...I want to go home.” 

Overhead, the wind howls and huge chunks of nearby mountain peaks break off, tumbling down into the abyss below the clouds. All the while, you and Death are locked in a terse staring match, one that you both know he will win. To your surprise, Death breaks eye-contact first. With a shrug, he makes a show of  inspecting the dirt beneath his nails. “Suit yourself,” he hums, “No skin off my back. After all, now that you’ve got your gun, nothing in this realm stands a chance.” He turns on his heel and begins trudging back the way he came, calling over his shoulder, “Good luck. I imagine you’ll need a lot.” With that, he gradually begins to be obscured by the falling flakes of snow. 

“Hey, wait!” you shout, glancing around nervously, on the very cusp of panicking again, “At least...tell me which way home is!” 

Thankfully, Death draws to a halt a fair distance from you, looking back. “I told you, you’ll find no way back to Earth from this realm, and even if you could, your home is gone. There’s nothing left to go back to!” 

Unable to form a response, you gulp in air, feeling a heavy weight settle back over your heart. The sensation doubles when he begins to stroll further away again and you realise, with a hot thud of dismay, that the safest place you could be right now, is more than likely at his side. 

Stranded on a strange mountain, alone, cold, afraid and exhausted, you drop your head onto your chest, clamp your eyes shut and stuff your bottom lip into your teeth in an attempt to kickstart a bout of courage.  

Indecisively, you turn your head to peer down the mountain, away from Death. You could try to make it alone, but then again, you hadn’t made it a hundred yards before that skeleton monster appeared. You’d only survived because the strange, terrifying man calling himself ‘Death’ had saved you. Without answers, armed only with a small pistol carrying four bullets, you reluctantly drag your head back in the direction he’d disappeared, now completely invisible in the flurry of snowflakes. 

You put the gun into your waistband again before jamming your fingers under your armpits and draw in a long breath. “Hey, wait!” you yell, hurrying after what’s possibly the most dangerous person you’ve ever met in your life. 

Death tries not to let his smugness show in his eyes when he hears the rapid crunching of snow underfoot approaching from behind. out of the corner of his eye, he sees you sidle up beside him, maintaining a wide distance between you both but keeping pace, all the same. Softly, you ask, “Can I come with you?” 

“What changed your mind?” 

Giving a little shrug, you rub at your arms and shiver as a gust of wind picks up. “M scared.” 

“Good,” he replies immediately, “A little fear can be a very sensible thing, but it can also be quite counter-productive.”

“What happened?” 

Death shoots you a sideways glance, noticing that you’re keeping your eyes on the toes of your shoes, walking stiffly. He can smell your fear of him rolling off you in waves. Despite the broad question, he knows what you’re asking. “You’ve heard of the apocalypse?” he asks.

You nod, swallowing down a sob. Yes, you’ve heard of it, you just don’t want to believe it.

“Well, that’s what happened to your Earth,” he continues, pretending that he didn’t notice you smack a hand over your mouth to hide a wail of despair. “But it was never supposed to.” 

That got your attention. “What?” 

Death grumbles. “Someone triggered the apocalypse prematurely and framed my brother, War, for the crime. I intend to find out who did that, and why. Then, I’m going to kill them.” Lowering his voice, he sighs. “But first, I intend to prove my brother’s innocence-” He peers down at you, gauging your reaction when he adds, “-by resurrecting humanity.” 

To his surprise, rather than surprised or elated, as he’d expected, you merely furrow your brow, clinging to the sleeves of your jumper. “So....they’re really gone...” 

He doesn’t say anything, and you find your answer in that. 

The two of you walk on through the snow in silence for a while before his ears perk up at you mumbling, “So...how’re you gonna get them back?” 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “That’s what I’m here to find out. I need to consult the Crowfather. If anyone can point me in the right direction, it’s that old twit.” 

The reaper raises an eyebrow at an explosive sneeze that abruptly bursts out of you. Wiping your nose, you cast your gaze up to the sky, spotting a pitch black shape of Death’s crow soaring hundreds of feet over your heads. “The who?”

Grimacing, Death picks up his pace, which prompts you to trot after him in an effort to keep pace, apparently not picking up on his ploy to warm you up. “Stick close,” he orders, “And you’ll soon find out. I warn you though, he doesn’t take kindly to visitors, even those he’s expecting.” 

“....Death, was it?” you ask out of the blue, at last raising your glistening eyes to his face, “Did....did you say your brother’s name is....War?”

“I did,” he bobs his head, eyeing the looming cliff face up ahead that blocks your path.

“That wouldn’t....make you the...the um...the...”

“The horsemen of the apocalypse?” he finishes for you impatiently, “Yes. It would.”

“Oh,” you rasp, pursing your lips and nodding, “Shit.” 

-----------------------------

Chapter One: Revelations.

[rosekwartzcarrot]

Wisdom Teeth

Characters: Minghao, reader

Genre: Fluff ☀

Word count: 4.0k 

Warnings: None

↬ Minghao gets his wisdom teeth removed and you’re left to deal with aftermath. 

Minghao felt the floor tilt beneath his feet, like the ground was being swiped from underneath his black converse sneakers. All of a sudden, the world around him did a somersault and he landed onto the ground, the carpeted floor cushioning his fall and preventing him from getting a concussion. Though hopping out of the seat and wobbling to the common waiting room once his dentist excused herself – Minghao wondered if perhaps she had suddenly gotten the urge to visit the restroom – once seemed like a great idea to his giddy brain, he was beginning to doubt his previous intuition.

“Ow,” A sharp sting shot up his forearm as he winced, attempting to hoist himself into a sitting position but failing terribly due to the fact that his head felt like it was filled with lead. His surroundings were still spinning rather quickly for some reason, so he laid back down onto the carpet and wondered if it was going to stop anytime soon, deciding to wait until the feeling of his head being too overwhelmingly heavy for his body ceased, and he could walk properly without crashing to the ground once more.

The carpet doesn’t seem so bad anyways, he thought contently, it even smells fresh and new. And it’s fluffy too. Oh, that rhymed!

He then reached up to poke his numb, swollen cheeks, wondering why on earth he couldn’t feel anything other than a tingly, odd sensation there. There were two wet gauze pads lodged in the back of his mouth, making Minghao feel like an overfed chipmunk of some sort. His hands itched to yank them out of his mouth, but a distinct memory of his dentist strictly warning him not to remove it yet resurfaced from the depths of his hazy mind, causing the poor boy to sigh rather sadly. His fingers travelled down to his lips and he pinched them, but was unable to feel the signature slight prick of pain that came with the action.

Are my lips still there? he thought anxiously, pressing his hands to his mouth, patting his face in an attempt to locate his apparently missing lips.

“Hao, why are you lying on the ground?” A familiar face appeared in his field of vision, interrupting his intense task of finding his lips, distracting him momentarily as he squinted, willing the fog in his vision to clear.

“Y/N!” He cheered once his sluggish mind decided to catch up, the China-native lighting up like a child on Christmas day with recognition as he grinned brightly up at the sight of his friend.

“Hi,” she chuckled, crouching down beside his sprawled-out figure, delivering a playful bonk to his nose. It scrunched up in response as bubbly giggles spilled from Minghao’s lips.

“Hi! What a coincidence! Are you here to get your teeth out too? My mouth feels weird. I can’t feel my lips, I think they’re missing,” he blurted animatedly, his word filter seeming to have taken a self-declared holiday. His voice was a string of messily pronounced words and uneven syllables, wobbly tone morphing into a more solemn one when he uttered the last part seriously to her, and she had to swallow a burst of amused laughter.

“Um, no, I’m here to pick you up, silly. And your lips are right here, don’t worry,” she replied, amused as she lightly tapped his slightly swollen, pale pink lips with a finger. Though she was completely aware of the side effects of medicinal drugs administered during wisdom teeth removal procedures, she couldn’t help chuckling endearingly at the sight of the usual sensible Minghao being reduced to a loopy, disorientated mess by a dentist surgery.

“Really? But I can’t feel them!” he exclaimed, wide eyes staring up at her with genuine puzzle, eyebrows furrowing, and she resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks (it would probably be a very bad idea to do so, and she wisely kept her hands to herself) and coo at how adorably he wore the look of confusion.

“They’re there, trust me,” she assured, “Now why don’t we get you home? You can sleep in your bed instead of on the floor.”

 “But it’s nice here. It’s really fluffy, see? Touch!” he insisted, reaching for her hand and dragging it back and forth on the carpet to prove his point.

“Yes, Hao, I can see that. But do you really want to nap on the public floor, where possibly hundreds of people have stepped on with their dirty shoes?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he considered this slowly, the gears in his drugged mind taking triple its usual time to turn and process information.

“I like shoes,” he concluded with a happy nod, clearly having zoned in on the word ‘shoes’ and conveniently disregarding the rest.

“Look, aren’t my shoes nice?” he pointed at his own denim sneakers with a giddy smile. He reached down, attempting to grab a hold of his footwear while in his lying position, but finding it extremely challenging due to the fact that his legs were ridiculously long and he couldn’t seem to find the appropriate position to optimize his flexibility. Clumsily clutching his leg as he stretched out his fingers, he managed to snag his left sneaker, proceeding to shimmy it off his foot – exposing a pair of pastel blue socks, sprinkled all over with little splotches of rather aesthetically-pleasing pineapples.

He handed her his shoe, doe-eyes widened expectantly, as if encouraging her to take his black sneaker. When she made no move to retrieve it, merely staring at him with a confused gaze, he asked, “Don’t you like my shoe?”

“What?”

“Aren’t my shoes pretty?”

“Sure?” she wasn’t sure where did was going.  

“Do you want it?” he asked once more, holding out his sneaker to her, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to randomly offer one’s shoes to someone for no reason. Incredulity and amusement fought for dominance in the look she directed at him, and she bit back a snort of laughter.

“No, thanks. I don’t think it’ll fit me. You keep it.”

He considered this, his gaze flickering to her feet, encased in a pair of sleek black boots – yes, they did appear much smaller than his, he observed with a queer mixture of dismay and awe.  

“Your feet are tiny,” he commented in amazement, staring at them as if they were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

“So I’ve been told. Put your shoes back on, Hao, we’re going home,” she ordered, though the grin on her lips betrayed her commanding tone, proceeding to give him a small bop on the nose. He giggled, nodding sloppily, his body curling up once again like some sort of inflexible millipede as he tried shoving his foot back into the footwear.

“Here, let me help you,” she sighed somewhat fondly when his lips twisted up into a little pout at his failure to put his shoe back on – Minghao reassembled a starry-eyed child in his drug-induced state, his odd antics rather amusing and adorably child-like, making it impossible for her usual impatient streak to rear its head at him. Helping the boy into a sitting position and making sure he did not fall over, she pulled his sneaker back over his foot and secured its laces, feeling awfully like a mother tending to a clumsy child who miraculously managed to lose a shoe whilst playing.  

“Y/N,” he whispered as he beckoned her closer with a flick of his hand, as if he were about to indulge her in some enormous secret. Despite the arising inkling that it was nothing of such sort, she decided to humour him anyways, leaning in so he could mumble right into her ear.

“My foot felt so cold without my shoe. But now its warm again!” he murmured with an excited nod, wriggling his toes in awe, as he wore an expression that suggested she had just handed him the sun. She couldn’t help the grin that tugged on her lips at his statement despite the absurdity of his statement, rolling her eyes half-heartedly.

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go.”

A few minutes of persuasion and persistent convincing saw his relent, and he allowed her to haul him up without putting up a struggle. Her small victory was cut short when a pair of lanky arms wrapped affectionately around her shoulders, and the tall boy pulled her into a sloppy hug, resting his chin onto the top of her head.

“Hao, what are you doing?”

“You saved my foot from frostbite, so I need to thank you with a hug,” he stated simply – like it was the most obvious thing in the world, even babies would have gotten it – tightening his hold slightly as he nuzzled his cheek into her hair.

“That’s cute, but it’s a little difficult to walk,” she chuckled despite her previous efforts seeming as if they had been bounced back to square one.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologised sheepishly, but still refused to release her from his arms, only loosening his grasp as if it were a wonderful solution to her current problem of being unable to walk. Not having the heart to break free from his warm hug and possibly send him to fitful tears, she allowed him to cling to her like an extremely devoted baby koala as she made her way out of the dental clinic, choosing to ignore the amused glint in the dentist’s eyes when she turned to thank her politely.

“Thank you!” Minghao echoed cheerfully, waving frantically at the dentist. He was confused when the lady laughed, his mind churning with puzzlement as he wondered why the dentist appeared so amused. He didn’t think there was anything particularly entertaining about rows and rows of teeth or the shiny silver tools she fixed them with. Minghao’s brain seemed to have awakened slightly from its previous daze, and it began whirring busily as it conjured up a series of possibilities that could have caused her amusement. Maybe the dentist had extracted a gold tooth – he imagined it would be a pleasant change from the usual rows of pearly, boring white. Perhaps she was so utterly impressed by his sense of humour and his impeccable acquiescence while she worked at his teeth. Or perhaps, just perhaps, could she have been laughing at his teeth?

A cocktail of horror and embarrassment bubbled in the cauldron of his stomach at the thought of his precious teeth becoming the laughing stock of the entire dental clinic – how mortifying! A hot blush suffused up his cheeks, saturating it with a rosy red as he buried his face in his hands, whining incoherently. So engrossed in the world of his jumble thoughts was he, that he failed to notice they had arrived at Y/N’s car – to which she was pleasantly surprised with his lack of resistance when she wriggled out of his grasp and eased him into the passenger seat, strapping the seatbelt over him easily.

By the time Minghao decided to resurface from his own little universe, the sterile, white building of the dental clinic was long out of sight, and they currently appeared to be stuck in traffic, bright red lights from the rear bulbs of the vehicle in front invading his vision.

“Y/N!” he called to grab her attention, and when she responded with a quick questioning glance to let him know he had successfully hailed it, he asked glumly, “Are my teeth funny?”  

“What? Why would you ask that?”

“The dentist lady laughed at me earlier,” he muttered, a petulant edge creeping into his tone as a pout laced itself onto his lips. Shooting him another glance of disbelief, she had to choke back a rising laugh that threatened to rise from the depths of her stomach when she noticed his uncanny resemblance to a moody, sullen chipmunk – she did not want to risk evoking further sulkiness if he suspected she was supposedly ‘laughing at his teeth’.

“She wasn’t laughing at your teeth, dummy. Stop touching them, your teeth are fine,” she managed to say with a straight face.

“How did you know I was touching them?” Minghao’s tone suggested he was baffled by her apparent superpowers.

“I can see you doing it.”

“Oh.”

“She wasn’t laughing at your teeth, you know?” she repeated once more when she caught his disgruntled expression from the corner of her eye.

“Really?” his large eyes were dark, chocolate pools of innocence, pure child-like hopefulness swimming in their rich brown swirls as he blinked curiously.

“Yes, really.”

He seemed satisfied with her reply, beaming brightly.

“You have nice teeth too,” he felt obliged to return, his voice coloured with a sincere, misplaced graveness that sounded as if he were reciting a grim oath rather than throwing her a sweet compliment.

“Thank you.”

The remainder of the trip back to Minghao’s apartment was filled with the said boy fumbling with the radio for about half the duration of the car ride (he claimed he could not find a station worth listening to, as they refused to play ‘his jam’ and his reasonable explanation for this was that the universe was out to get him), off-key belting of lyrics that soon turned into flat-out yelling and the occasional random, peculiar questions courtesy of the drugs present in the his system. By the time they arrived at the 20-storey building, Y/N was almost certain the dull throb that had developed in her temples was going to worsen as the day progressed; her ears seemed as if they were about to shrivel up and drop off her head like a leaf in autumn.

If the car ride was a struggle, the process of hauling Minghao up to the 7th floor was torture – and it didn’t help that he couldn’t seem to stop swaying unsteadily on his feet, nearly tripping over thin air and ending up plummeting face down onto the ground had she not caught him first. He then resumed his previous position of attaching himself tightly to her like some kind of overenthusiastic starfish, leaning the entirety of his weight onto her smaller frame as they made their way to his apartment.

She was sweating profusely by the time she dumped Minghao ungracefully onto the sofa of his living room, her back beginning to ache at the effort.

“Are you ok?” he asked, blinking innocently at her as she caught her breath, as if he was not the culprit who had caused her exhaustion. His expression morphed into one of utmost befuddlement when she gave him a half-hearted glare, sinking down onto the sofa beside him.

She then reached to yank his shoes off, but was stopped when he yelped abruptly, “Why are you taking my shoes?”, causing her to jump about 5 feet into the air in fright.

“So you don’t get dirt all over the place,” she deadpanned once she recovered from her shock, sensing that she was about to face another round of Minghao’s whiny stubbornness. He seemed appalled by the concept of removing his sneakers – and she suspected it had something to do with the conversation that went down at the dentist’s.

“But I want to wear them,” he said stubbornly, his pink lips curving into a pout once more, tucking his legs into his chest as if to hide his shoes from her, his poor attempt to prevent her from removing them. She rolled her eyes, trying to discretely inch closer to him while doing so. Seeming to have suddenly understood her intentions, Minghao hopped off the couch in one swift motion, clearly aiming to escape from her evil plans to remove his shoes. Except he didn’t quite get to carry out his plan, as he then proceeded to trip over thin air and tumble to the ground, landing with a muffled ‘oof’.    

She took this opportunity to tear his sneakers from him feet, bringing them to the shoe rack by the door as she promptly ignored the whines that followed.

“You’re mean!” he huffed childishly, remaining lying on the ground, awfully reassembling an overgrown kid throwing a temper tantrum.

“I try.”

“You’re a… a…” he had trouble coming up with an appropriate insult to nail her with, struggling to catch one in the muddled mess that was his mind, finally settling with, “You’re a butt!”. He looked pretty self-satisfied with his word choice, giving her a smug look.

“You wound me,” she replied flatly.  

“My feet are cold now.”

“Good to know,” her nonchalant responses were splashed with a hint of her usual sarcasm that Minghao didn’t seem capable of processing in his current state of mind. He was intrigued by the indifference in her tone, misinterpreting it for bitter coldness or anger. She failed to notice this as she plopped herself down onto the sofa with a sigh of relief – she could finally sit.

“Are you mad?” he said worriedly, getting onto all fours and crawling up to her, climbing onto the couch clumsily. He leaned closer to her when she shook her head, curious as to how he came up with this – though she wasn’t quite sure why his doe-eyes appeared to be meticulously studying her features as if they were some kind of abstract painting displayed in the museum that he couldn’t quite figure out. Despite this, she couldn’t help the smile that twitched on her lips, a burst of endearment brewing in her chest at the childlike question.

Just when she felt tempted to break his intense stare by snapping her fingers in front of his face, he promptly plopped his head onto her lap, smiling up sweetly at her. Her eyes widened considerably at the unexpected action – Minghao wasn’t exactly what she would call an openly affectionate person. In fact, he was usually rather shy and reserved when it came to physical affection, and would rarely initiate it. But here he was, head propped in her lap, those round, brown eyes staring at her expectantly.

At the questioning arch of her brow, he pointed to his own light brown hair, a hopeful expression tugging on his features. Not understanding his actions, she wondered if he was perhaps aware that she was ticklish – whenever he moved his head (which was a lot), the fine strands of his silky hair would lightly brush against her skin and trigger her innate urge to squirm at the ticklish sensation.

“What?” she asked, confused.

He didn’t answer, only wriggled around attempting to locate her hand. By some magical means, he managed to find it, then proceeded to guide it towards the crown of his head, as if wordlessly demanding to be given a scalp massage. She complied, gently running her fingers through his raven hair, soft and smooth under her touch. He visibly relaxed, tension in his muscles leeching away as he sighed contently, a smile present on his lips.

“Mm… feels nice,” he murmured happily, repositioning himself to find a more comfortable position on the sofa (due having overly long limbs, his socked feet stuck out from the end of the couch, and Y/N found it mildly amusing). They remained like that for a while, until a mewling yawn escaped his lips, breaking the cosy blanket of silence that had settled gently over their shoulders. He stared up at her through half-lidded, unfocused eyes as sleep begun to tighten its hold on him.

Something nagged at the back of her mind, a piece of information that she couldn’t quite conjure up at the moment, yet knew it was something that held utmost importance, and she racked her brain for it.

“Wait, before you fall asleep, remove the gauze in your mouth,” she blurted upon recollecting this vital fragment of memory, the dentist’s advice drifting back into her mind – Minghao was to replace the gauze pads in his mouth with fresh ones every hour or so until the bleeding stopped, and she was pretty sure an hour had passed since then. At his irresponsiveness, she gently poked his forehead to prevent him from succumbing to slumber, earning herself a whine from him.

“What?” he moaned grumpily, a sulky edge creeping into his tone as he reluctantly opened his eyes to peer at her, clearly disgruntled to be denied sleep.

 “Replace the gauze in your mouth,” she repeated, reaching for her shoulder bag that had been conveniently strewn across the coffee table within arm’s reach because Minghao did not seem too keen on moving his head from its makeshift pillow – this resulted in lots of pain in multiple parts of her body due to her lack of flexibility. She had shoved a packet of sterile gauze pads from the dentist into her little bag earlier, and now retrieved two pieces, handing them to him.

“Here.”

It took a crapload of willpower for her to allow Minghao to spit two blood-soaked balls of wet gauze into her gingerly cupped hands (because he nearly decided that it was fine to spit it onto the carpeted ground, and she wasn’t going to be responsible for cleaning that up), but eventually she managed to compose herself with the assurance that there were wet wipes in her bag.

Minghao was oblivious to her internal crisis, sloppily sticking the gauze pieces into his mouth, struggling as the numbness in his cheeks prevented him from identifying the exact area to position the pads. Looking up to her for help, his features involuntarily scrunched up into a small frown when she failed to pay him attention, too busy cleaning up her hands with wipes and chucking the used gauze into a plastic bag she had magically produced from that little bag of hers – it mystified him as to how such a tiny bag could contain so much. He decided to wait patiently until she was done (I am such an angel, he thought, feeling rather pleased with himself) so she could focus her entire attention on his latest problem.

“You good?” she asked once she was finally done, having felt his persistent gaze on her.  

“No – I don’t know where to put it,” he told her blatantly, reassembling a child who has misplaced the instruction manual for his latest Lego set and was now stranded in an abyss of befuddlement.  

“Just shove it to the far end of your mouth,” she instructed, gently taking his hand that had clutched a piece of gauze and guiding it to right where his gum was still persistently oozing with blood. He beamed at her gratefully once both gauze pads were snugly tucked into his mouth, allowing her to take his hands and clean them off with a wipe, enjoying the light floral fragrance they emitted.

“Can I sleep now?” he questioned, another yawn forcing its way up his throat.

“Yes, you can,” she chuckled at his naive question, fondness tickling her heart when he gave a quiet cheer, burrowing his face into her lap as his eyelids fluttered shut. Absentmindedly brushing the fine strands that had fallen over his forehead away, her fingers wove themselves into his hair, gently playing with the short locks until his breathing evened out. Her fingers travelled down to gently outline the smooth slopes of his face – sleep had a way of softening his features, a peaceful tranquillity cast over him. Minghao was both enchantingly winsome and irresistibly adorable; a beautiful, endearing being.

When Minghao awakens up from his nap, an agonizing throb would begin to materialize in his cheeks as the drug the dentist dosed him with wore off, and this would most likely result in a series of cursing, followed by days of whining. She reckoned there would also be an extremely entertaining session of him squealing in embarrassment and trying to hide his face in some pillow when she relayed the entire process of taking him home and having to fight him to take his shoes off.

A mischievously little smile snuck its way onto her lips at the thought.

Until then.