#but I haven't written angst in a while and it's kind of fun guys

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Idol!Song Mingi x F!Reader TW : reader is an internatiol ATINY ; nationality unspecified ; pure angst ; long distance relationship ; arguing ; disastrous break up ; heartbreak ; it's just sad ; he's a little bit, slightly yandere ; Word Count : 8.0k A/N : Mingi angst!! Yay! Haven't written for ATEEZ in a good bit! This one is fun! I have full control and I love it! Time for some heartbreak!! This turned a little yandere... But I hope you still like it! Also, I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm trying to write as much as I can! Request : Anonny : hi! I was wondering if you could do a mingi angst! I've been reading your angst fics and well just your gifs for like the past year and never had the courage to ask until now! I don't really have specifics and you could just do whatever you want with plot wise or something! I haven't thought about plot and stuff yet, just mingi angst 😭

The last fancall, it was kind of sad, but in a way, also relieving. They got to just relax after this call, they didn’t have to try to understand what an international fan was saying, not that it was a problem, but it was hard, although they’d never expect anyone to learn Korean just for them. They all loved talking to ATINY though, even if it were just a few, they got to personally get to know them for a minute or two, they got to joke with them, laugh with them, even playfully flirt with them. It was just nice to have some kind of interaction with the fans that brought them to where they were today. 

It was your first fancall, you weren’t even sure how you had gotten so lucky to be chosen, but you had been, and when you got the email you screamed so loud that your neighbor started banging on the walls. Something as small as a video call, but it was huge to you, it felt like a dream. Surely, anyone who wasn’t a fan of k-pop wouldn’t understand, they’d probably think you were crazy for getting so excited over something like this… But this just might be the closest you’d ever get to any of them, and it would most definitely be the only time you ever got to talk to them. 

You had done your hair and your makeup and you had changed your outfit about six times before settling on something more casual. It’s not like any of them would remember you anyway, and you weren’t even upset about that, you were just glad to be able to have this opportunity… an opportunity that had you so insanely flustered that you could barely even speak when Hongjoong showed up on your screen. 

How embarrassing it was to sit in front of your favorite idols, not all of them at once, but one by one, they all got to look at you and see you looking so absolutely enamored that they were in fact actual people. The most you could get out was a ‘hello’, and even that was kind of squeaky and they would laugh, which in turn would make you more shy. They were all so nice though, asking you what your favorite song was and who your bias is, even though you couldn’t seem to find your voice. You wondered if things like this happened often. 

Then you got to Mingi, who was last second to last in the lineup. He wasn’t exactly your bias, you didn’t really have one, they were all amazing and attractive in their own personal ways. But damn did he look good. If you were awestruck before, you were completely starstruck now, your eyes widening as you took in his perfect features and just… everything about him. 

“Oh my god…” You said, under your breath you had assumed, but he had to have heard you considering he turned around and looked behind him before looking back at the camera to smile and wave at you. “Hi…” His turn was slightly different, it made you feel different. The other guys had simply looked at you, but it felt like Mingi was really looking at you. What did he see? Did you have something in your teeth? Was your hair messed up? You felt shy, like you were standing right in front of your crush. It was crazy. 

“You ever been to Korea?” He asked, and it was so blunt, but he had this cheeky smile on his face that both eased your nerves and somehow had them going haywire at the same time. You giggled nervously and shook your head no. “You should come, it’s nice here. A lot of pretty girls, you’ll fit right in.” He… He just called you pretty? Was this fan service? It had to be! He was just really really good at it. “Do you have a boyfriend?” None of the other guys had asked you these types of questions, why were things getting so personal? Why didn’t you seem to mind it when it was coming from him? You shook your head no once again. “Good. I’m your boyfriend now. Okay?” 

It probably wasn’t a good time to take a sip of water, not that you had expected him to say something like that, but you spit it out all over your desk, completely in shock at the words that you had just heard him say. There was no way he was being serious right now. His fan service was immaculate. “Oh…Okay!” You stammered out, and you wondered how long this would go on. He had surely passed up the timer. 

“My turn now!!” You heard Wooyoung shout from beside him, and Mingi groaned loudly as his bottom lip jutted out. “I’m gonna steal your girlfriend, deal with it.” He teased, and you let out a small sigh. It was just fan service. You felt kind of foolish for momentarily getting worked up over something that he probably said to 20 other people today. 

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” He asked, his words coming out rushed, and what the hell were you supposed to do? Say no?! You obviously wanted to see him again, that would be awesome, but the chances of you winning a fan call raffle twice were so low, you would be crazy to think that you’d ever have a moment like this again. 

“Yeah… Yeah, you will.” You said, because even though you knew he was just very skilled in acting, you might as well play along with it. For a few short seconds, you had been Song Mingis girlfriend… And now that you had moved to a call with Wooyoung… All you could think about Mingi and his words and the way he looked at you. It drove you crazy… He drove you crazy. He had just become your ultimate bias though!

///

“I’m not gonna be able to go to the Ateez concert.” Your friend mumbled, and part of you, the more selfish part of you, was partially glad that she wasn’t able to go. She had flaunted the fact that she got front row tickets and you hadn’t been able to get even a back seat, they were sold out before payday. “Stupid fucking job, not giving me a day off. I requested it too!” 

“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, trying your best to sympathize with her, but all you could selfishly think was that if you weren’t lucky enough to go, she shouldn’t be lucky enough to go either. “Are you going to sell the ticket? You could get some good profit considering it’s a front row seat.” You quizzed, but the way she was looking at you made you quite uneasy. It looked like she was planning something… or at least thinking of something, and you didn’t know if it was malicious or something else completely. She was hard to read. 

Long, manicured nails tapped against the table top, the sound putting you even more on edge, and then she sighed. “I know that your birthday is coming up, and… well I’m poor because I bought this damn ticket so…” Her shoulders shrugged, but there was a slight, tight lipped smile spreading across her face. “I’m just gonna give it to you. Happy early birthday! Yay! Tell Yuno I love him so much.” 

Your jaw might as well have been on the floor. Was fate really giving you a good hand this year? Was this all that good karma you had earned from being a wonderful citizen in society? “Holy shit… No way! Are you being serious right now?” You just had to be sure. There was no way someone would just give up a front row ticket, especially not for free, even if it were your best friend. There had to be some kind of clause. 

“Yes, I’m serious. Now, accept it before I change my mind and just skip work that day. I would have done that anyway if I didn’t have to pay rent.” She rolled her eyes and sunk down in her seat. “Take as many pictures and videos as you can… for me. Please! That’s all I’m asking for.” You nodded your head firmly, shit, that was the easiest thing you’d have to do. “He’ll probably look so good… Maybe…” 

“No take backs!” You blurted out, your finger waving back and forth as you stared at her, and you hoped that she thought you were just goofing around and that your expression didn’t let on just how panicked you felt just by her words. “I will facetime you just so you feel like you’re actually there… Okay?” She was sulking, as anyone would be, you knew damn well that you would be if you were in the same position as her. 

“Just have fun… And make a big sign, you have to get at least one of them to notice you, especially since you’re front row. Take advantage of those seats, bitch.” She teased, reaching her hands across the table to grab yours as she let out a little squeal, kicking her feet and acting as if she were still the one going. Maybe she was just trying to hype you up. “I gave you the best birthday gift, nobody can top me, they shouldn’t even try.” 

“They should definitely still try though… I mean… I like getting things.” She snorted loudly, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with her. She was absolutely crazy and you absolutely adored her. A world without her as your best friend would be dull and boring and you didn’t even want to think about how sad it would be. You would have the best time of your life at that concert, and you’d do it for her. 

///

Picking out an outfit for something like a concert was much harder than picking out an outfit for a video call. This was important, especially since you were going to be in the front row. One of them - hopefully Mingi - would look directly at you at some point. You couldn’t just be casual about it, you had to draw attention to yourself, you had to make sure that you were noticed. This decision felt more crucial than anything else in your life, and that seems quite absurd, but these guys had been the subjects of all your dreams and daydreams, you at least wanted to look good in front of them. 

You had only been to one other concert in your entire life, and it was back during middle school for an indie group when you were going through your “emo” phase. This was bigger than that, you could already tell as you pulled up to the arena and saw the people pouring into the entrance. Your heart was hammering in your chest, it was crazy, you had even gotten there 2 hours early to try to make things easier on yourself but the crowd was already massive. 

The lightstick in your hand was already shaking, but only because of your nerves, but you knew that you couldn’t just sit in the back of the Uber forever, so you climbed out, taking a deep breath before heading into the building. It was somehow more packed inside than it was even outside and it was so insanely congested that it felt more like a train station than an arena for a concert. Did all concert venues look like this or was it just because ATEEZ was performing? 

Since you were front row, you got to go in and watch them warm up… funnily enough, you felt you might miss it considering you didn’t have a single idea where the hell you were going. You were trying your best to navigate through this cluster of people that were just as excited as you were, and you wished that you had someone to help walk you through this whole thing. It was so loud and you were being bumped into, and while they apologized for it, it didn’t make you any less anxious. 

By the time you finally made it in the arena, you were just exhausted. The big sign that you had made and brought along with you had miraculously made it through all of it unscathed, but you were drained. You dropped down into your seat, hoping that your hair and your outfit had survived as well as the sign, but there was no mirror and you didn’t want to risk getting lost on your way to or from the bathroom, so you just had to rely on that hope that you still looked as good as you did when you left the house. 

It felt like you hadn’t even had enough time to really catch your breath or cool off before the guys were walking out on stage. Everyone around you was screaming, but you were so enamored by the sight of them, literally right in front of you, that your mouth was hanging open but no sound was coming out. You had really thought that the video call was the most amazing thing, but now, you were sure that you were wrong. They were legitimately real, they were right in front of you. “Holy shit…” You mumbled to yourself, and for some reason, even though there were still a pretty good amount of people around you, you were self conscious, you were shy, you were nervous. 

They came to the edge of the stage, one by one, and they all walked by and finished hand hearts that other people were making and stayed still long enough to be in selfies with certain people, none of them really stopped for longer than a minute tops… No one, other than Mingi. 

Oh, Mingi… Who had managed to make your heart flutter through a simple video call, he made you feel like you were going crazy… Surely he wouldn’t remember you though. But why… Why did he full stop on your side of the stage? Why did he kneel down in front of you, his eyes locking with yours as his head tilted to the side? Gosh, he was adorable. There was no way that he would notice you after the couple months that had passed. The video call hadn’t lasted long enough for your face to be saved in his memory. Had it? 

The chants of the people beside you seemed to pull him out of whatever trance he was in, and he quickly stood up and scurried along the stage, but it didn’t go unnoticed that he continued to look back at you, his eyes narrowing as if in deep thought. Did he remember you? 

Soon enough they were off the stage and the rest of the stadium began to fill. The noise was much worse inside the arena, the sound just echoing off the walls and filling your ears, and you wondered how people could handle it constantly. You were sure that you’d have a major headache once you got out of there. The sudden influx of people and the growing excitement of the show that was about to begin had taken your mind off of the slightly strange interaction from before. You shouldn’t think so hard about those things, it was foolish and you didn’t want to be delusional. 

As the show started, the screams that you had originally thought to be loud seemed to multiply tenfold and your ears were already ringing. Of course, you had a seat right next to the speaker. Would your eardrums even make it through the night? Were there enough ibuprofen in the world to soothe the awful ache in your head once you got back home? 

It didn’t matter now, you just wanted to enjoy the show. You were here to enjoy the concert, to live the experience… But also, not forget to get enough video footage of Yunho to thank your friend for the ticket. This was something that you wouldn’t be able to do again, at least for a long time. Screw the headache, you should enjoy it while it lasts, and that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

///

“I swear, I think that’s her in the front row.” Mingi said backstage after the warmups. The guys all stared at him like he was crazy, but he knew that he wasn’t. He knew your face, he knew your eyes, they had filled his dreams every night… They thought he was crazy for that too. “I’m so serious right now. I wouldn’t say it’s her if it wasn’t.” 

Wooyoung snorted, but patted Mingi on the back as he walked by. “Maybe you’re the delusional one. Spotting your dream girl out in the crowd. That’s crazy. Come on, we have to get ready. Get your head out of your ass.” Mingi pouted as he walked over to the stylist and dropped down into his seat beside Hongjoong. 

“I’m being so serious right now. You believe me, right? I mean… You saw her in the call. You know what she looks like. That was her out in the crowd… Right?” Mingi asked, trying to keep his voice down so that Wooyoung wouldn’t come over and completely crush his dreams and rain on his parade. Hongjoong chewed on his bottom lip, looking at Mingi through the mirrors that were in front of them. “You… You believe me… Don’t you?” 

Hongjoong sighed, turning to Mingi with a slight pout. “I didn’t… But if you really believe you saw her, I’m happy for you. I’m not going to tell you that you’re crazy.” He pushed himself up off of his chair and stretched, preparing himself for the show that he was about to put on for all the fans. “It’s almost time to go out there…” 

“Yeah! Maybe you’ll see your girlfriend!” Wooyoung chimed in, seemingly coming from out of nowhere. “It’s okay to be delusional, bud. I’m not judging you for it.” Although it seemed like he was judging him a lot for it, Mingi tried to avoid the teasing and focus more on the fact that he was about to head out on stage in less than five minutes. 

He was so nervous though, not for the reasons that most would think though. Being up on stage in front of thousands of people wasn’t the issue, it was being up on stage in front of you. What were the chances of you winning a fancall and being at a show too? It’s like the universe was trying to bring the both of you together. He truly believed that. He couldn’t think of any other reason for those two things to happen. Especially with you being right in front… Front row seats, like he was meant to see you. It wasn’t a coincidence, it couldn’t be, and he knew that it was you. Your face was unforgettable to him. He daydreamt about it every day, he would have dreams of you every night. He couldn’t get you out of his head. 

///

The speakers in front of you send vibrations through the air around you, you could feel it in your muscles, in your bones. The entire arena went dark for a moment, and then you heard the crowd roar as they walked out. You had already seen them once during their warm up, but it was like the first time again, your breath held in your lungs as they walked out, the music crescendoing the closer they got to the edge of the stage. 

It felt like when you ride a rollercoaster, the slow climb to the top of the hill, and you knew that the edge was coming soon, that feeling of falling, excitement and fear all in one… But this time there was no fear, it was just the strange tingly feeling in your stomach, that last breath of air before you’d let it all out in one loud scream. 

Building and building, their bodies like shadows in the darkness, and then with one click the spotlights turned on and they were illuminated, the bright lights shining on each and every one of them, but you were only looking specifically at one. An audible gasp left your lips as you seemed to once again lock eyes with Mingi.

Your hands shook as you held up the sign that you had made, feeling quite foolish now as it was hoisted above your head. “Call Me Mingi”, with your phone number written neatly at the bottom. It was a joke, one that your friend had laughed about right alongside you as she added the glitter to the glue hearts that had been neatly placed along the board. 

It was crazy, you and your friend both agreed to that, but it was probably a good switch up from the typical signs that asked the idols to marry them. What was even crazier though was when Mingi pulled out his phone, aiming it in your direction and snapped a quick photo. You couldn’t be delusional, being delusional wasn’t good for your heart or your mind, but you also couldn’t help but think that maybe he took the photo so that he could check back on the sign… So that he could call you… 

The rest of the concert felt more like a blur, stuck in your own mind thinking about what Mingi could have wanted that picture for. You didn’t see any of the other guys taking pictures of the crowd… Or maybe you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice if they did. You couldn’t stop thinking about it though, and before you knew it, the concert was over and you couldn’t even remember the setlist or the last song they played before the main lights in the arena turned back on and everyone began filing out. 

Your friend was going to kill you, you hadn’t gotten a single video of Yunho for her. You honestly were quite pissed at yourself as well. This is why delusions aren’t good at all. You missed the whole concert, one that you most likely were never going to be able to experience ever again, because you were too busy thinking about whether Song Mingi, a literal idol, would make the time to call someone like you. 

///

“You didn’t get a single video of Yunho!? Oh my god!” Your friend whined as you laid in bed, your phone next to your head, not even on speaker, but her voice was loud enough that it didn’t need to be. “Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t go to the concert. I can’t afford to be a delulu as your ass.” 

“I’m sorry!” You mumbled, throwing your hands over your face and letting out a loud groan. “I just… I’m not even thinking about him calling my number at this point. I just don’t want him to post a picture of it online and have a bunch of people trying to call me or text me, you know?” You explained, finally getting over your delusions and moving onto a safer, yet still highly panic inducing train of thought. 

“Oh! Your phone is going to be blowing up! You’ll finally be super popular!” Your friend teased, snorting loudly as she said it, but you could only muster a slightly annoyed shut up in response before your phone started vibrating. “It begins! Maybe he did post it!” 

“Oh hell no! I’ll call you back!” You said quickly, ending the call with your friend to quickly answer the incoming call. “Look. I don’t know where you got my number, but if it’s from where I think it is, I will not tolerate unsolicited calls. This is harassment.” 

“Oh…” The voice on the other end was quite timid, but you could tell it was a guy. He sounded kind of nervous, and although all of you wanted to believe who you thought it was, you didn’t want to go down that road again, at least not tonight. “But your number was on the sign… I thought you wanted the phone call.” 

“The sign was a joke!” You explained exasperatedly, kicking your legs like a toddler in the store who was throwing a temper tantrum. You surely didn’t want to deal with this right now. “Unless you are Song Mingi, I’d advise you to hang up the phone and find someone else to bother this late at night.” 

There was a chuckle, although the sound was slightly muffled, but it was extremely agitating that someone found this funny. As if harassment was something comical nowadays. “So I shouldn’t hang up the phone then… Right?” You scoffed loudly, finally getting up from your bed and pacing around your room, something that you often did when you were just too annoyed to sit still. 

“Look, this isn’t funny. If you’re doing this to mess with me, I’m sure you’ve already had your fun. I’m trying to get some sleep, I’m exhausted. It would be really cool of you to not fuck with people like this.” The words came out in huffed breaths, you were beyond pissed, not just at whoever this person was, but at yourself for being stupid enough to put your number out so publicly just on the small chance that someone like Song Mingi would actually dial your number. 

A soft hum, and then your phone started vibrating again, this time an invite to a video call that you surely weren’t up to accepting. You let it continue ringing until it ended, and you thought that it would be a one and done type of thing, but then it started vibrating again. “Just for a second, you don’t even have to be on the camera, I just want to show you something.” 

You didn’t exactly mean to laugh as loudly as you did, but you had heard that line one too many times in your lifetime to trust it. “Look bud, I don’t want to see a live action shot of your dick and balls. I wasn’t born yesterday.” You snarkily shot back, and the audible gasp that came through your speaker had it crackling slightly. 

“Who did that to you? That’s disgusting… Hold up. We don’t have to call. I’ll just… Send you a selfie real quick. Not of my dick and balls.” Were you so annoyed that you were laughing, or did you actually find him funny? You weren’t sure, but regardless of what it was, you laughed at his little quip, your hand moving over your mouth so that the guy didn’t think he was actually getting anywhere right now. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand once again, and luckily it was only once, but when you went to your texts, you were met with a selfie of the guy that was on the other end of the line… The guy that the sign had been made for. “I call bullshit!” You blurted out, because there was no way in hell your little glitter bomb sign would have worked. You just couldn’t fathom it.

“Reverse image search it then. It doesn’t exist anywhere else than in your messages.” He said rather bluntly, quite cockily too. Now that you were really listening to his voice though, you couldn’t deny that it sounded all too familiar to the voice you heard at the concert, and not just that, but the voice you had heard in your phone before when you had won the fancall. You were stunned into silence, you didn’t know what to say or what to do next, and he could tell. “You believe me now?” 

“Mmhm…” Was all you could mutter, because what else were you supposed to say? How were you supposed to think of anything coherent when you were currently in a very real, very one on one call with Song Mingi… Or was it one on one? Did his managers know about this call? Were they just standing around him listening to every word you and him say? Did they freak out when he sent the selfie to you? 

“So… I’m going to be here… Close to you… For another two days…” What was he hinting at? Ain’t no way he was hinting at what you thought he was… right? “If you want to meet up for lunch or dinner… or something…” Holy shit he was. “I know that this is crazy, I just needed to be sure…” 

“Sure of what?” You asked, and your heart felt like a freight train, speeding straight to your ribcage and you were sure it was going to shoot out in a matter of seconds. 

“I… I need to be sure that I do actually like you…” 

///

Two days wasn’t enough, but in a sense, it was for him. It felt like a dream when he finally met up with you, even though he had to practically disguise himself from the public, it felt nice to just be able to sit across from you for lunch and talk to you. It didn’t take long for him to be 100… No… 500% sure that you were the woman that he wanted to be with. Love worked in crazy ways, but he trusted it, because the odds of everything lining up so perfectly to get to this moment… It was fate, it had to be. 

The way your body froze for a second before melting against his when he so suddenly pressed his lips to yours. It was a spur of the moment thing, but it felt right, and he needed to kiss you now because he knew that the moment wouldn’t come again for a long time. It wasn’t supposed to lead to anything more, it wasn’t what he had planned, but before either of you could really think twice, you were falling back onto the hotel mattress and he was falling on top of you. 

In that moment, it was like his heart grew ten times bigger, and laying beside you, your hair carelessly clinging to your sweat covered forehead as you dozed peacefully beside him… Love wasn’t hard to find, the world was just waiting to bring the one you were supposed to love to you. That’s how he felt, and he believed it wholeheartedly. How could he not when he felt like he was falling deeper and deeper in love with you with every soft breath that escaped your lips. 

To live in that moment forever, both bodies hidden underneath wrinkled sheets, his feet hanging out from the end of the blanket, your arm draped lazily over his bare chest. Could you feel his heart beating beneath his skin? It seemed like now it was only beating for you. He saw his future flash before his eyes, mornings like this, every morning like this, just waking up beside you, being able to see your beautiful face as soon as he opened his eyes. What a wonderful future it would be to spend it with you. 

Falling in love was easy when it was with you, but it was hard… It was hard because he knew he couldn’t stay with you, at least not in person. He had to go back to Korea, he had to finish the rest of the tour. His heart felt like it was connected to yours entirely, and having to leave you behind was going to be painful… But it would work. He’d make it work, solely because he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. 

“I wish I could take you with me…” He whispered, and while he knew that that wish couldn’t be granted, not yet at least, he had been able to swindle security to pick you up just so that he could ride with you to the airport, so that he’d be able to see you one last time before he had to go. “I’ll message you… I’ll call you every day.” 

“What if you get bored?” You practically whimpered, and his heart cracked at the question. How could he ever get bored of you? He had spent months before the concert just thinking about you before he even knew where you lived or what you were truly like. He had been loyal to the singular thought of you. There was no way that he’d give up so easily when he finally had you and was able to call you his. 

“I’d never get bored, baby. I’ll wait, always… Until we can be together.” He reassured you, his hands cupping your cheeks gently as he wiped away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry. I’ll start crying and then I won’t be able to get out of the car because I won’t want to leave you…” He kissed your forehead, and then the tip of your nose before leaning back and giving you a smile that had his eyes disappearing momentarily. It was your favorite smile, you had told him multiple times, and it always seemed to cheer you up. 

“I’m sorry…” You sniffled, leaning forward and resting your head against his chest. Could you hear his heart now, could you hear how fast it was beating for you? “You should go now… I don’t want you to miss your flight.” The words sounded choked out, and he would have said more, but he knew that his words would come out the same way. 

For some people, two days wasn’t even enough to be acquaintances, but for him, two days was enough for him to feel like his heart belonged to you completely. You were his soulmate, his everything, without a doubt… He wouldn’t even look at another woman, he wouldn’t be able to look at anything without somehow finding a way to see you in whatever it was. He loved you with every ounce, every fiber of his being. 

“I’ll… I’ll try to make a stop here after the tour… I’ll visit you again… Before I go back to Korea… Okay?” He held out his pinky to lock with yours, twisting his hand and pressing his and your thumbs together. “Wait for me… Always wait for me, okay?” You nodded your head quickly, your nose scrunched up in the most adorable way as the tears continued to fall down your cheeks. With one last kiss, he was moving away, closer to the door. He hated goodbyes. “Get her home safe, okay… Please.” He told the driver who simply nodded, and then he was gone. 

The windows were tinted, and although he knew that you could see him constantly looking back at you through the windows, he couldn’t see you at all. The last image of you that he held in his mind was your tear stained cheeks and the expression of sadness as he let go of your finger and your hand dropped back down to your lap. He wished he could take you with him, but life just wouldn’t allow that… Not right now at least. 

///

For a good amount of time, you both kept in touch with each other frequently. Hell, you even had your first argument as soon as he got back to Korea because he pinky promised that he’d come visit you before he left, but he didn’t. It was quickly solved though, because one of the main things the two of you had going for the relationship was communication. He promised that when he had free time he would come visit you for a week, and you held onto that promise just as you had held onto the one from before. 

You would talk about how your day was, all the little things that happened, regardless of time difference or schedules, you both always found a way to keep in contact. For months your nights would end with video calls from him, and his nights would end with video calls from you. Everything was perfect, he truly felt that way. 

But soon the messages came in less often, it seemed like you were always busy doing something when he wanted to talk. He’d call you at night and you wouldn’t answer, always miraculously not having your phone with you or on when the call would come in. He didn’t understand it, and when he went to one of the other members to talk, he didn’t want to hear what they had to say either. 

There was no way that you were getting tired of him. You couldn’t be getting bored… Because he promised you that he wouldn’t get bored. It would be hypocritical for you to ask him if he’d get bored of you and then… then get bored of him. 

The thought stuck with him though, and while that would usually make most people give up, it just made him try harder. He messaged you as much as he could, he sent you constant pictures, he tried to call you whenever he knew you’d be on a lunch break or when you’d usually get off work. Your responses were always so dry though. Were you trying to get rid of him? Had he done something wrong? He was doing his best, it’s not like he enjoyed being so far away from you. It had only been 3 months… He was willing to wait forever to be with you… Why couldn't you do the same for him? 

“Hey baby, how did you sleep?” Nowadays he felt nervous when he texted you. He didn’t know whether he’d get a one word reply or no reply at all. It felt pathetic that the days he’d get the one word replies were his favorite, but you had been leaving him on read so often now that even the smallest response felt like a win to him. 

“I think we should talk…” A five word reply, and while the words didn’t sit right with him and they made his stomach do flips, it was nice. It was nice to think that you wanted to talk to him, regardless of what it was about. 

“Yeah sure! I’m down to talk, do you want to call? I haven’t seen you in a while. I miss you!” 

“No calling… It’ll just make this harder.” Make what harder? What were you going to say that could possibly be so hard? You weren’t… leaving him… were you? You couldn’t be… He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was devoted to you, he was loyal to you in every way. You weren’t just going to give up on him that easily… Were you? 

“Well, whatever it is that you have to say, I want you to know that I love you. I can’t wait to see you again!” Maybe that text would make you rethink whatever it was that you were about to send. If you knew that he loved you, although he did tell you every single day, maybe you’d realize that whatever you were planning on doing wasn’t the right thing to do. 

“Mingi… I can’t keep this up. I… found someone else…” 

“No you didn’t… No you didn’t!” He was already crying even though he wanted his mind to just forget that he had even read that text. “You love me! Don’t you love me?!” You had to love him… Why else would you have been so sad in the car when he went to the airport? “Is this because I couldn’t visit you after the tour was over? I’m sorry! I’ll come visit you! I’ll buy a plane ticket right now!” 

“It’s not that… I need someone that’s here with me. I don’t just want to keep repeating the same conversations every single day. The schedule differences and… Everything is stacked up against us… We weren’t going to work.” 

How could you say something like that? He was doing everything he possibly could to make it work. He was the one putting in all the effort. He was the one staying up later than he should just to be able to call you and message you when you were free. “No… You just didn’t want it to work… I still do!” His fingers moved like lightning across his screen, his eyes blurred with the tears that he was trying so hard to hold back. “You can’t decide something like that.. If you would have talked to me… We could have made it work.” 

Did you know that you were killing him, that you were breaking his heart? Would you take the words back if he told you? “I don’t want to argue with you… I just wanted you to know…” Were you as nonchalant as your texts made it seem you were? You really didn’t care… But maybe… Maybe if he gave you some time… A bit of time you’d come to realize that you did love him. He won’t message you… He’ll let it simmer… Maybe you’ll end up missing him and messaging him first. 

So he waited, and days turned into weeks, and he thought he’d be able to wait a month, but then you started posting on Instagram. You looked so happy in your pictures, you looked absolutely gorgeous, and the smile that you were wearing was the same one you had given him during those two days he got to be with you. He swiped through, and he was fine… Maybe not as fine as he wanted to be, but he was fine with seeing the pictures of just you. It brought back happier memories of when he was able to actually be with you. Then he got to the last picture, the guy that you were currently with, he assumed, his arms around you and his lips planted to your cheek. 

As if your words hadn’t been enough to have his heart breaking in two, the pictures felt like you were purposely throwing it in his face that he couldn’t be with you, that he couldn’t make you happy. He couldn’t stand seeing it, he was pissed, he was devastated, he wanted to lash out and he wanted to cry. Why were you doing this to him? What had he done? 

There wasn’t a single thought in his mind as he closed the instagram app and went to kakao, not even bothering to text you before his thumb slammed down on the call button. He didn’t care if you answered the first time, he’d just keep calling until you did, and that’s exactly what he had to do. It took 6 times for your exasperated breath to come through the speaker when you finally answered, but he wasn’t going to give you any time to complain. 

“Did you post it to piss me off or upset me? Because you did both! I guess you’re really winning now, aren’t you? You got to break up with a k-pop idol and break his heart! Good for you!” Right off the bat he was ranting, and maybe he sounded a little bit psychotic, maybe he sounded just slightly obsessed, but when you’re in love with someone, isn’t that how it should be? 

The sound of a man talking in the background had Mingis ears perking up. Were you with the guy still? Oh, how he wished the guy would get on the phone, he’d love to have a word with him. “You’re being ridiculous. I had a clear, logical reason to break up with you. I didn’t do it to hurt you or piss you off. I just wanted to be happy.” How could you sound so sad when you were the one that left him. He didn’t do this! You did! 

“What about my happiness?!” He screeched, running his hand through his hair. He had become aware of the rest of the guys all coming into the room to check on him, but he didn’t care enough to stop. You were going to listen to what he had to say, and those that decided to stick around would have to listen to it too. “You gave up on everything… You’re so selfish! And you weren’t even going to tell me!” 

“I was going to tell you!” You shouted back, and for some reason, it made him kind of excited to hear you fighting back. Something about hearing you get emotional over his words… It had butterflies swarming his stomach. “I didn’t even have time to fully think about how I was going to tell you, but you kept fucking messaging me and-” 

“Of course I kept messaging you! You were my girlfriend and I hadn’t heard from you! Don’t try to act like I’m the bad guy when you’re the one who was practically cheating on me!” While he was angry, he was also struggling to keep from laughing. It would probably sound a bit maniacal to start laughing right now though, and that’s the last thing he wanted. He just found it so cute, the way you were swearing and breathing so heavily, he could almost perfectly envision your face right now. 

You huffed loudly, and the sound was so beautiful to him. Maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t hung up yet… You were still making time out of your day that you were spending with your boyfriend to focus on him. “I don’t know why you’re being such an asshole right now… I didn’t do anything to you. I never cheated on you… We… What we had… It couldn’t even be considered dating… We were only together for two days…” 

Now he was laughing though, his head falling back as the sound built in his chest. “Yeah okay! Let’s just hope that your boyfriend doesn’t have to go out of town or leave the country for more than a week. You might replace him too!” He shot back and he could almost hear the eye roll from your end. “Maybe you’re not actually meant for relationships, you just want someone to physically dote upon you daily. Sorry I couldn’t fit your selfish needs into my already busy schedule.” 

A small sniffle and the shuffling of fabric, maybe you were wiping your tears or maybe your wonderful boyfriend had come over to wipe them for you. “You’re being unnecessarily mean to me right now…” You whispered, sniffling again before swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry that you’re hung up… And I’m sorry that my happiness is upsetting you. I’m not asking you to stick around though… I’m not forcing you to. You don’t have to stalk my life… You can unfollow me.” 

Of course he wasn’t going to do that. He couldn’t imagine not seeing you on his feed when he opened Instagram, or not having your messages to look back on when he missed you too much. “You’re happiness won’t last long… You’re too selfish to be truly happy with anyone. The first time you can’t get exactly what you want, you give up. Have fun with that.” 

“I-” He quickly hung up, and it was only then that it sank in what he had done… And a wide smile spread across his face. He’d be kicking his feet if they weren’t touching the floor over the edge of the bed. The call only lasted 20 minutes tops, but hearing your voice that long… It was amazing, it made his heart beat a mile a minute and that familiar warm and fuzzy feeling washed over him. 

“Dude… What the fuck?” Wooyoung finally spoke up, concern masking the man's features as he stared at Mingi on the bed. No one had ever heard him talk like that before, and truthfully, he looked and was acting like a complete psychopath right now. “Who was that? What’s going on right now?” 

“I found a way to talk to her…” Mingi said, his chest rising and falling heavily as he let himself drop back onto the bed. He was happy, the happiest he’s been in weeks. “She’ll keep talking if we argue… I just have to keep arguing with her… Then she’ll come back to me. She’ll realize how much she misses me… This’ll work. I know it will.”

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[boyfhee]

› HOW TO GET BACK WITH YOUR EX : five do's and don'ts

SYNOPSIS · You were all in for a new start; a new city, new apartment, new department and new colleagues— though, not under the best circumstances— you tried to make it through your early thirties while lost between whether to give up or go on, and then you meet Heeseung, who happens to be on the other end of the same street.

WC · 26.2K ( guys pls give this a chance )

GENRE · melodrama, angst, slice of life, romance, exes to ?

WARNINGS · lots of drinking, marriage talks, mentions of failed relationship and breakups; implications of sexual activity, very existential, mentions of suicidal thoughts, blood, lot's of tense changes ( since this transits between past and present a lot ) please read at your own discretion.

NOTE · i know i'm on hiatus but this was almost done and i had a sudden burst of motivation so here we are. my longest fic till date, i'm so proud of how this turned out. experimented a little with my writing style here, overall a fun experience. i hope you all enjoy this as much as i did, happy reading. ps the quote below is actually by john mark green, but let's assume it's written by hee for the sake of this fic. okay, good bye again, see you guys soon :›

playlist : tune in for better experience hehe

“ And if love may be madness, may I never find sanity again, ”

— Lee Heeseung, Red Wine

I.  Regret and Remorse

You don’t think you’ll ever become someone who’d look forward to the working experience that comes with job transfer. In fact, you don’t think you’d ever become someone who’d grow a liking to job transfer in the first place. 

Autumn of 2022 was supposed to be filled with vacation plans and a self-sobriety program in one of the many remote towns of Gangwon, away from the internet and daily complaints of your employer and family members. To put it simply— you’re tired of the life you’ve been living so far. Looking back, when you were a fresh graduate from one of the best universities of Incheon, life seemed to offer more opportunities than it does now. Your goals weren't any different from other people in the same age group as you, which majorly consisted of getting a job that pays well, maintaining financial security, getting into a good relationship, and perhaps visiting a few places on your travel list that you made in your first year of university. The idea of ‘ideal workplace’ leaves your mind the moment you step into the industry. Over time, you’ve realised that there’s no such thing as a job that fits to your liking and pays well, along with a hundred other benefits ranging from covering medical expenses to providing paid leaves. While that may apply to some, most of the crowd isn’t lucky enough to experience the luxuries of their dream job or workplace. Unfortunately, you happen to be just another person of that kind. 

You wake up, it’s the same old Monday morning— and no matter what day it is, it always feels like a Monday morning. You look through your same seven sets of office attires in your closet and pick one for the day; you go to the kitchen and find the same dish you had last night. You heat it up and eat the same for breakfast. Albeit, you find yourself at a cafe downstreet if you’re hoping for a change of scenery. You go to work, review the same old files, look at your same old colleagues and the same old boss who makes your blood boil. You aren’t the most sociable person and prefer to have lunch at the canteen, and coincidently, it’s the same old menu from four days ago. The day proceeds in the same old direction and you arrive at your apartment by six in the evening if your team leader doesn’t make you work overtime. You make dinner, sleep on the same old bed in the same old room with the same old feeling of dissatisfaction stuffing your stomach, and the same old cycle continues. 

Intellectually, there has been no progress— you've read scarcely half a dozen books, haven't made one new, exciting friend, haven't had a starling or unusual thought. Economically, things are no better— same old bills to pay, same old pay that hasn't been increased over years now. You get your paycheck and half of it goes into buying necessities. It's the same old job, same old routine of nine-to-five workdays, the cheese and ham salad for lunch, same dreary ride home. No change, nothing but routine, sameness, monotony— it's as if you're vegetating.

If you could go back in time and meet yourself when you were still a college freshman with high hopes and even higher aspirations, you would tell yourself to stop. Now that you’ve seen how the world works and have experienced the stagnancy of life, you wouldn’t want your young and carefree self to go through the pain of disappointment after encountering it yourself. You would instead tell yourself to switch fields since finance doesn’t seem to have a lot to offer. Instead, you would push your past self to go for liberal arts when you suddenly wanted to switch majors in the second year. Perhaps, in that case, your life would’ve been a tad bit better. 

Well, better than what it is now, at least, because currently, you’re sitting in the living room of your new apartment with a beer can in hand and tons of unpacked boxes around you. You’ve been thinking of unpacking for over an hour now, but every time your eyes land upon another beer, you’re back on the floor, chugging the drink down and regretting your life choices. Things would’ve been better if you had turned in your resignation instead of waiting till the last week of July for your pay; because now it’s August, and you’re in a new city with a new apartment, and the only thing you remember is the way to the nearest seven-eleven store from your apartment. You don’t want to think of this negatively, really, since you’ve been asking for a change, after all; and nothing is better than starting anew in a completely new location. However, you don’t want to work in the sales department when all you’ve ever worked about is finance. You don’t want to go through the pain of getting lost in the streets and chased by some dog, for you’re hitting thirty and you feel your bones cracking. You wanted a new start, however not in this field. A new start, for you, meant going on a vacation, detoxifying your mind off all the stress and tension, picking up a hobby, focusing on self-care— just anything that would help you change your views about life.   

Your silent remorseful session is interrupted by a knock on the door, and you’re certain you heard a doorbell, however you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol playing with your mind or whether someone is actually waiting at your doorstep. Forcing yourself to stand up, you stumble towards the door, the sudden decrease in blood pressure leaves a hint of dizziness as you step forward. Since you’ve just moved in, expecting anyone besides mails and landlord is pointless. While you remember having a friend living in the same city, you never told her your address so it’s unlikely for her to visit you either. You stand before the door, fixing your hair before moving down to the creases on your shirt as you unlock the door with a forced smile; and the time ceases to exist. 

“Hi,” Heeseung mumbles. 

You step aside to let him in, involuntarily— “Hi,” you breathe out before stressing your mind to come up with a reason for letting him inside. Could it be that you’re so lonely that now, you’re treating your ex as just someone you’ve been expecting to see? Maybe not, maybe it’s because you just moved in and despite the notes that you both ended on, it would be disrespectful to shut the door on someone who came with seemingly all good intentions. 

His steps are laced with hesitation. There’s a Château Margaux in his hands as you notice his fingers nervously tighten around the bottle before he turns around, albeit you avoid his gaze actively. “I heard someone moved in so I came to meet,” A pause, and then: “Didn’t know it was you.” 

He puts emphasis on the word as if it’s a bad thing. As if you’re an outsider trying to invade his peaceful life yet again, only to cause mayhem. However, the question is, had you known that Heeseung lives here, would you have moved in? Or, would you continue to live knowing Heeseung is your neighbour and that you would possibly see him for the rest of your life? You don’t know the answer to that one— not sure if you even want to find one, in fact. The last thing you need is to worry about bumping into an ex. You gesture at him to take a seat and to your surprise, he sits on the floor, exactly where you were having your drinking session before he came along. You grab the wine glasses from the kitchen before making your way back to the living room and sitting opposite to him. There’s a heavy tension in the air, one that is suffocating both of you, though you’re sure a major part of it is arising from you. After all, you let him inside as if he was an old friend, one that you were hoping to see, as if he isn’t your ex. 

Heeseung and you got together in your second year of university. You met him through a mutual friend on their birthday when they invited a few people from another department. You didn’t plan to go initially, you had presentations to make, but something inside of you prompted you to give in and had it not been for that day, you would’ve never come across Lee Heeseung in your life. The first time you met him at the bar, Heeseung seemed to be a heavy drinker— droopy eyes, messed up hair, a few things written on the palm of his hands— he didn’t even come across as someone who paid attention during lessons. However, much to your surprise, he excused himself early, sitting outside with a can of cold coffee he got from the vending machine in his hand while reading what seemed like economics notes compiled in pdf format. Perhaps, Heeseung knew he came off as a showoff when you found him chugging down his drink in an attempt to erase whatever effect alcohol could have on him. 

You sat next to him and all of a sudden, he started explaining how he doesn’t usually dip in the middle of gatherings with friends and step out to study. He simply happens to have a test the next day and his friends dragged him along. Simultaneously, you learnt that it was his first time drinking despite and he swore not to drink anything that wasn’t caffeine. It was nice, really; while Heeseung was busy worrying that you might dislike him for being such a show off, you were enjoying your time with him because in the end, you weren’t a big fan of drinking with your friends either. The two of you talked about wasted matters, complained about subjects and teachers, shared social media handles. It was fantastical, almost unreal, because you don’t remember the last time you clicked with someone so quickly. You didn’t have impressive social skills to initiate conversations, which consequently resulted in you being left out most of the time. It didn’t really matter since relationships and all were secondary at that time, for you had a set goal to work towards. You had always believed that people can make friends and fall in love anytime. However, life gives you just once chance to achieve your dreams. Disconnecting from the public didn't have any effect since you got your work done. While your friends wasted their nights at clubs, you spent it studying and completing assignments. You never felt the lack of friends and interactions eating you slowly. The loneliness didn’t hit you until you graduated with hands full of bills to pay and responsibilities to handle. 

After that night, you started seeing Heeseung more than usual. Despite being in different majors and completely different schedules, you saw him at the campus more often than you used to. It was as if he was always there, waiting for you to find him. Despite changing Twitter and Instagram handles, the two of you barely talked. There was no communication except interacting with each others’ posts, leaving a comment every now and then, tagging each other in stories. You would mutter a soft hello every time you’d bump into him and if fate allowed, you’d have a small conversation. There was no progress in your relationship until a few months after your first meeting, at one of the fests hosted by the Art Department. You had no one to visit with and Heeseung wasn’t interested until you came across him in the library, taking down notes of the lectures he had missed. He asked if you wanted to visit the fest, much to your surprise, and that was the first time you had hung out with Heeseung after knowing him for five months. 

“You seem excited for work,” It’s a question that leaves you confused until your eyes land upon the stacks of files and documents lying stray on the kitchen counter. The next thing you notice is that Heeseung’s voice has gotten a lot deeper, possessing all the necessary qualities of a voice a hiring manager would want to hear in interviews. 

“Do I?” You offer a rhetorical response, not knowing exactly what to say. For a brief second, you considered pouring yourself more drink and going off about your lethargic and unfruitful lifestyle. A chuckle falls off your lips as you stir the wine in its glass, feeling the weight shift from left to right before chugging the remaining liquid down. “I hate my job,”

You pour yourself another glass. Heeseung’s fingers flinch watching your hands reach for the bottle but he didn’t dare interrupt your actions. Another second passes in silence, another sip of wine hits your system. You feel fatigue fill your sinuses as you fight off sleep for another hit— another line of thoughts.  

You can go on for days, complaining about your job, despite knowing that looking down on your work and throwing shade on your boss isn’t going to get you anywhere in life. But at the end of the day, you have nothing else to talk about either. While your colleagues spent weekends drinking, going on dates, and watching movies, you worked your ass off to finish off a project and get a promotion; because promotions come with an increase in pay, and the thing you need the most at the moment is money. Even in school and universities, you used to spend your days and nights studying hard because in the end, the employers from big companies always look for candidates from the top universities, students who graduated with high honours and those who have a lot to offer to the market. Graduating from one of the best universities in Korea in your department should’ve helped you get a high paying job with several benefits. You didn’t lack knowledge, nor did you lack the brains to tackle the problems in finance. You graduated on top of your class so your educational qualifications weren’t below the bar either. If it comes down to experience, one can not expect a fresh graduate to have work experience. In the end, you’re left with the lack of information once again, not knowing why your life turned out this way when every step you took ensured success. 

“Then, why don’t you try doing something that you like?” Heeseung suggests, twirling the glass in his hand, unknowingly mirroring your actions. While he thinks he’s doing a good job at keeping the conversation going, Heeseung knows his advice isn’t worth a penny. Imagine telling a full-time employee to quit their job and do what they like! He thinks to himself, almost ready to take his words back, because he can’t even imagine himself doing the same thing for the sake of a better life. 

“You can’t depend on your likes and dislikes to make a living,” You chuckle yet again, voice laced with bitterness. Failure and disappointment were something you never had tasted until now. You remember the dissatisfaction you felt when your mother gave you sliced apples when you told her you were hungry. You refused to eat, but your mother said that when you’re starving, you don’t look for food that suits your taste. You just eat whatever you get; and thinking about it now, you think it applies to practical life as well. Survival in this world isn’t possible if you depend upon your preferences. Humans have the ability to adapt to various situations, and the key to adaptation is working under different circumstances, often that don’t suit your preferences. That is how you secure your position in the world. If things revolved around one’s likes and dislikes, you sure would’ve been a billionaire for you love to stay on your couch all day and dislike capsicums. 

“What about you?” You counter with the same question. “You look even more tired than how you were in university.” Now, your attention is on his dark circles and weary eyes. The Heeseung you remember from university was phenomenal, having an urge to do anything and everything. His eyes searched for opportunities, hands aching to work on something new. His never ending passion and a desire to know more made him an ideal figure for the juniors as well as someone who the seniors used to envy. However, the eyes of the Heeseung sitting in front of you are telling a whole nother story. They’re talking about the good times while his hands look tired from having a lot on his plate with no time for himself. 

“Work load,” Heeseung sighs, eyes fixed on his drink as he continues to twirl it around. Your gaze shifts to the corner of his lips, watching them curl into a faint smile. “Do you remember how we used to spent weekends hunting for part time—”

And then a pause. Your eyes avert to his’, meeting him in the line of contact; they resonate with just two emotions— regret and respect. You fail to decipher the meaning behind his gaze, you lost the ability to do so years ago. He presses his lips into a thin line, pressing his fingers against the glass in an attempt to suppress his emotions before looking away from you. The comforting silence suddenly weighs upon your shoulders with its hands around your neck, suffocating you to the point of breathlessness; and then you ask yourself— what am I doing? The clock strikes seven and it didn’t hit you how quickly the time flowed until everything dawned upon you. Once again, you’re left questioning your whats and whys about life, for after all, you didn’t expect to spend your evening drinking with your ex. You notice splatters of rain against your window pane as they blur the golden glow of the city scape behind. The rain falls louder, the room fills with the sound of clouds rumbling, you take another sip of wine— it takes you back to your days with Heeseung. 

You don’t know if it’s alcohol blurring your paths down the memory lane, but a part of job hunting with Heeseung also included applying for the same part-jobs and competing so see who gets hired. Although, both of you ended up receiving a polite rejection most of the time, it didn’t affect your relationship. Actually, you don’t think anything regarding job interviews or grades affected your relationship with him. It was a good, healthy race, one that allowed both of you to grow as individuals, for yourselves and for each other. There were days when you came home with the news about getting hired, only to know how his application was rejected or he was fired, and vice-versa. You both took your turns comforting each other— it didn’t feel like your life was any different from his. In fact, every second with Heeseung felt as if you both were living the same life. Watching him go through the exact same thing you went through a few weeks ago, or finding yourself in the same situation you found him merely a few nights ago; it was like watching just another version of yourself.  

Seconds catapult before you. Heeseung gets up and makes his way towards the door. No words are shared, the world is spinning too quickly, it gets harder and harder for you to retrace your steps to figure out how you ended up here. His name falls off your lips— it’s not louder than a soft whisper. You don’t know why you stopped him in his tracks. Is it intentional? Is it involuntary? Or is it because you were hoping for something else? You would never know, at least not now. Months expanded into years and the time when you dated Heeseung still feels like yesterday. It’s as if you woke up— there is his face next to you, the sunlight offering a soft golden glow to his eyes as they light up your whole words. His lips meet yours, a smile emerges under the tender kiss, Heeseung tells you he loves you and you couldn’t be happier. The day rolls by, your steps follow him everywhere he goes, breaths mingling into each other in secluded corners of streets, hidden from the world because it’s a love to be harboured in secrecy. Your hands intertwine with his. It’s two souls living as one, two hearts beating in synchrony. The night rolls by and you’re back in his arms, a little closer to heart, deeper into his mind. The moon sighs in admiration, night slips through his feather light touches as he traces every inch of your skin with love. The sun comes up— and suddenly you’re exes. You never had enough time to process his departure from your life, just the way you failed to process his impromptu arrival this evening. Heeseung is in front of you like the way he used to be. However, just like the first time, the universe agreed but the stars never aligned, and Heeseung is leaving once again as you fail to hold onto him one more time.

“Why don’t you resign if you don’t like your job?” Heeseung stops by his door, and you realise the words that leave his mouth are the same ones that people throw at you whenever they hear you complain about your work life.

“I was about to, but was transferred here. Thought I should give it a try before quitting.” While that doesn’t sound like the most convincing reason, it sure is a plausible one. You had been looking for a change— any change— and throwing away the chance to have one while it had been in your hand would be a bad decision, no matter how unfavourable it sounds at the moment.   

“Doesn’t that sound familiar? When I confessed, you said you weren’t sure about your feelings but would give it a try,” There’s a faint smile on his face, albeit you aren’t able to perceive the meaning behind his words. “I’m sure it’ll turn out better,” 

You take a step towards the door before shutting it completely. You don’t know why he said that, nor do you think you’ll ever get the chance to ask him. Perhaps you wouldn’t ask him willingly in the first place. You turn around, leaning against the door as a sigh escapes your lips. Heeseung has his own life, and so, his own views on different things. If he resents you, you’re in no position to try and change that for him. You don’t think you’re in a position to interfere with his life when you decided to walk out of it in the first place.

If regret was his part to play, then remorse was yours. 

II. Don’t be a ‘know it all’ 

Drinking with Heeseung feels like yesterday, when in fact, you haven’t seen him in four days. 

Life is busy, and it’s even busier for someone like Heeseung who works as a chartered accountant if your memories from last evening aren’t defying you. You can’t imagine yourself in that position, not like you want to in the first place. Excel sheets and tons of documents about taxes are all you could think of when you hear anything along the lines of accountancy, which is intolerable to you, given that you’ve majored in finance, ironically. 

A lot of things in your life are contradicting, actually. You don’t like to cook but cooking for close friends is something you’ve always loved. Examples follow, and at one point you realised that your life barely makes sense. Expectations from friends and relatives made you a try hard, so much that anything less than a perfect score made you feel suffocated. People had desires and interest in certain things, but you needed to be good at everything, and saying that it was for yourself would be a lie, because you had to set an example of an ideal person in front of your younger siblings. Your parents were strict to you and it didn’t feel unfair. You were ten when you saw your mother cry because of all the financial burden, but she had to be the perfect mother for her children, so you never saw her complain ever again. Fifteen year old you didn’t have a goal in mind but she knew that there’s a path ahead of her that leads her siblings on the right track, towards a better future, and so she took it— no aims and dreams of herself, just whatever she could’ve done for her brothers. It was hard at first but the formula to success was easy— hardwork and determination, and all you had to do was avoid distractions. Again, the reality didn’t hit you until you met Heeseung. 

It was as if you were both her two sides of the same coin. Persistence flowed in both of your veins, but every time you looked at him, you realised that he enjoyed everything he was doing. Heeseung enjoyed waking up at four, going out for a jog, attending classes, job hunting, staying up till two or simply not sleeping on some nights. Even on the darkest of the days and coldest of the nights, you would see Heeseung looking at you with a warm smile. He always managed to find a reason to smile, or make a situation humorous enough to make others smile as well. You don’t know how he did that, you never had the chance to ask, but you’re certain that even if he told you, you wouldn’t understand. Heeseung’s principles of living were beyond your comprehension— staying up late yet waking up right when dawn breaks, buying books but never really reading them, researching articles on topics that don’t concern your subjects even marginally— but that’s just his curiosity getting the best of him. 

Often, he’d find himself amidst a financial conflict like any other college student, but it never had an impact on his desires, and he used to say, ‘A sale wouldn’t wait for me to pay my bills so that I can buy my favourite shirt with the money left,’ as if his rent was going to pay itself. If someone asks about the biggest difference between him and you, it’s about desires. You suppress yours while Heeseung lives them like it’s the last time he could ever wish for something. You believe in the cause, while Heeseung did in curiosity, and that’s where it creates a line. Though lately, you’ve been hearing other things about him, new things, if you must say. 

The landlord told you about the Heeseung who’s quiet, who doesn’t leave his house until it’s about work, who eats the same menu for days until his system demands something new, who now has been prescribed actual specs because of his family history of hypermetropia. You find yourself smiling about it because back in university, Heeseung used to brag about his perfect vision, and you would say, ‘family health history is no joke. you take that shit down to your grave,’ and now when it has actually happened, you wonder what he has to say. Hearing stories about him made you realise that a lot of things changed, but Heeseung didn’t. Maybe, the situation demands him to live vegetatively, or maybe he’s saving up for a bigger plan. 

“They say you’re a loner,” You had said one time when you bumped into him on the lift. “That you never leave your apartment except for work,” 

Much to Heeseung’s surprise, a lot of things changed after he entered his thirties, the most prominent being his back pain, which may or may not have arisen from the lack of workout and constantly sitting in front of his desk for hours. He would smile at plants or sit by the balcony, watching the city being ever so lively and yet so monotonous. Afternoon naps became mandatory to continue proficiently for the rest of the day and before he realised, Heeseung became the old man of every highschool student’s imagination. Truthfully, he spent his first few months after graduation in his room, amidst sketching pencils and loose sheets. While other fresh graduates hunted for jobs or ways to fill their resume to fit the companies’ requirements, he spent his early months as an unemployed lad who graduated with top honours from one of the best universities in Korea. For the first time in life, he found himself looking at his ceiling and wondering, what’s next. Heeseung, who always had a plan for something despite seeming reckless, was about to step into adulthood with no plans to follow. 

“I guess I’ll be that,”

He was back in your apartment, same wine in his hand, same old complaints. It’s been quite a few weeks since you’ve moved in and Heeseung always finds himself in your living room at noons when he doesn’t sleep, making small talk about topics that usually stir a little interest. You haven’t had the time to go out with your colleagues and make new friends or explore the city, which gives you a perfect excuse to see Heeseung and call it socialising. Not to mention, you’ve been introducing him to your previous workmates as the ‘new friend’ you’ve made in the new place. 

“We both know you’re not that,” You continue, recalling all the reasons why Heeseung isn’t how people around describe him to be. 

“No one is the same after actually getting a life,” He replies while going through his emails, scrolling down with one hand before placing the wine glass by his side and proceeding to type something. “Look at yourself, for example,” 

You don’t know whether it’s a compliment or an insult. Perhaps the latter, albeit the chances of him noticing a good difference in you are low but never zero. Your eyes fix on his fingers, following them as he types something before clearing it all, and then typing all over again while mumbling the exact same words with an expression ranging from confusion to worry. You reconsider his words, he isn’t half wrong. 

Adulthood is climacteric. You think you’re an adult the moment you turn eighteen but in reality, you aren’t one until you’re in a position to make it through life profoundly, and ironically enough, you don’t think most people get a taste of adulthood until they hit their late twenties or enter their thirties. Your mind traces back to what he said— ‘yourself, for example,’ and suddenly, you become conscious of every single thing that has changed about you. You learnt piano but now your fingers don’t flow smoothly over the keys as they used to, given you haven’t played piano in years. You were a part of the science club in highschool and the student council president in your senior year. You wanted to go into aeronautics but seasons changed and one day, you looked in the mirror and saw the version of yourself who was about to graduate with honours in finance. Even after graduation you had a chance to switch fields but you didn’t, or rather, couldn’t. You were hired in the same year, which gave you even more reasons to continue since it would relieve your dad of the financial burden looming on his shoulders. Maybe, that’s what adulthood is supposed to do to you. You find yourself working in a field you have no interest or experience in and by the time you gain experience, you’re too old to grow an interest. 

Statistically, your school life was much better than college and onwards. You had, although little, but knowledge about all the subjects, a desire to know more, time to yield interest and a will to keep going on. To think, almost everyone in high school grows up under the same circumstances. They either have the opportunity or are given one to pursue what they want, taking it or not is up to them. For you, it was the former. You were given the chance to participate in the maths olympiad which you didn’t because of school exams. You were recommended to the best science institute in the country but you dropped out in just two months. Your music teacher offered you a chance to learn music professionally in Vienna but you never reached out to her on that again. You were given multiple chances to live how you wanted to but you simply discarded them and went with what proved to be the easiest way. 

That moment on a comparatively warm august afternoon, sitting next to him with wine, you went all the way back to all the instances and decisions that lead you to where you were right now. 

On the other hand, you shift your attention back to Heeseung, and even though you never got to know about his childhood or parents properly, you certainly knew that the way he experienced both of them was better than yours. Growing up as a single child gave him absolute control of things that he did and did not want. His decisions were not influenced by his parents, which could be classified as some sort of independence in regards to making his own choices from an early age, but neither did he have any siblings to set an example for. All his life, Heeseung has only lived for himself, and it reflects in his personality, if one tries hard enough to notice. While you had to give up one thing or other for your siblings, Heeseung got a taste of everything he wanted. He knows how it feels to not sleep all night but you never had the chance until much later because you were always thought to sleep on time and wake up early, whether or not you had anything to do. There may have been someone guiding him all along but most of the time, his experience gave him a clear insight and freedom to choose what he wants to do. 

To sum it up, you might be more qualified in terms of academics but Heeseung has more experience when it comes to diverse situations, and experience is all employers want these days in their employees. 

“Well, you still are the ideal candidate for marriage,” You chuckle, remembering what the lady told you a few days ago. You notice him marking a few emails before closing the app, picking the wine glass back up once again. It’s not a surprise to see someone like Heeseung being approached with several martial arrangements. He, despite being described as a loner by a few residents in the apartment, is still the guy with whom you would want to marry your daughter off. He works nine-to-five like any other family guy, is disciplined, comes from a good family and education background, and his looks work as cherry on top.  

“All they want is a guy with a stable job and salary,” He spat with a smile, chugging down the drink in his glass all at once. “That’s not who I want to be,” 

“Who do you want to be, Heeseung?” You ask above the silence lingering in the room, just loud enough to pique his interest. His phone screen lights up with a mail, but his eyes never leave your sight, not even for a second. 

People usually wouldn’t recommend talking to your ex, let alone sharing a deep, therapeutic session about life and self-development. If you say you’re starting as friends again, they would say it’s impossible because the bare minimum requirement to classify as a friend— the lack of romantic emotions— has already been violated. Even if you claim to be over Heeseung and treat him as just another one of your exes, you know there are unsaid feelings blooming in the air. You wouldn’t call Heeseung a friend, he never was one, actually. Heeseung was never there when you actually needed a friend but you never noticed his absence as your colleague, or as your boyfriend. Heeseung is terrible at being friends because he confessed to you the day he introduced you as ‘just a friend,’ to his friends. You wouldn’t consider being friends with your ex, yet you don’t think you could be anything more with him either. You started talking to him as a stranger but Heeseung has always been way too familiar to identity as a stranger. Too familiar for a stranger, too strange to be familiar, it’s another one of the things your life could be contradicting about. 

He looks at you, directing your question back to you as if you’re a better candidate to consult. ‘Who do I want to be?’ All your life, you’ve never done something that counts for yourself. Even your perfect sleeping schedule was meant to set an example for your brothers. Your achievements were never yours to begin with. You were good at piano, but that’s because your teacher taught you. You never composed a piece and simply played what has already been played. Even at work, you do what you’ve been told, and not what you want to. There’s no innovation, just flow of ideas from one level to the other, and it keeps being passed down to a level beyond which, it’s no longer fruitful. ‘Who do I want to be?’ You ask yourself over and over again, but it’s a question you don’t know how to approach. Rather, you would like to know, ‘Who am I right now?’

Just like that, October passes amidst wines and visits from Heeseung every other afternoon or evenings on weekends that weren’t swamped with work. For some reasons, workload increases as December approaches with his cold and calloused hands, which could be the reason why you’ve been seeing less of him lately. Occasionally, you would pour two glasses of wine and sit in the living room, but it would end up with you drinking yours in silence while his’ rests untouched. On nights you stay up till twelve or so, you could hear him unlock his doors in a hurry and shut it just as quickly. Maybe, that’s how a busy lifestyle is supposed to be. Consequently, you stopped waiting for him, coming in terms with reality once again. For a brief while, you considered flying back to your hometown and living with your family for a while, but the idea was dismissed as soon as the announcements about promotions emerged in your department. Once again, you found yourself working day and night with eyes set on no one but Heeseung to spend your upcoming Christmas with. 

Usually, you’re someone who prioritises family over work but a promotion is what you need the most at the moment. Time and patience, they say, but you have neither of those. You don’t have time to sit and rethink or start all over again, time to start from scratch, and patience was never one of your positive traits. At times, you would consider resigning and moving to a whole other country but it was too late to do that. You were no longer a stranger to society, you knew how things work and you had to make things work, with no time to try anything new. At thirty-two, no one wants to see you resign and fly to Maldives for a vacation, to live like you have no worries to worry about, not even yourself. See, that’s the pain of growing up. Parents would tell their children that they have their whole life to do what they like and just a few years to study and make something out of themselves, and it’s nothing but a lie. The truth is, you only have time when you’re young and, as you grow up, time starts slipping out of your hand. A kid is expected to be able to walk by the time they’re eighteen months old, or two years at most. Beyond that, it’s a problem and you have to consult a paediatrician, even if you don’t want to. A student is expected to graduate by the time they turn eighteen, people are expected to have a job by twenty-seven, you’re supposed to be in a relationship before thirty and married by thirty-five. As you grow old, the time to do something runs out and by the time you’re seventy or so, you realise you’re too old to do what you want. 

“I actually wanted to go back this time but, mom’s trying to convince me into getting married,” He said when you accidentally bumped into him this morning, signing off a delivery. Heeseung, in college, came off as someone who would be rather interested in marriages, someone who’d commit to a serious relationship in university and end up marrying them. You wanted to ask the reason but chose not to, maybe because you remind yourself that you’re exes and there are boundaries that should be maintained. 

“So, you just don’t want to get married,” It’s supposed to be a question, albeit it comes off as a statement. You lean against your doorframe, watching him carry his parcel inside and placing it next to his couch. Usually, you’d lend him a hand but today, you simply crossed your arms and waited for him to respond. 

“I don’t want to get married right now,” He replies between huffs. “I can barely take care of myself,” There’s a faint bit of fascination in his voice, a smile evident on his face that leaves you wondering if the slight humour was necessary or whether it’s supposed to be a facade for his rather unsatisfactory lifestyle. 

“Well, you are doing much better than me,” You counter with the same fascination, shifting your weight on both your feet equally in hopes to engage in a full fledged conversation instead of a small talk. “Besides, marriage is a two way street. Being the husband doesn’t mean you have to earn and be responsible for the whole family, or being the wife doesn’t mean she has to cook, there are no roles to play. Marriage is just, sharing what you do, good or bad, right or wrong, and helping each other become a better version of ourselves.” A string of silence follows, you notice his chest rise in an attempt to reply, but words never leave his mouth. You wonder if you said something wrong, but part of you knows you didn’t. Marriage is not as horrific and most of the people make it to be. We all need someone to hold onto, someone who you know will be there when the world isn’t— it’s similar to dating, except you’re committing to just one person, which is better than breaking up and living in vain for months before falling for someone and living the whole process all over again.  

“You seem to know a lot,” But Heeseung never replies and shuts the door, and it’s just you and the silence once again. 

You spend the next few weeks locked in your bedroom, in front of your laptop, making a presentation while living off noodles and beer. You sleep schedule has been in shambles, you’ve grown prominent dark circles, living the vicious cycle of working your ass off with little or no sleep to suffice for your constant workload. This is the most productive you’ve been in a while, especially after your transfer. You wouldn’t say your job pleases you and better, but being aware that this project could really end up with you getting a promotion and thus, a salary increase, is enough to keep you going. 

You were back where you had started a few years ago, reading reports and watching your laptop overheat from all the tabs and applications running at once. You knew what you were doing but everything felt so foreign. The excel sheets spread open with the pointer blinking for you to add an input but your fingers no longer dance above the keyboard like they used to in the first few months of your job. You consulted your seniors, talked to your team leader, watched conferences of qualified professors of your field, took notes, but it all led you to the same thing— deleting and rewriting the whole thing, or simply a blank document that would light up your room on  nights you chose not to sleep. You even considered talking to Heeseung at some point but after recalling the way he dismissed you the morning he was receiving the parcel, you choose not to. While most people wouldn’t mind taking ten minutes to offer a word of advice, you simply choose not to involve Heeseung with your personal issues. 

Taking half days from work using it as an excuse to work on your presentation gave you an opportunity to watch Heeseung leave and arrive at his apartment everyday. You’d sit on your balcony with beer, or tea, rarely, and your laptop on your lap, scrolling through emails and numerous files, and around seven every evening, you’d see him step out of the cab that drops him off right in front of the apartment. On mornings, you usually see him walk up to the intersection which you think is to compensate for the lack of exercise in his routine. Often, you find yourself peeking down from your railing to catch a glimpse of him as soon as the minute hand crosses seven twenty. When he doesn’t arrive by eight, you grab another can of beer and take rounds from your door to the balcony with a pacing that increases with every second that passes. One time, he came home at nine and you rushed to open your door before realising that you can’t tell him you’ve been waiting for him for the past two hours. Good thing is that you had your phone and continued on your way to the apartment garden, telling him that you have to make an important call. 

You met him as his ex and now you find yourself dropping everything and waiting for him as if he’s your first priority. That’s when you realised you needed to create a line, but for now, you don’t mind hanging out in the neighbourhood with Heeseung as his friend, according to how he now introduces you to people he knows. 

“You’re telling me you never went out and explored this place?” His mouth was agape, too shocked to say anything. There were days when your antics spilled out relentlessly, but living in a city for over almost four months and not knowing any of the routes besides the one to your workplace has to be the worst one of those. Even back in university, you preferred to spend weekends in your dorms instead of at some club or bar, like your friends did. It would be a stretch if Heeseung said you are a hopeless case because he was no better, but he wasn’t as bad either, in several ways. 

“Hm, well, work gave me a perfect excuse to not go out,” You say with your eyes glued to the data sheet on your phone and it reminds him of the day you saw him studying Economics outside the bar. These are a few of the similarities that Heeseung noticed between him and you, similarities that he likes to see but is too scared to address in words. “Besides, it would be a waste of time and fuel when you can get the exact same things at your doorsteps.” 

“Is that why you never went out in college either?” He asks finally after a long drawn silence, albeit it never hits you since you’ve been too busy going through the documents on your phone. “Hey,”

“Maybe, but that was more because of academic reasons,” A poke on your shoulder manages to draw a response out of you, but it doesn’t take Heeseung to realise that you’re no longer interested in his questions. “Should we get more beer?” 

Heeseung stares at you, wondering if you still want a response because you’re already picking up cans from the shelves and walking towards the counter for billing. Gradually, he realises that you don’t even remember asking him for his input because you’re simply paying the bills and thanking the woman for her service. Instead of a question, your words resonate more like a statement. As if, you are no longer asking for a third-party input, you don’t need it, you’re simply letting them know your next decision, disguising it as an action of. . . kindness? Soliticion? He doesn’t know.

Now that the sun is approaching the horizon, offering a purple hue to the ever so beautiful sky, Heeseung finally comes to terms with what he thinks about you. His mind traces back to the day you told him that he’s not who people make him out to be and for a brief second, he questions the credibility of your words. You claim to know him, but do you know that he has been living by the edge all this time, or that he has been fired thrice before getting a job in the bank he’s working right now, or that he tried to call you after you broke up with him, that he has been diagnosed with some sort of congenital heart condition? You didn’t lie when you said one’s family health history will follow them down to their grave. And just like you, he doesn’t know much about you either. Even though you’ve told him most of the things, ranging from your family to your current situation, Heeseung doesn’t know who you are. There’s an unfamiliar familiarity, or a familiar unfamiliarity, either works, he doesn’t have a better phrase to describe it. To think, while you consider yourself in a position to classify people’s thoughts on Heeseung as right or wrong, he doesn’t even consider himself in a position to pay for your food, and it’s probably because how you’ve been taking slow steps away from him, eyes still glued to your phone while you keep talking to him as if he’s right next to you, when actually, he’s twenty steps behind. The sun that has disappeared, leaving behind a sombre glow over the whole city, taught him something— that no matter how long you’ve known someone, you never know them enough. There are pieces of you that separate you from them, actions that tell you that no two people are mirrors for each other’s soul, for one’s body and mind knows how to differentiate between self and non self, and no one’s a ‘know it all,’ after all. 

“You’ve changed,” He mentions abruptly, and that’s when you finally look up in his direction, soaking in the awareness that Heeseung is no longer standing next to you. 

For some reason, the evening led you to a local restaurant and while you were busy on your phone again, Heeseung took his time reading the menu card. As he took his time ordering the drinks, your attention shifted to the view of busy streets on the other side of the glass window pane. You watched as the high schoolers had the time of their lives next to a vending machine, following the actions of the book store owner as he reopened his shop for the evening. You swear you heard Heeseung call out your name a couple of times, albeit it felt like a fever dream and you didn’t respond. 

Change, as he described you, you wonder what could’ve changed inside you. You don’t think there’s a lot. You still work like a maniac and refuse to go out. Your complaining nature never changed, but you still don’t voice your problems where you should. You still get terrible headaches and take a pill for every little inconvenience. In the end, you don’t think you’re very different from how you were when you met Heeseung. Except that your hard work barely pays off these days, you think you’re still the same, monotonic version of yourself that he fell in love with, the same you that dumped him on the day of graduation ceremony four years ago.

“You said I changed,” By the time your drinks had arrived, you were knee deep in the simulations that could’ve made Heeseung feel like you’ve changed. “In what aspects, if I may ask,” 

“Like, in general,” He replies with a nod. “I can’t point it out but something about you has changed— well, of course, your age aside,” Liar, he thinks. Heeseung, in fact, knows what has changed, but he doesn’t know how to put it in words. Well, I can’t say you’re no longer looking forward to my opinions on something. Because even though you met as neighbours, even though you’re in a restaurant with him, having a meal and sharing bits of your life’s stories with each other, even though Heeseung looks forward to seeing you everyday— he needs to remember that you started as exes. 

You manage to draw a long hum out of you, nodding cautiously as you take his every word into consideration. They don’t offer much insight about what he’s actually thinking, but again, you never know exactly what is going on inside someone’s head. However, you take your chance to try and get something out of him. “A good change or a bad change?” 

“That’s for you to figure out,” He says softly, tying his words with a long, silent pause that follows closely after. He shoots you a cheeky smile before digging in and you take your time examining his features under the yellow lights of the restaurant, noticing the way he cuts his steak, or the way his eyebrows perk up as soon as his phone rings. You watch him turn to his side as he picks up the call, putting hand on his mouth to minimise the sound, though it was loud enough for you to decipher it clearly. 

You read the slight changes in his expression and gradual curve of his lips swifting upwards. Amidst all, your phone rings as well, interrupting the decorum of the restaurant. You pick it up quickly when Heeseung sends you a displeasing look, though you believe it wasn’t intentional. You didn’t check the caller ID but the voice tells you that it’s your team leader and for some reason, you’re expecting something good. Call it a hunch or the change in scenery tonight but something tells you that there must be good news waiting for you in a secluded corner. While you try your best to focus on what is being informed to you from the other side of the line, you’re too busy analysing Heeseung’s grimace that now you’re mirroring the same smile that’s dancing on his face. He glances at you and his smile grows wider, making you do the same in return. You really hope your call isn’t about the presentation due tomorrow because if yes, then you’re going to mess up, for your attention is nowhere near your call. You’re so lost taking note of every single change in Heeseung’s expression that now, everything your team leader is telling you from the other side of the phone is a blur. It’s as if you’re in a crowded room and the only thing you’re able to perceive is him. You’re so busy indulging in his actions that the only thing you’re able to hear clearly from the phone is that you’ve been removed from the project.

‘I know that you’ve been working hard but the Chairman thinks you’re not skilled enough to collaborate with us on this project,’ You start paying attention to the conversation now, letting everything else around dissolve in the yellow glow of the restaurant. ‘To make sure your efforts aren’t wasted, you’re free to give us a brief view on what you had in mind and if we decide to include it, I’ll put in a word or two for you to the Chairman.’ 

‘Promotion,’ he mouths the word with a cheeky smile when your eyes focus back on him before getting back to his phone once again. You don’t put down your phone and pretend to be on a call to avoid hearing about his good news, or share the bad one from your side. You try to respond with the same smile but your lips feel like they’re frozen. No movements— you don’t know what to say, how to smile; numbness is all you could comprehend. For the first time in all the years that you’ve known him, a slight hint of envy intoxicates the air between you and Heeseung. You should be happy for him— you’ve always been. You’ve always been a part of his success despite falling to the rock bottom on your part. On days Heeseung called you to inform you about the awards he received in a particular competition, you’d invite him over for a celebratory drink even if you, yourself, lost terribly. It was a long drawn process of mutual development and self-care. What people thought of as a relationship written in the stars, was a selfish way of ensuring your well being in the most selfless ways ever. You stayed with Heeseung because he was the only person down to hang out with you in your apartment instead of forcing you to go out. You enjoyed his company because he motivated you to do better, to test your potential and go beyond your limits; and somewhere inside, you knew you were worth the same for Heeseung too. Watching him do well, isn’t that what you wanted? You should be happy for him— but you’re not.  

Heeseung excuses him outside the restaurant once his phone starts blowing up with texts and calls, giving you a chance to drop your facade and let the whole situation sink in. You lean back on your chair, phone on the table as its screen lights up with a message from your team leader, informing the team that you’ve decided to step down from the project— which is a lie but you assume it’s been told to save you for further embarrassment. You sniff, a chuckle falls off your lips, there’s no use of it at all, what’s done is done. On the other side of the glass pane, you could see Heeseung talking on his phone with a triumphant smile, making invincible patterns on the pavestone with the tip of his converses. It feels as if he’s shining against the busy streets behind him, as if he’s the centre of attention at the moment. It takes you exactly back to your graduation day— he was just as happy sharing the news about his graduation with his family. You were sitting inside a cafe and watched him talk for what felt like hours. Your heart was full of the same dissatisfaction, but now that you think about it, perhaps it was just jealousy back then too. While Heeseung was born smart, brimming with passion, you had to fight to get what you wanted. And despite being one of the brightest students in his class, Heeseung’s achievements never had a chance next to yours. You stood in the first three ranks of your school, first five all your college life, been recommended to prestigious schools, were given more opportunities, you were better than Heeseung in all the possible ways. 

You watch Heeseung come inside and pick up his fork, only to put it down and get back to typing once again. There’s a smile on his face and it tells you that you’re equally deserving of the happiness he’s experiencing, perhaps even more than him because life was way harder for you than anyone else you’ve known till date. For the first time in years, you think life is unfair to you because even after giving your best in everything, you’re met with nothing but failure and discontent. No matter how hard you try, your efforts never pay off and people start treating you like a pushover, thinking you would do everything they’d say because you need to put up a good image of yourself in your workplace. You walk hand in hand with failure and watch people succeed with their bare minimum effort. You look at him once again and think, why must it always be you who suffers the pain of failure and shame.

Why me, why not him? 

III. Remember why you broke up

By the time winters arrived and marked their peak, you barely got a view of your neighbour. A part of it could be because of his even busier work life that comes in with promotions. You took the weekend off, saying you have an annual health checkup scheduled at the City Hospital, even though it was a white lie and you never had an appointment with your physician to begin with. Those two days felt longer than usual with the four walls of your apartment making you feel suffocated in your own house. You paced around for hours on empty, rearranging things, cleaning rooms, cooking meals, moving furniture— just anything that would make you feel useful. Truthfully, being depressed over a promotion makes you feel even more stupid about yourself. It’s a part of life, something you involuntarily signed up for when you applied for your job and you can’t run away from it no matter how much you try. Being in the workforce comes with disappointment and pleasure, failures and success; it’s not your first time losing but it still feels like the burden of failure is occupying every little space in your room, making it harder and harder for you to breathe. 

You thought things would be better once you get back to work but everything starts caving in when you hear the team leader discuss details about the project. Initially, they would let you in their meeting, offering you a chance to share your ideas to see if they can cultivate anything better but it didn’t last long either. You started learning about their meetings after work from other colleagues and they started leaving you out of their discussions. On some days, you would sit by an empty table in the canteen and go back to every move you made, trying to track down the mistakes you could’ve made for them to push you away. You didn’t expect them to keep you updated on everything since you’re no longer on the project team, but it would’ve been better if they had simply said that you’re not needed anymore instead of watching you run around cluelessly before you caught a hint. Everything would’ve been a lot easier if you didn’t have to drag yourself around to survive and make a living. On days like these, you would imagine Heeseung in his cabin with a complacent smile, laughing with his friends and receiving compliments. You don’t know why but at one point in time, you started picturing yourself in his shoes while idly resting in your apartment. 

Occasionally, you would hear his footsteps outside your door and stop everything you’d be doing to hear him unlock his door and walk in. Having Heeseung with you was slightly better than living alone and drowning in your overbearing thoughts, but you decided to maintain your distance. Heeseung— apart from being your ex— was someone capable of doing something, anything. You’ve known Heeseung for years and the once carefree young adult found a purpose in life. He had goals to achieve, perhaps a to-do list to complete; you didn’t want to disturb his decorum with your lethargic lifestyle. On some days, he would knock on your door and you’d pretend to be asleep. He would stand for a minute longer and knock again, you would focus on the sound of him tapping his shoes until they faded behind his doors. You started with leaving him on seen and stopped reading his texts altogether. For a few days, it felt refreshing— as if he was never a part of your life to begin with— but the loneliness didn’t hit you until he stopped dropping by your door. And you realised— you were never able to get him out of your life properly. After you broke up, you moved away, blocking all means of contact, but met him at a reunion, and something inside of you prompted to get his number, and so you did. Even though you never talked, you found yourself staring at his number with your fingers hovering over his caller ID. 

It took you years, but you think you’re coming to terms with the truth, that you can never get Heeseung out of your life, and it’s not because you can’t, but instead it’s because you don’t want to. Life without Heeseung felt like a maze, but with him it’s as if you’ve found a way, and you would never admit but having him next to you was so much better than living alone with alcohol. 

When his absence overwhelmed you, you would try burying yourself into stuff as a distraction. It started with books, then painting, followed by poetry, before you would slump on your couch again with no motivation to do anything. Job wasn’t any better or busier. People had little expectations from you and you had even less. At times, you would pace in your living room, trying to complete a presentation or prepare an excel sheet. The deja vu caved in when you’d hear Heeseung’s cab stop by the apartment entrance, except you no longer ran to your balcony to catch a glimpse. You no longer sat on the balcony with tea, waiting for him to arrive. As time passed, you stopped paying attention to the sound of him unlocking his door. His footsteps dissolved in the heavy silence, too miscible for you to perceive. Occasionally, you’d find yourself thinking about him in the shower or before bed, but the thought of him never lasted long enough for it to dawn upon you. Before you knew it, Heeseung became just another neighbour you had, another resident living in the fourteen floored apartment.  

One evening, you bumped into a woman who was standing in front of Heeseung’s apartment. You didn’t see her face, for you were standing behind her with grocery bags, but you could picture what she looked like. Your eyes settled upon her chiffon shirt and the way it complimented figure, her stilettos, a handbag from Lana Marks, you couldn’t help but compare yourself to her. The thoughts about her knowing or being related to Heeseung didn’t cross your mind until a few minutes later. She, despite being someone you never met, was the exact image of how your younger self had imagined herself in future. 

“Excuse me, does Lee Heeseung live on this floor? I just want to confirm,” And her voice is just as captivating. You find yourself staring at her face longer than you should, losing the sense of reality because of all the questions hurdling inside your mind. 

Who even are you?

“He does, but he’s at work right now,” You reply with a bitter smile.

Who are you to him?

“I see,” It seems like she’s about to say something, and you’re not up for a small talk with a stranger, or Heeseung’s girlfriend, or his ex-girlfriend, your ex’s other ex girlfriend, whichever fits the scenario better. Actually, you’re not half against the idea of him dating someone else, not like your refusal will mean anything either. Truthfully, the idea never crossed your mind. You spent your days working days and nights to get the degree you’ve been aiming for, apply for jobs, fueling your hunger for having more and more. 

Maybe, that’s why college is supposed to include one of the most youthful years because after all, it is the only time when you’re free from most of the worries. You didn’t have stress about attending classes regularly or having proper notes like you did in highschool, nor did you have to worry about fitting into the workforce and numerous interviews. College, for you, was the time you could see yourself falling in love, and you did, and now that you stand in your marginally empty living room with your gaze reaching up to the farthest of the buildings touching the sky line, you realise that you don’t see yourself falling for someone the way you did for Heeseung. Perhaps that’s why your conscience refused to imagine him with someone else. Maybe because he had such an impact on you that you don’t see yourself with someone else, you sort of hoped that the time he spent with you had half, if not the same, impact on him as well. 

The evening passed by with you sitting in front of your laptop, scrolling through the document your boss sent you the same noon. The beer cans lie stray on the tiles, right next to you as you shiver under your beige cardigan. You’ve been wanting to close the balcony for a while now, except you don’t want to get up from the cushion that has warmed up with you sitting on it for two hours now, especially in this cold weather. You’re not busy, but you’ve been trying to indulge yourself into little work here and there. Even if it’s just moving your furniture from one corner to another, or going through a file that you’ve already reviewed the previous evening, anything that could make you feel less lonely is welcomed. 

These are the moments when you zone out involuntarily, thinking about Heeseung, or more precisely, his work life. You picture him in his cabin with a cup of coffee, skipping lunch because he has files stacking up on his desk. You imagine him amidst his colleagues at a local bar after working hours, having his drink of relief that hits his system with a wave of satisfaction after a long and busy day. You think about him a little too often for someone who’s trying to forget him. Usually, the thoughts are laced with traces of envy. Today, they’re drowning in something between regret and jealousy. You take a sip from the can in your hand, and suddenly, the image of Heeseung with the lady from earlier pops inside your mind. You’re not sure if they dated, or if they are dating, but you do know that they’re more than friends. Perhaps, it’s just a hunch, an intuition that’s terribly wrong and is driving you to insanity because of all the stuff you’re thinking about. You know you should stop but you can’t help but picture them together. 

Now, you’re thinking about their life together as a couple, the stuff they’d do, the things they’d say. You feel like an intruder peeping into their lifestyles, someone who’s uninvited in their story, a third person. You think about them doing everything you and Heeseung did together, but again, neither of you had a lot of things in your hands to begin with. You had your problems, he had his part-time job, a sorry excuse of a college major that both of you found interesting, along with each other’s shoulders to cry on when needed. While your stories started off as any other tale of love with paths decorated with flowers, it was far from how they portrayed love life in universities in the media. In reality, you barely have time for each other and if somehow you do, you know in the back of your head that you’re missing out on other things. College is, actually, just a bunch of things to do with limited time, and the time is running out of your hands while you sit on your bed and contemplate life decisions, crushing over some person from one of your classes, thinking about the bartender from that cafe downstreet, making up for everything you didn’t get to do during highschool. 

You and Heeseung didn’t have a lot of time to offer each other. Texts were shared, he’d face time with you every morning and you’d call him if you couldn’t see him after classes. Hugs shared in hallways reduced to apologies at your shared apartments, you both went from making out in club rooms to barely getting a glimpse of each other on weekdays. Initially, when he would get back after extra classes, you would be at the door, waiting with your arms open. After sometime, you’d be in your room, busy with your work while he would be lost in his own world of things to tend to. At first, Heeseung’s presence made you feel better about yourself but later on, it didn’t matter if he was there or not. It all felt the same, and the worst part, neither of you tried to work on it. Both you and Heeseung started to get used to the lack of each other. 

Your fingers tighten around the can, your mind goes back to thinking about the lady. Maybe, the lack of affinity in your relationship gave Heeseung a reason to give up and move on. Perhaps, she was everything to him that you couldn’t be, maybe she keeps standing at her doorstep to welcome him after he returns from work, that the two of them seek for each other instead of getting used to whatever has been offered by the circumstances. Could be that every kiss meant as a thank you for being in each other’s life instead of a sorry for not being able to see each other for days and more. Maybe, he is happy with her and you have no right to be jealous because in the end, you gave him every reason to try to forget you. 

Another shot of beer down your throat, another can added to the emptied stacks, your senses start fading into nothing when you hear distant clicking of doors, or perhaps it’s the hangover blanketing the sound for you. With the last bits of energy and soberness left in your system, you get up and open your door. 

“Didn’t expect you to remember me after all this time that you’ve been ignoring me,” Heeseung snaps at you playfully, or maybe, with a hidden sense of disappointment. You have the answer to his question if he asks why you suddenly opened the door when he didn’t even ring the doorbell, or why you’re here standing at your doorstep with nothing but a thin cardigan in this chilling weather. You’re just hoping he won't ask you for the reason you refused to see him until now, because you don’t have an answer to that. 

“Someone came, looking for you,” You say, and meanwhile, in the back of your head, you think of reasons why you actually ran to see him the moment he arrived from work. You don’t want to admit it’s because of the woman from earlier today, you don’t think she’s the reason behind the sudden changes in your mannerisms in the first place. “Some lady,”

A pause, you notice realisation seeping through the cracks of his skin. A second passes, and then another, his eyes tell you that he knows who it could be. “Right,” 

And, Heeseung steps inside your apartment as if it’s yours, and you step aside, letting him in, as if he has always belonged there, and it feels as if the walls have started to fade out the moment he takes a seat on the couch, taking a sip from the bear can you offer him with eyes ever so indulged in him, as if he has returned home after months. Heeseung exhales deeply before letting the words fall off his lips. “We dated for a while,” 

You expected that much, judging from her mannerism and the way she took your name. You had expected them to be in a relationship, or had pictured them as exes who are planning to get back together, a luxury you could never afford. Consequently, you bury those thoughts deep inside, taking a seat next to him, and for some reason, you feel breathless in your own house, on your own couch, with your own bear intoxicating your systems. It’s something Heeseung has always done to you; making you feel out of place. 

You want to yell at him. 

Looking at Heeseung, you don’t know what exactly made you fall for him in the first place. For example, say, you can claim that he dislikes drinking out late with friends and is the type to study even during gatherings based on just one incident. You can sit back and claim to be almost, if not just as, similar to him, pointing out the similarities while completely ignoring the differences, crossing them out of your list of reasons why. But considering everything now, Heeseung has always been different, and a better different. He received good grades even after spending empty hours at your apartment, watching you study. You complained about having day long picnics with him, saying the two of you could use that time more efficiently. As a result, there were nights you could cry yourself to sleep because you were unable to look at your relationship from his point of view. You would kiss him but it’s an apology for the upcoming week that you wouldn’t be able to see him, and you would cancel dates just to study another chapter beforehand. Every single second spent next to him reminded you of all the sacrifices he made for you and every thing you did to disregard his efforts. No, you weren’t a bad partner, his timing was wrong, but saying that would be just another excuse to soothe your aching heart. Looking at him now, it takes you back to all the days you’ve spent together in pain and pleasure, between yes and no’s, do’s and don’ts, a choice between leaving and staying for a little bit longer; the memories are bittersweet like your favourite wine, or rather, they resemble a cold autumn breeze that makes you shut your doors and windows, keeping you from enjoying your favourite season. Time spent with him was short, though nice, but thinking of him makes you blue. You said you wouldn’t see him again but you’re still here, next to him, stuck in the past, still young, still making mistakes, still growing, not knowing if you’ll ever learn. 

“So, how was work today?” You ask, partially because you don’t want to think about him and partially because of the slight curiosity you have regarding his work life, about how it feels to do something he likes, something that doesn’t feel like a chore. 

“You’re not going to ask why we broke up?” He questions back. 

“I figured that it’s your private matter,” 

“She said I didn’t love her,” He says it factually, as if it’s something you’re supposed to know. “That I used her to pass time while waiting for someone else,” His words are unclear, insinuating towards something that you dare not assume, but his eyes are telling you that it’s your fault. 

And for once after you broke up with you, you wonder if Heeseung resents you for calling off your relationship. The thought of him hating you has never crossed your mind, be it your pride or habits to avoid taking the blame. You don’t resent him, he can’t either. You loved each other, you got over it, you broke up, that’s life. That’s the flow of the universe, to meet people and leave him to meet someone else and to keep meeting a new person until you find the one you could stay with. If he thinks you’re the reason why he hasn’t been able to move on, then he’s no different from you, for the thought of him dating someone else has been bugging you ever since the two of you had a drink together on the night you moved in. 

To you, love was inordinate. I love you, Heeseung would say, and you’d ask, how much— he wouldn’t find the words to answer you then. You can go on, pretending none of this ever happened, draping sheets over all the memories about everything you and Heeseung were, in the back of your mind, and fall in love with him all over again, living as all the things you could’ve been. You’ve put too much faith in your love for him, knowing that even after spending the sunsets alone, your mornings will always commence in his arms. There’s fear lurking around, you chose to ignore it. So resentment, in your relationship, was a bliss neither of you could have. For every day that you stood him up, Heeseung paid you back multiple folds. Every moment spent in his arms struck you back with arguments that seemed to get bigger, and none of you were ready to work things out. The pain was mutual, you both hurt each other, then why does it seem like only you’re in the wrong? 

“Turns out, I never gave you a congratulatory gift for your promotion. I should be having a bottle of wine if I’m not wrong,” You get up from your couch; a subtle attempt to change the topic and drive the atmosphere in any other direction except the one it was flowing into. 

Silence takes over, you’re in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, he’s on the couch, the sound of water dripping down your kitchen sink hits your ears as you get conscious of the periodic sounds of the clock ticking. Maybe, wine is just an excuse to get away from Heeseung and everything that his presence takes you back to. It feels like university all over again, where you could spend hours in silence next to each other, though this time, you’re apart, but still, under the same roof. The sense of something being terribly wrong looms in the air, but none of you could bring yourselves to say something, because you both need a shoulder to lean on. There are heavy untold words housing the back of your mind, unasked questions that haunt Heeseung in his sleep, suppressed emotions both of you know couldn’t be expressed so easily this time ‘round. 

There’s no wine at your place, but you put water to boil while preparing hangover soups for both of you. His exhausted grimace tells you he needs it, and you need it even more than him. You’re taken back to the days when either of you would have a run down to the nearest convenience store to the university to get beer and then spend the night before the test amidst alcohol and sheer stress weighing your shoulders. You would refuse to waste your time instead of studying but one look at Heeseung and you’d lose your composure. Blurred words about how both of you should be studying for exams would escape your lips between sips from your cans and, Heeseung would simply laugh at your failed efforts to pull yourself together. On days, you think about the possibility of you and him and you could’ve been if time had allowed, wondering if you could’ve made things right by attending the reunion last year instead of making excuses to pass just because Heeseung was going to be there. You consider every single scenario where he and you could’ve been together if time had allowed, and if either of you had taken a step towards making things right, then again, a voice from the back of your mind would tell you to give up. 

You hear Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh. “I resigned,” 

“What?” And it feels like your lungs have collapsed. “I mean, you’ve been promoted then, why?” You don’t get it. Resigning from a job that had everything to offer seemed too incomprehensible in your knowledge. Had it been you— had it been anyone else— would think the same.

You’ve spent months in despair, searching for a purpose in the way you make money, a reason to keep going on between oceans of failure with pieces of your shattering will staying afloat. You’ve spent nights staying up, working on a presentation and giving it your everything to secure a better position in your department. Not a day has passed when you didn’t feel like you’ve lost the purpose of everything and yet, kept going with the flow of life to see if something good lies at the other end. And Heeseung would say, who cares about the standards of normal people, but recruiting managers don’t look for something out of the ordinary. They’re not looking for someone who would operate things based on whether it fits their sense of satisfaction, someone who would resign after getting a promotion when other employees struggle to get one. You would consider having a long talk about the choices he made and one he should’ve gone with, but instead, you sit in front of him on the cold winter tiles. 

“Promotions can make you feel good for a while, but they can’t satisfy you in the long run,” He says it easily, a little too carelessly for your comfort. “I just want to do something I like,” And once again, you come to the conclusion that these are the reasons why you and Heeseung wouldn’t have made it even if you had tried.

He’s too different. 

Heeseung has nothing to lose, never had to begin with. When you saw yourself for a whole month, doing everything in the same way, he was out enjoying his life. Now that you’ve managed to pull yourself together and learnt to handle your emotions, though not by a long shot, he shows up and tells you that he has resigned from his perfect job, or rather, a job that would’ve been perfect for you, at least. You would’ve been a better employee, you’re efficient, you don’t make decisions impulsively, have excellent qualifications, know how to separate work and private life, how to separate likes and dislikes from needs and necessities. You wouldn’t have resigned because if you did, you would’ve lost your only source of income, your last straw, something that has been keeping you from returning back to your stagnant lifestyle. You would’ve been a much better employee than Heeseung. 

You’ve seen him living like he has no worries. You’ve seen him switch clubs, change hobbies, drop subjects until he settled with something that satisfies him. Heeseung is about kissing his lovers between paintings at an art museum, promising forever, but he’s so quick to change his heart. Heeseung knows what’s important and what’s not a little too much, he knows what he needs and things that have no use for him anymore. Perhaps, it’s a sense of fearlessness that you acquire growing up the way he did, exquisitely happy and desperately carefree. You think it’s just a waste of time and resources for people like Heeseung because they don’t understand the value of certain things just because they’ve received it too easily. You wouldn’t disregard his efforts because you’ve seen him work hard to make ends in university. Even though things were a tad bit easier for him compared to you, you know it was the hardest time he had during university. You admire Heeseung for his consistency and passion, but you despise him for throwing away something you’ve seen people cry for; something that you’ve cried for, over a hundred times. While you may come to respect his choices when you wake up the next day, but right now, you wish that he was in your shoes, living life the way you’ve been living, suffering, struggling, suppressing. 

“People just don’t get by through society with their likes and dislikes,” There’s a touch of envy in your words, you hope it wouldn’t get past him. You grew up doing everything that would result in a secure future instead of something that satisfies you, to put it straight. The managers at interviews don’t look for candidates with most unique or extraordinary likes and hobbies, but rather they’re in search of someone with experience, ironically, and someone who can adapt to different circumstances without diminution of their efficiency. 

And you think, the childhood people have, or the way they grow up, what they go through and the circumstances they lived in, it really shapes their future selves. Growing up in a financially suboptimal family made you believe that money is everything, and people can try convincing you otherwise but their views wouldn’t alter the truth. Even if you wake up and try to think that money isn’t the most important thing, you would learn to believe otherwise the moment you open your empty refrigerator by the end of this month. You didn’t waste time having highschool romances and university love stories. You’ve had your fair share in having crushes and one night stands until you met Heeseung, and thinking about it now, a part of you knows it was a better decision to stay with him instead of hoping you had someone by your side on days when you didn’t feel like yourself. Perhaps, you did use him like a part of your conscience claims. Maybe at the end of day, away from all the concepts of love and lust, that’s what he was to you, a band aid that needed to be replaced before it infects the very wound it was healing. 

“You’re going to regret it,” It’s a breathy confession, a bitter truth. “Decisions made impulsively, they always leave heavy regrets,” You’ve been walking hand in hand with regrets. You’ve made decisions, many of which you thought would offer great results but instead, left with heavy regrets. You know better than giving up on the perfect job in search of something you’d enjoy doing, or walking in another direction knowing it’s the longer way home. Life has given you your fair share of events to think back to whenever you sit back, planning to do something new. Sometimes, you wonder why all of this only happens with you, and as an answer, you think that maybe, you’re the only one who would take life for its lessons and losses and still keep on going as if nothing ever happened. 

“Then, did you ever regret breaking up with me?” You see, Heeseung was never successful in comprehending the whole logic behind love. He was told it’s warm, but he knows love is the loneliest place a person could ever find themself in; he read that it’s kind, but Heeseung has spent nights spilling tears on his pillow, all because of love. It’s self contradicting; love is supposed to make you feel happy, but it stings. It gets under his skin, makes him unsteady, makes him question everything he has ever believed about love. He didn’t see it coming. Truthfully, Heeseung didn’t see you coming into his life. You were a boon and a blessing, the one who made him feel reckless and out of control; the one he is infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to. Ironically enough, you’re not the one who tucks him in bed, but instead the reason why he cannot sleep at night. So, Heeseung needs to know if his presence made you feel the same way, or if he was really just another passerby in your melancholy. 

His question is the words you’ve been avoiding to notice ever since you called off your relationship with him. It has been hiding in the back of your head, popping up every once in a while when your heart aches for love and when your arms feel emptier than the streets after midnight. And amidst your heavy heart and cold tiles, your hands find their way to his. A faint apology falls off his lips, whispered in your ears. The moon watches you slip his shirt off his shoulders, your lips tracing along his neck while his hands find solace in your curves as if you’re the home they’ve been yearning for; an old spark ignites again, a beginning of something tragic. 

As the night dwells further into the darkness, the two of you are pulled back into the old cycle of healing and hurting, the give and take where both of you would be standing with your hands stained with losses by the time it ends. Your steps are heading towards actions you couldn’t reverse, and the very reason you broke up flashes in front of your eyes, though faded enough to have you ignore it. Guilt trickles through your fingertips, seeping through the cracks of his skin, his eyes gleam of remorse, and the moment your lips meet his’, fate decides to play into the hands of your history once again. 

IV. One step at a time

It didn’t feel right watching Heeseung being so busy even after resigning from his job. You always see him on his laptop, typing or reading something. Morning to evening, from noon to night, you’d see the lights in his apartment switched on, faint rumblings of furniture and numerous phone calls filtering through his walls and entering yours. He was busy, he was planning something huge, and you didn’t like the sound of it. 

You’ve come to a point in life where you can finally accept your pettiness and slash or, your jealousy. Maybe, it’s one of the few emotions you’ve been feeling over the past week, and now, you finally know the reason why. Waking up this morning, you imagined yourself in his shoes once again— without a job, without a secure financial flow, without a purpose or strong sense on what to do next, just as someone in the workforce who’s contributing to nothing. The furthest your imagination took you was to your terrace, you don’t know how you would live through a life like that. 

Some things about Heeseung have never made sense to you. While he might come off as someone who has plans prior to everything, you always see him as someone who lives his life based on a hit and trial concept. He does one thing, and if it doesn’t fit to his liking, he switches to other, and then other, and then he has a never ending cycle in his hands. You weren’t there when he got a job but you know how Heeseung looks when he is passionate about something. The evidence lies all the way back to university, or during the few months that you’ve witnessed him go to work before quitting abruptly. You’ve spent evenings trying to deduce a conclusion as to why he resigned, and every possibility leads you to the answer that it was a decision made in spur of the moment. A part of you thought about asking him for a reason if he ever had one, but you ultimately realised that a person like him doesn’t need a reason to choose something that he likes; no one does, except you. People don’t put a second thought when it comes to choosing what they like and what they don’t. They date their crushes, eat their favourite food, watch their favourite movies, attend concerts of their favourite artists; favourite, it’s a word that tends to solve most of the trivial problems that arise throughout one’s life. Perhaps, that’s another reason why you decided not to ask Heeseung about the night from two days ago. Even though you made the move, the most he can say about complying and giving in to your acts would be because he wanted to do so; no reason, no plans, nothing. 

Maybe, it was your fault. You could’ve taken one step at a time, starting from dinner, then something else— you don’t know what people do to get back with their exes. You’ve never done that, would have never if it wasn’t for Heeseung, because something about him has you gravitating in his direction. That’s why, you sit on his couch, the TV remote in your hands as a random show plays on the screen. Your eyes are rather focused on Heeseung, who sits by the kitchen counter, typing something on his laptop for the past hour. He has been busy with that lately. You pictured unemployment as lying on your bed all day, or pacing around your apartment uselessly, having the days feel longer and watching the time pass because you have nothing better to do. But, Heeseung is way too busy for someone who has recently resigned, he’s even busier than how he used to be. You asked him about it once, and he said it’s something he has been wanting to do for a while now. Heeseung never gave you the context, but you know he is putting his time into writing drafts for his book. 

Occasionally, you anticipate a small talk with him, but with no signs of Heeseung being interested in anything except his drafts, your eyes instead run all over his living room, taking a note of every single detail that exhibits his taste in interior decor that has changed over time. The wine coloured curtains are a little too vibrant to fit his choices of decors and furniture. You remember him planning out the living room layouts with you back in university when you were still together, when life was beautiful and you were impossibly happy. 

You find it amusing how quickly things change. It’s been years but if you’re being honest, it feels like just yesterday, you were accepted in the university you’ve been aiming for, as if just yesterday, you earned the scholarship, and just yesterday, you had met Heeseung. Your heart still picks up a pace at the sight of him.You’ve spent months thinking about the time you spent with him, regretting every move that led you to the decision to break up with him. You’ve had your fingers just centimetres above his caller ID, just impulses away from making a call, seconds away from asking him to get together back again, heartbeats away from giving into your desires. It started with your falling for him first, and you kept falling harder and harder until you realised that you were at the bottom of the pit and it was getting hard to breathe. You spent years trying to make your way up, step by step, and when you were finally by the edge, he came back and pushed you back to where you had started. You would say you hate him but a part of you wants to believe this could lead to something better than how it was last time, because things have started to feel a lot like love, and you’d like to take a chance with your broken fate yet again. 

“Heeseung,” You call once, voice low and quiet like a whisper, one that dissolves between the sound of television. You expect him to hear, but your words fly by his ears as if they’re of little to no importance. “Heeseung,” You say again, this time a little louder, eyes fixed in his direction, watching the seconds pass and waiting for a reply. For a second, you wonder if he’s pretending to not hear you deliberately, but you push yourself to sit up straight, hoping he’d hear you this time. “Hee,” 

And he whips his head in your direction. It was for a brief second, but you could see a hint of surprise in his eyes. You would’ve said you have accomplished something if Heeseung had spared you a little more attention, but his eyes go back to his laptop and before you know it, his fingers start dancing above the keys yet again. 

“What are we?” You ask, half hopeful, half defeated. You don’t know where the question comes from, or why you are even asking it. Your heart isn’t hoping for a happily ever after romance, your mind isn’t looking for a redemption arc. You’re not hoping for a good response, you’ve learnt to keep your expectations low after everything that has unfolded in the past. You’re not hoping, you tell yourself, but your soul knows otherwise. 

A second passes, then another, your mind starts coming up with answers to your own questions. What could you be? To strangers, you’re neighbours; to your friends, you’re exes; to yourselves, it’s a broad question. You could tell your mind that you’re in a friends-with-benefit relationship that has a terrible lack of communication and get away with it, but your heart knows it was supposed to be something wrong. 

“You tell me,” A soft laugh falls off his lips, it makes him sound like he’s lost as well, just like you. You take it as a good enough response but Heeseung stands up from his chair, making way towards his bedroom as if you aren’t even there, as if your question holds no meaning. You would’ve assumed his response meant that even if you both are without labels at the moment, you could be something in the future. Maybe, your actions from two nights ago would’ve lead to something good if he was less busier, but for now, all they do is guide you to the answer to your own question: 

A temporary fix. 

That’s what you both are. It’s exactly how it was back in university, a sense of mutualism with no sense of responsibilities. Things were obligatory, dates were barely a show to the world for your sorry excuse of a relationship. It started off like a fairytale, as if you both were supposed to meet, meant to fall in love, made for each other. In the first few weeks or even months, having Heeseung next to you felt like a blessing. A luxury to come home to someone, to have someone you can vent to about that one professor who kept dismissing your essays, someone who you can talk about your endless project and seminar ideas and they would reply with the same enthusiasm, someone who could make you feel like you’re seeing the world just by staying within the four walls of your messy apartment. Dating Heeseung had you believing in all the romance tropes you’ve ever come across, so much that you forgot that you’ve been living in a painful reality. 

You tried not to ponder over it so much. You went back to work once the weekends passed, back to your old excel sheets and same old job. Occasionally, you would wish he stayed next to you until you finished your work just like he did back while you were still dating, but you knew it was too much to even hope for. You would say, you’re going crazy. Perhaps, you shouldn’t think so much about the one-night-stand sort of thing you had with your ex, your neighbour. You both are adults, one without a job and other without the will to do the job, both brimming with unsaid feelings, tied to loose ends, holding onto unasked questions for answers, troubled by old memories and the future that was about to come. He deserved an explanation, you had an excuse to share. Whatever happened, was bound to happen. 

Sometimes, you wonder if Heeseung thinks about it as much as you do. Memories from that night haunt your mind like spirits, making it hard for you to focus on anything and everything else, yearning to feel his touch one last time. There are evenings when you’d come home in hopes of having a conversation about what would happen to the two of you in near future, but then you’d see his eyes glued to his laptop screen the moment you enter his apartment and you’d realise that it has only been you all along. Watching Heeseung do well even after giving up his job no longer induces anger or jealousy. Instead, a sense of inferiority floods inside of you whenever your eyes fall upon his figure leaning over his laptop, typing relentlessly with a content smile on his face. And the reason, once again, lies in the concepts of too many similarities and even more differences. 

Months ago, when you were still in Incheon, still bound to your old apartment and old lifestyle, there was a point when you had seen yourself at your lowest. You used to drag yourself to work, force yourself to smile, push yourself to make it through everyday. You struggled to do the bare minimum that was necessary to survive. You wouldn’t say your situation was any better than Heeseung only because you still have a job while he doesn’t, because inside the four walls of his apartment, he’s doing better than any other unemployed person out there. He’s doing better than you while you still had your job, while you still had money in your hands to spend on useless things. You spent months pulling yourself through just to make sure you don’t lose your job, and Heeseung resigns from his’ a little too easily. You feared every second that passed because you didn’t know what the future would hold, and if you still had a future, but Heeseung is sitting on his couch and writing as if he has nothing to worry about. You saw yourself for months, doing the same thing, in the same way, and Heeseung is living every minute as if it offers him something amusing. 

Life was always easier for Heeseung, and you wonder if this is the reason why you’re standing by his door with your nails digging into the palm of your hands. Maybe, if this is why you don’t try to strike a conversation and instead, walk out of the door as if you accidentally walked into the wrong apartment and now that you’ve realised your mistake, you would make sure you don’t repeat it and end up in the same place ever again. 

The next few days pass by rather slowly. 

You’ve been trying to keep yourself busy with work. Though it’s a bit hard to focus when everything else is plaguing your mind, things have started to get into place once again. Additionally, you’ve also been busy trying to grow a liking for your job after getting an earful from your boss. The truth is, you don’t exactly hate your work life. Materialistically, it’s perfect— a good environment, impressive benefits, a considerably loaded paycheck— it’s wonderful, but intellectually, you feel you’re at the same place where you started from. You haven’t gotten a new project in a while ( was kicked off the one that kept you motivated ) not a single new thing about work except reviewing documents and passing them on for signatures. One could tell you to quit and look for something you prefer to do, but resigning and pursuing something that you like, unlike Heeseung, is a luxury you never had on your side. 

Before you realised, it had already been a week since what happened between you and Heeseung. You wanted to talk about it, hoped to, but he’s harder to see than the most. You could see him through your kitchen that faces his bedroom. You would see his shadow roaming behind the curtains, a notebook in his hand, or a laptop, rarely. Heeseung likes to scribble his thoughts on a paper before settling with one, it’s something you’ve noticed back in the university when he spent nights working on his projects while you sat still at the corner of your bed. You can still watch him on and on for hours, sitting on his couch and imagining him walking up and down his living room while working on his drafts. 

Watching Heeseung is one thing you will never get tired of. It’s a little discovery on its own. Every step he takes and every move he makes tells you something new, something you hadn’t known before. You remember sitting next to him in libraries late at night and watching him study. It was supposed to be a simple observation, perhaps an intention to catch onto his tricks and tips to study, and suddenly you see him biting his nails as if his pores are dripping with nervousness. It made you feel better knowing that someone like him has his moments where he’s nervous, even scared, maybe more. Watching Heeseung was something you had on your daily checklist because those moments reminded you that he’s not all strange, that there are similarities, and that he also falls weak, just like you. Watching him felt like watching yourself, as if he’s more you than you are. It felt like taking a look into the mirror and realising that whatever souls are made of, yours and his are the same. 

But mirrors for each other's soul has a cost: by the time they part from each other, the individuals have become indistinguishable. Before their merger, they each yearned for the other; as they part, they part from self. Maybe, that’s why leaving him felt like leaving pieces of yourself and meeting him again felt like you could breathe once again. 

You can hate him for all the reasons why he is better than you and for all justifications you could offer to prove otherwise. You can spend hours explaining why life has been unfair to both of you, yet still he gets to have the better end while you always fall back to the start even after all the times you’ve tried. You can go out and tell the world your tales of misery and braveness, how you didn’t give up even after life dragged you beyond what could possibly be the worst, and you can complain your heart out about how Heeseung, despite having everything you could ever ask for, gave up all because it didn’t fit to his liking. You can call him a coward in front of eight billion people and would still find yourself in front of his doorsteps at the end of the day, just like now, because after all, he’s the only person who would welcome you with open arms. 

“Have you ever tried painting?” You ask while taking a look at all the loose sheets lying around on the centre table in his living room. It comes off a surprise when you find that what he has been scribbling behind his beige curtains were sketches of characters of his novel, rough and messy, some drawn seemingly in love while others had patches of pain in their eyes. 

“As a kid, yeah. My parents made me try almost everything out there,” He replies on his way from the kitchen with two coffee mugs in his hands; and amusingly enough, it would be the first time you’d be having coffee with him ever since you moved, because every other conversation was accompanied with alcohol or wine. “But paint brushes aren’t my forte, really,” You take one of the cups, nodding in the process. Your childhood wasn’t any different, despite the financial shortcomings. You remember taking extracurricular classes at least four days a week, all for different fields, art being one of those. You wouldn’t say your painting skills are worth exhibiting, but they are better than his. Maybe, that’s why you briefly consider pointing out his mistakes, telling him that he could try fixing the body proportions to make the figures look more presentable but again, you refrain yourself from doing so. 

Instead, you take your time observing Heeseung, again. 

A sip of coffee hits your system, you sit on the couch, watching him arrange the sheets into one place. Earlier, it seemed as if Heeseung didn’t care about you seeing his living room in such a mess, as if it’s something you’re allowed to see because it’s you. You notice the way he’s holding onto the coffee mug, you’ve always loved how his fingers wrap around its perimeter completely. It’s one of the things about him that you find attractive. He sits on the opposite end of the couch and you’re sent thinking about the last time you both sat like this, having coffee over silent smiles. One second, you’re thinking about all the good times you’ve had and the next, your mind drifts back into the thoughts from a few nights ago. 

The coffee started tasting bitter or maybe, it’s just your thoughts. From thinking about his hands in yours to the smile that used to warm up your evening, nothing seems to cross your mind except the way you felt when his lips captured yours for the first time in years; nothing compares to that, not even close. You thought it’d be fine this time ‘round, people don’t make the same mistakes over and over again. Meeting Heeseung again was like falling back into the hole you’ve been climbing up, but hitting the bottom never hurt. You thought things would work out just fine because you’ve grown up. You’ve learnt things, you know what you did wrong back then and you know exactly what to do to make things right. All these things, they ran an imaginary conversation inside your head where everything went back to normal. There was a point where you couldn’t distinguish between daydreams and reality, and the truth didn’t hit you until you were sitting on the floor of your shower, hyperventilating his name into your hands; and you asked yourself— is it so bad for people to just use one another?  

Because friends with benefits is also a relationship based on convenience, you don’t get why loving someone the same way is deemed toxic or simply unacceptable. If things had worked that way, you wouldn’t have ever ended up on this turn of life. You and Heeseung would kiss but won’t be in love, sleep next to each other but won’t be a couple, share your secrets but won’t be friends. He would be someone you would’ve seeked on evenings you couldn’t stop crying and you would be someone he could hold onto on days that made him feel like he couldn’t go further. Not lovers, but not friends, just something, someone you could use and not feel guilty about, someone who could walk away a hundred times without hurting you, someone you didn’t feel obliged to focus on. You both could’ve been someone who didn’t feel like a chore to each other. If people could just use each other, perhaps, you and Heeseung would have lasted longer. 

Commitments are hard. Loving is hard, because a day comes where you run out of all the reasons to love. You become selfish, starting thinking about the give and receive, the shortfalls, the absence. The part of your lover that you fell for becomes the very reason why you fall out of love. Instead of appreciating the times spent together, you start complaining about all the minutes that went in waste, all the days they weren’t by your side. You take a step away from the commitment you swore upon and then one day, you start walking away before you even realise. So, loving is hard, and it’s even harder to fall in love again when you’ve walked away once and you’re afraid to do it again, not because you don’t want to hurt the person you love, but because you want to save yourself from hurting all over again.

“How are you doing?” You ask above the silence, voice no louder than a whisper. You’re hoping for a conversation none other than about what happened that night. It’s not because you want him to take responsibility because you’re just as responsible for it, perhaps more. You simply hate how you’re the only one still hung over it, you hate how he can go on with his life without worrying about the things he did that have shifted the ground beneath you. 

“Good,” He replies, just as quietly. A pause follows, you feel his eyes on your while yours are still fixed on the mug, fingertips running circles along its rim. “Great,” And, you find another reason for why you’ve been acting lately. The worst part about walking away isn’t the realisation that you have to leave everything that once made you happy, but instead, it’s the hope that follows you everywhere you go. You hope that they’ll run after you, that they’ll stop you and tell you not to leave, that they’ll beg you to say and tell you they need you, but they never do, Heeseung never did. 

You look at him after much consideration, there’s a certain look of inevitability in his eyes. It’s not welcoming but it’s not pushing you away either. It’s like he’s telling you there would be a moment when you would look at him in a certain way, and you both would cross the threshold from friendship into something so much more. Perhaps, it’s just the mood of time or your imagination that has you seeing things, but you feel a certain innuendo in his gaze and the way it traces every patch of your skin, from your eyes to down your hands, threatening to transverse further down below. It could be an innocent play of eyes, a harmless action that doesn’t mean anything more than. . . something. 

It’s how you begin, your mouth against his, and his fingers tracing along the back of your neck. It feels euphoric and equally sinful, the way his lips move in synchrony with yours, fitting like puzzle pieces. Heeseung tugs you closer by your waist, a faint gasp escaping your mouth that dissolves immediately into your breaths mingling together. He’s pushing you back into the couch, your mind plays all the moments with him like a short film, it feels like a warning sign, but you’re far in too deep to pay attention to anything else except him. Every swivel of his head sends you down a spiral of pain and pleasure, you’re somewhere between pushing away and pulling in. You’re so lost, it feels like you’re on an island and Heeseung is the water. If you’re drawing, he’s the oxygen, if you’re falling, he’s gravity— his presence in your life is contradictory. He’s the reason you’re hurting, and the very reason you like every second of it. Heeseung pulls back, a gaze full of love, he whispers a sweet confession. 

“Date me,” he says. You don’t remember responding, and the next time those words flood back inside your mind is two days after the incident, when you’re laying on your living room floor with beer once again. 

You’re counting now, the amount of times you’ve ended up on the floor with beer, thinking about all your past actions and regretting. It kind of sounds funny to think about it, to think an adult can’t pull their life together and resorts to alcohol even at minute inconveniences. His words haunt your mind day and night, in sleep and when you’re awake, in happiness and in sorrow. It seems like you’re back to stage one, where all he ever did was look at you and all you ever could do was think about him for as long as possible. Focusing on work doesn’t help. You tried shifting your furniture from one corner to the other, avoided Heeseung for three days before he was at your door with the electricity bill that was accidentally given to him. Consequently, your alcohol intake has increased again, not that it ever went down, but frequent meetings at work gave you a reason to stay sober. As for now, you’ve been spending each day the same way, vegetatively, ever so stagnant, like water in an infected pond that is born to numerous parasitic diseases. Your refrigerator is getting emptier day by day, you feel too exhausted to buy groceries. Days transform into weeks, Heeseung leaves for Busan for a week. He didn’t tell you. You overheard it from the ladies in the elevator. Now, there’s a closed door in front of you everytime you open the door to your house. A door with letters and envelopes piling up, a plant that is drying up day by day because looking at it, you assume Heeseung had forgotten about it. When the energy to cook leaves your body, you resort to ordering takeouts. Missed calls from work are the only thing preventing your apartment from drowning in silence. When the last of your hope dies, you resign from work. 

You think you’re going crazy, because you get back to the cycles of standing in the balcony around the time Heeseung used to return from work. A part of you knows he doesn’t work anymore, heck, he isn’t even in the city, but you spend most of your day thinking about him. At times, you wonder the point of all this. You wake up, check your phone for any texts from Heeseung or simply anyone. Fifteen minutes pass and you drag yourself out of the bed, eat ramyeon, watch television, sit on the balcony with bear, watch the people come and go, eat ramyeon for lunch again, sleep, ramyeon for dinner— you needed someone else, something that would break you out of this vicious cycle. There are days when your own skin suffocates you, when the image in the mirror doesn’t feel like yourself but rather, a faceless person. You’ve spent hours sitting in the shower and letting the water prune your fingers. You let your tears wet the bed sheets. For some reason, it feels like you’re coming to terms with reality. 

As days pass by without Heeseung, you’re starting to realise your feelings, able to sort out things you want and don’t. You thought your dream was to live an average, normal life. Looking at it now, you don’t think it’s what you wanted, maybe you didn’t have a choice to begin with. You studied in a prestigious university, you had scholarships to support your tuition fee, you had a job that paid you well enough, you had everything any other person your age would desire, you had those things because you wanted to set an example. You lived for your siblings, you lived for your parents, you lived for the expectations that came with your intelligence and skills. Sitting in the bathtub as your mind revisits every decision you’ve ever made in life, not one was for yourself. Or maybe there was— loving Heeseung. 

Perhaps, at the end of the day, you wanted someone who would love you, someone who would watch you be selfish and slowly clap at the back of the theatre because you’re doing a good job, you’re choosing yourself above everyone else. Heeseung was the person, it’s the only thing you’re so sure about in your life. He was like a saviour in the apocalypse. He’d tell you to blather about your insecure mind that kept nagging you regarding all the things you couldn't do and, he’d explicate how exquisitely it told you lies that you believed. You thought you could reciprocate, but every moment spent next to him reminded you of things he was and things you could never be. You were scared he’d notice your insecurities, the voices tell you that you’re only worth abandoning. You guessed it wouldn’t be hard, you just had to hide your feelings, and years later, your decisions prove you wrong once again. You’re struggling to breathe under your skin, your heart desires for him, you’re falling in deep again, and you’re about to pack your bags. That’s how your life has always been, to avoid getting hurt, you hurt the people you love. 

Maybe, you need him after all. Heeseung was one thing you were certain of in your life— still is— but you had your pride ruling your life, and he had stars to reach. 

At some point during Heeseung’s trip, you pick up a paint brush. It’s a sudden decision, an impulsive move. You wake up one morning and your senses crave the smell of oil paints and brushes. You never had a talent for painting, not by a long shot. You attended classes back in middle school but had to drop out because of your family’s financial conditions. You think you’re trying to copy Heeseung. You both have unsaid words in the back of your mind, both need to convey their feelings one way or another. Heeseung picked a pen, you chose a paintbrush. It’s supposed to be therapeutic, you have heard about art therapy. There is no set subject, you draw whatever comes to your mind. Your first piece exhibits your kitchen. There are unwashed dishes, you used yellow to add a light glow except, you used a little too much of the colour. The second one, an apple from your fruit basket. Third, your ceiling— white, blank, empty, you’ve named it ‘My head’s ceiling,’ as lame as it sounds. Your fourth is the cat that roams the neighbourhood on most nights. You don’t know about anatomy, but you sure do see slight improvements with colouring. Your fifth and the last one is Heeseung from the night you met him for the first time after moving in, and then he finally arrives from his trip. 

“Did you miss me?” He asks you when you show up at his doors in a thin cardigan and a bottle of wine in your hands. Weather was never a problem, any place with Heeseung tends to feel warmer. You walk inside, eyes on the loose sheets lying all over his kitchen counter. You wonder how he will react after hearing about your resignation. 

“I missed drinking with you,” You may or may not have a motive behind your words, maybe you wanted to feel him against you once again, maybe the wine ends up being an excuse again, but the night doesn’t flow in that direction. You tell him about your resignation, he finds it funny after the ‘pep-talk’ you gave him when he resigned. You tell him about your newly found interest in art, he tells you to practise since you have plenty of time. His responses are short and specific, not a word more or less from what’s necessary. His eyes make their way to you once in a few minutes and the rest of the time, they’re on his laptop screen. There are so many things you want to talk about, you have so much to share, so much to do. You had plans for tonight, but all he offers you is a short talk. It’s as if you’re not important anymore, as if you’re the third person between him and his drafts, and he’s doing you a favour by not sending you back to your apartment. He’s being distant, it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Half of it is because of his drafts, the other half, his interest. Heeseung is passionate about what he does. Whatever he does, he sacrifices all of him, it’s about catching his interest. You pour yourself another glass, Heeseung asks you a few questions about his work in progress. You realise he’s losing interest in you, little by little. 

You sort of expected yourself to be better after his return, it turns out to be false. You’re still on your living room floor, hands and clothes having stains of reds and blues. You painted the wine bottle from last night. You haven’t got any sleep, the image of Heeseung pops up everytime you close your eyes. It feels like the world is giving you what you had given him long ago— all the pain and insufferable longing, all the reasons that made him believe that he deserved to be abandoned. When you got busy with studies and a job in your last year of university, ignoring Heeseung seemed to be the only way out of your hectic schedules. You had exams, a job to cater too, money was already a problem so you couldn’t afford giving him gifts on all the days they have made for couples. Heeseung used to show up with something new every single day and no matter how pretty it was, a part of you despised him because it made you feel inferior. Leaving Heeseung wasn’t an option, it was your only choice. He was the only thing you had that you could throw away. 

“Can we talk?” Heeseung shows up at your door on a Thursday morning with words that brushed away any traces of sleep in your eyes. It’s eleven, you woke up barely fifteen minutes ago, and you find him at your door; hands empty, no traces of his laptop or notepad. You think you’ve finally become one of his priorities, after all. 

“About what?” 

“Us,” He responded quickly, he came prepared. “I want to talk about us,” And there it is, confrontation knocking at your door. You’ve been waiting for this moment for a while now, for weeks and more, perhaps, and now that it’s in front of you, waiting for you to hold it’s hand and guide it inside, your body freezes under his gaze. It’s a game of push and pull, like a pendulum oscillating between two extremes. You want him to tell someone about you. The thought of you vanishing completely from his world is unbearable. You can’t stand the thought of being a silent tomb in his heart, you don’t want to be an inscription on the first page of his book. You want him to tell the world about you and promise you a forever, but a part of your heart gently reminds you of the impossibility of the kind of love you’re wishing for. It’s not Heeseung who you can’t trust, rather, it’s yourself. You’re scared of your demons. When things get happier, you get anxious because you might ruin it once again. 

“Do you want to come in for coffee?” And here you are again on your couch with mugs and words you’re busy burying inside. The situation feels oddly familiar, your eyes travel to him. There’s a look of dejection in his eyes. 

You join a wellness club a week after, and Heeseung is the first person to know about it. You saw the advertisement when you went to buy fruits two days ago. It didn’t interest you until you walked back home and found yourself in front of your mirror, thinking of what you were and what you’ve become. Your dark circles have grown prominent, your joints ache from the lack of movement. Walks with Heeseung after dinner are the only reason why you wake up everyday and eat your meals. You have your paint brush and wine, you have every reason to not live any longer. If it wasn't for him, you don’t think you would have been breathing at all. You look up the fitness club on Naver, take your time reading through the programmes they’re offering and the pricing. Maybe, this is the change you needed in your life. Not Heeseung, not money, not a job, but some time for yourself. A place to think about yourself and how you are doing, a place to be selfish without being ashamed of it. 

The first few days were nice, you met new people, saw new faces. One new thing in your life, apart from painting. The sessions mainly focus on meditations, you were never the most patient person in the crowd. Some sort of yoga follows before a break, and that is usually the worst part. You would sit on the wooden floor and watch others talk, their laughter and murmurs filling in the hall. It makes you feel like how you used to be in the university— in silence, by yourself. You had conversations with your mind, with your heart. You looked around and saw eyes looking at you. Every second felt like they were talking about you when in reality, the thought of you never crossed their mind. You were no one, despite being popular, it’s ironic, and you hate how the exact same thing started happening in the club. It would have hardly taken you five sessions to give up and get back to your routine of painting, drinking, and sleeping. When Heeseung asked, you excused it as boredom and unsatisfactory. Actually, you have started feeling better ever since Heeseung returned from his impromptu trip. With him next to you most of the day, you feel functional and sane. You feel like you could think again, you decide to get back to cooking your own food instead of ordering take outs or simply sleeping after drinking. You didn’t see the need to attend the wellness classes anymore until a few days before, when they texted about a trip in the groupchat. You tell Heeseung about it, he locks himself in his apartment for the following days to come. 

You don’t know how or why he made that decision. You spend hours everyday thinking about all the probable reasons, only to end up with nothing. After three days of consideration, you land onto the conclusion that you take too much of his time. It makes sense, of course, he’s busy, he’s working, he has a job, even if it’s basically sitting into his room all day and typing. You, on the other hand, don’t have anything. You have your issues that you project onto people, you have problems you try to ignore, you have indecisiveness and can’t decide what you actually want. You spend too much of your time thinking about if onlys and begging God for last chances. Days pass by without him, alcohol becomes your only solace. The voices in your head remind you of the consequences of your actions. They scream about the mistakes you make, laugh at your actions. They recite tales of how you tend to ruin the person you like, how you’re a parasite and Heeseung is a host, and how you feed on his blood to keep yourself alive. You wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, you feel like wanting to scratch off your skin. At times, you want to run to Heeseung and profess your love to him, tell him how much you want him, how much you need him. You have always been aware of your feelings, of what you wanted, but deep down, you’re afraid that you might be a worthless person after all. And now, you are the worthless person who is trapped in their own empty life. 

You want to try living your life as a different person. A life where you’re not you, and all the things you have now aren’t yours, good or bad. An alternate reality where Heeseung isn’t someone you meet at your lowest, where he isn’t just a use and throw to you. You want to go to a place where nobody knows you and live as if you have no history at all, you want to know how it feels to live without having people expect something from you. A life where running away isn’t the only thing you’re good at. You haven’t talked to Heeseung in five days and you're already on the way to his apartment from the supermarket after getting some fruits. Perhaps, you just want to live a life where his presence and absence wouldn’t mean so much to you, where it wouldn’t cost you your life and pride. 

When Heeseung opens his door and invites you inside without asking any questions, you realise he has been expecting you anyway. Heeseung gets back to writing, you’re left alone in silence yet again. You envy Heeseung. As a writer, he has an inclination to step inside someone else’s shoes, to get under their skin and see the world through their eyes. It’s a blessing, you think, to be able to live as a thousand different characters and experience a thousand different emotions, to be able to express them so beautifully in words and actions. If you were him, you’d live as a different person everyday, in a skin that makes you feel comfortable. You could be a pianist pretending to be nervous, or a ballerina with her broken shoes. When Heeseung doesn’t say anything for the next few minutes, you pick up an apple from the grocery bag in your hand and enter his kitchen to grab a peeler. It’s an old tradition between you two, to say things with actions instead of words, to hug each other when sad, to offer fruits when you’re in pain, to sit in silence when you are sorry. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” You say abruptly, letting words fall off your lips without control. Heeseung’s hands stop in the midst of typing, hovering over his laptop. When the sound of keys stops, the air starts feeling emptier and heavier than ever, sending a wave of shiver down your spine. 

“What?” A soft gasp, a voice of disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me any time sooner?” 

“Well, I am telling you now,” 

“The night before you’re leaving,” 

“I would’ve told you sooner if you could take a break from whatever you’re writing,” A pause. You look at him, his shifts ghosts your sight and falls upon the apple in your hand. You’re looking at the document displaying on the screen, your eyes fall back on the fruit in your hand just a few seconds later. You wish for Heeseung to be more open with you, to yearn for you the way you do for him, to want so much that every moment without you feels like death’s hands around his throat. Maybe, he already does, maybe he wants to but couldn’t because the fear of you leaving yet again is eating him from inside. You have given him all the reasons to doubt himself and you as well, every reason to think thrice before knocking your door. Writing is an escape, you know he has his own problems, after all, how many times did someone pick and pen or and paint brush when they couldn’t pull the trigger? 

“When will you return?” He asks, a little unsure of the question, if he should even ask you. 

“One month,” And you respond, peeling the apples between your words. “It’s a paid trip from the wellness club I joined, some sort of detox, so I don’t think we’d get to talk much either,” Your thoughts aren’t sane, they’re all over the place, everywhere. It’s hard to walk, harder to crawl, it feels like you’re standing in a deep pit, the way out is in front of you but you don’t know how to reach up there. Calling it a detox sounds stupid, but you know you need it, it’s for you, for him, and for whatever the two of you are becoming. 

“It’s alright,” Liar. “It’s just one month,” 

Before you know it, you’re in his arms and you’re hugging him back. Perhaps, you missed the embrace, the warmth of loving and being loved. “Just one month,”

“I love you,” He smiles against your ear, arms pulling you closer. You’re stepping into happiness for the first time in months, you’re reminded of its previous betrayal. And you realise that the person you’ve been yearning for is the one you should step away from. 

V. Should you get back with your ex?

It’s been five years since Heeseung has heard from you. He has been waiting, but he doesn’t have time to sit back in his apartment while putting everything aside. He has been keeping himself busy with drafts and publishing, lost amidst plots and characters he created, living in a whole another universe as an escape from reality. It all makes him sound crazy, or rather, like someone who has been through severe grief. But, Heeseung has been busy thinking about all the new genres he can try and every single thing that he can include in his writing because no one can stop him, and his imagination means no bounds. After all, Lee Heeseung, after five years of waiting and working, has finally published his most awaited work. 

Heeseung isn’t used to distances. They drift people apart, as they once did the two of you, but he didn’t mind anything when it came to you. You were going to return within a month either way, and thus, he found solace in texts and calls while waiting for the days to pass. You’d send him pictures of the city while he’d forward you an image file of another blank document. For days, you both texted restlessly, between meetings, during meals, while taking a walk, before and after bed, it was as if you had returned all the way back to how your life was in university. On days you couldn’t make time to call him due to your busy schedule, he would leave voice notes regarding every single thing he has been up to. It was a small step towards forgetting the past since neither of you tried to talk about it. It was more of an attempt at ignoring your past mistakes and moving on, taking a mental note to not repeat them again. While the need to talk things out bugged both of you every night, you were just fine with whatever the two of you had at the moment. 

Things had started off good, but the two of you started hearing less of each other. His busy schedule or your lack of internet could be blamed. You really needed some time to yourself and it seemed to be the perfect excuse to not text him first, or even back. Days morphed into weeks, weeks into months, Heeseung was finished with the first draft for his next book. That was for you but Heeseung, again, isn’t used to distances. You would see his texts on the top of your notification bar, holding onto a fragile ray of hope that he’ll hear from you anytime soon. You’d see his missed calls, voice notes, emails, direct messages on social media, even a letter he sent once. You could feel guilt pool inside of you, realising that once again, you’re being the one to draw a line, to create distance and while you promised that they wouldn’t affect you both this time ‘round, you’re the very reason why they keep on increasing. But, Heeseung is good at these things, hoping, holding, waiting; he’s good at sad things. Perhaps, it’s just another thing he has come to learn because of you. 

When you didn’t contact him for another two months, he started reaching out to your friends and family. He called your friends and his friends, his family, even. It was like he was in a forest with a lantern, looking for treasure, and the flame went out. 

He used to think he could go a day without your presence. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back. Then, a day arrived when he found himself struggling to feel your presence but the next was harder. He knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and it wasn’t going to be okay for a very long time. 

Losing you wasn’t an occasion or an event. It didn’t happen once and instead, happened over and over again. Heeseung loses you every time he picks up your favourite coffee mug, whenever that one song plays on the radio, when he unconsciously scrolls all the down to the bottom of his messaging app, coming across your contact. He loses you every time he thinks of kissing you, holding you, or wanting you. He goes to bed and loses you, when he wishes he could tell you about his day and everything that he has planned for the future; and in the morning, when he wakes up and reaches for the empty space across the sheets— Heeseung begins to lose you all over again. 

“What inspired you to write this book?” And now, he’s sitting at his book launch event, a faint smile on his face, a good of pride gleaming in his eyes. Through the years, Heeseung has released short stories and poems; poems that he wrote while looking out of his window at every flight that flies by, hoping you’d arrive one day, while sitting outside next to your apartment late at night, while drinking your favourite wine knowing you would’ve had the whole bottle to yourself if you were to join him. Heeseung would sit on the cold tiles of his living room and let his mind paint a picture of you. The image of you in his mind is blurry, but he feels every emotion you gave him to this day. 

“A friend, my neighbour,” His smile grows wider, a little more filled with sorrow, yearing oozing through the cracks of his skin. “My ex-girlfriend,” Calling you his ex doesn’t seem right since the two of you never broke up. You need to be in a relationship to break up, and Heeseung and you weren’t anything. 

His first poetry work, ‘Red Wine,’ was written in the first few weeks after you stopped contacting him. Those were some of Heeseung’s worst days of life, days he felt like doing nothing except lying down and staying still until his systems gave up due to the lack of movement. He has written about you drinking red wine on the floor just like you do, and on the other side it’s him, cold and bleeding. You’re looking at him— he pictures you as such, and you continue to sip on your wine, watching him bleed. Is there a possibility of you and I? Heeseung wouldn’t know, for you enjoyed your red wine while his blood pooled around your legs, and you wouldn’t flinch because you wouldn’t know if it’s blood or wine unless you taste it, and you wouldn’t know if he’s hurting for you’re too busy dwelling in your own mind.   

“Did you get back with her? Is that why the book is named ‘How to get back with your ex’?” Heeseung thinks the question is rhetoric. Anyone can tell if he and you are together or not after reading the book. Few seconds pass in silence, it’s not the question he’s running from, but the answer that lies around. Heeseung doesn’t know if there was ever a point when you considered taking him back into your life with labels, just as how it used to be back in university. You waited for him at odd hours but never admitted to missing him. He confessed, you never gave an answer, but you kissed him as if he was a part of you that went missing centuries ago. Your touch bled with yearning, love rolled down your cheeks, and you never accepted your feelings. You’re not his lover, he likes to keep you as his favourite incomplete fish. 

“No, actually, we’re not in touch anymore,” Heeseung isn’t familiar with loss. He doesn't have a lot to offer, not at all. Lee Heeseung, in fact, doesn't have anything to give or lose, his hands are empty. He has a mediocre job that he resigned from over a mediocre reason, and a mediocre life, a mediocre apartment with some mediocre flowers in the mediocre vase a friend gave him as a congratulatory gift on graduation day. He has the same mediocre thoughts and books, tropes and genres, no new thought in a while; Heeseung, actually, has more to accept than to lose. 

To think, he has always been on the receiving end of life. 

The first month was the hardest. He started hearing less of you, and then none. Losing you, it was like experiencing withdrawal symptoms. Heeseung would pace around, hours on empty, looking obsessively at his phone to catch a hint of you, just one text, one missed call, anything. His editor continued to call him, even show up at his place, telling him to write, to do his job, but words don’t flow when you’re not around, and the thought of you pains his heart inexplicably. He knows he’s always talking about second chances, how there is always a second shot at things that slipped out of your hands. The day you cut off all contact with him, Heeseung realised that it was probably his last chance with you. He cried the first time the news of Bus M4107 crash on its way back to Incheon. He ran back to his apartment, avoiding getting hit by a lorry only by a few minutes, vision getting blurry as his mind started coming up with all the worst scenarios possible. Heeseung went through all his contacts, looking for names familiar to the two of you and begged them to try to get in touch with you. He spent hours looking at his phone, his eyes were like a searchlight. How they looked at the sky with such longing, how they always turned towards the door hoping you’d walk in any moment. Heeseung doesn’t care if you’re with him, he doesn’t mind seeing you across the street while pretending to be strangers. He doesn’t mind not being able to hold you. Even after all these years, even when he’s Korea’s bestselling author, even when he has everything he has ever dreamt for, his life has voids that remind him of you, but it’s fine. Things were fine, you left him one Sunday morning with his cup half empty. It was supposed to be just a month, but five years later, Heeseung pads around his apartment following your presence that still lingers around. Outside, the rain is already falling, there are still pieces of you behind every door, he can live just fine. He can live knowing you’re here, in this world with him, amidst the eight billion people. It’s better than accepting the fact that you’ve left him alone, forever. 

Fifth month was a little easier, Heeseung published his first short story. He was doing good, and had work to stop himself from thinking of you. Friends and family kept him busy, book signing events occupied most of his days. You didn’t leave his mind, you just started residing less. He thought of it as a routine— every morning, you’d leave his mind as his schedules began. He pictures you floating over the city, over the busy markets and sublime lakesides. You visit sometime in between, when he’s resting on his bed or enjoying his tea. You walk back in and tell him about everything you’ve seen. You talk about the balloons stuck in the tree, about the girl running behind her school bus, and then you leave again and he sits to write. You walk down the streets through the sunset, the fragrance of sea-food spinning in the air. There’s a couple on their first date, a group of friends taking pictures outside a hotpot restaurant, a wife waiting for her husband, a mother picking up her son, a family going shopping, and then you’d come back right before he’s going to bed. You’d tell Heeseung about them, your voice ringing in his ears. You kiss him goodnight, he goes to sleep, your thoughts are like a lullaby. And the next morning, the cycle repeats again.

Around the twelfth month, Heeseung found himself at his lowest. It had been a year since you left, a year since you disappeared off the face of earth with no trace of you even after investigation. The case was closed, Heeseung felt the ghost of you leaving his mind bit by bit. Your empty apartment had been sold off to a woman in her forties, he didn’t like the idea of someone else occupying the place that had once belonged to you. In his mind, you still live there, and you still spend your days lying on the living room floor with wine. The renovation began soon after, Heeseung found himself standing in the living room of your apartment. With every inch of wall painted, the absence of you caved in on him closer. Every inch of brush stroke on the wall covered the evidence of your existence, painting white over the pieces of you that you left behind the closed doors. It felt like a sign to move on, as if the world was forgetting you and so, Heeseung was supposed to do the same. It boils his blood to this day, his heart aches inexplicably. The universe knows you as someone who disappeared off the face of Earth, it doesn’t know you like Heeseung does. It doesn’t know the impact you have on his life, it’s unaware of the little things you did that changed his view about things. People are moving on, the media forgot about all the people who died in the accident. He doesn’t understand how everyone continued with their lives as if nothing ever happened. Twelfth month was the hardest for Heeseung. Disappearing memories of you from his mind froze his mind, he wanted to die, if it meant he could see you again. 

You see, getting back your ex isn’t always about the romantic feelings you had for each other. You can be friends with your ex, or neighbours, co-workers, and it would still mean you got back with them, because getting back together means putting the past behind and working together to help each other become a better version of themselves. Isn’t that what we do even when we start dating our exes; being better than how you were with them in the past, not repeating the mistakes that drifted you apart in the first place? Heeseung doesn’t mind getting back with you even if you’re a stranger he sees at the supermarket. It’s fine even if you’re someone he sees once a week at the subway. If there is even a little chance that you’re here, Heeseung is okay living with just a glimpse of you. He has waited five years, he will wait for fifty more. 

“Do you still love her?” A journalist raises the question, and Heeseung could ask himself the same thing over and over again, always ending up with the same answer: he doesn’t know. Saying that he does would be an overstatement because Heeseung doesn’t know where his heart lies, and denying it would be a blatant lie. So, instead, he likes to think of you as just someone who came into his life and lost her way out of it. 

Just someone who he met one night by the bar, someone he warmed up to so quickly that every single neuron in his body went off with alarms, alerting him of all the possible consequences about how this would take a tragic turn. It happened like this : he met you, and for some reason, he felt more connected to a stranger than anyone else— closer to you than his closest family. Someone who taught him what loneliness is because before you, Heeseung was used to doing things alone, on his own. Someone who made him rethink every life decision, someone who, he knew, would turn his life upside down, and still he let you do it. You were someone he spent his happiest days crying about and saddest moments reminiscing over. Heeseung gave you love, and in return, you gave him an insight on life, an important lesson, and an answer to all his whys and hows. Your love was soft and tacit with all hands and lips and hearts in tandem. It was like a storm and he was walking into it straight. Heeseung is an explorer, you were a traveller. You both met at the intersection, the lights went red, the world stopped for a brief second. He saw love in your smile, he wishes he could see more of it. But you had a plane to catch and Heeseung, he was already home. 

Dedicated to my ex-girlfriend, the one I didn’t expect to meet after years of trying to move on, one who left and came back as if nothing ever happened and turned my life upside down. I think it was obvious that this was about you anyway. I hope you are happy, wherever you are. I hope you’re still here. Thank you for being someone I could rely upon, for being my muse, for being my one and only love. 

—

Thank you for reading, ‘How to get back with your ex’.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Hey, I just got another idea: Deacon introducing his new girlfriend to his kids over dinner and game night.

But from the point of view from one of the kids (as a little challenge😊)

- 🥰

This is such a cute idea! I wrote it from Lila's perspective (1st person POV) and it was certainly a challenge; I haven't written 1st person in a while. I hope it turned out alright, and thank you for the request and the challenge, I enjoyed writing this! Please let me know what you think and enjoy! :)

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, I imply that Annie is dead but I think you could read it differently. bad writing?

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

A/N: Writing from Lila's POV was harder than I thought it would be, but I kind of like how it turned out for some reason? Feel free to send feedback or constructive criticism; I admit that this isn't my usual writing style but I'm open to suggestions for improvement!

The title implies that reader and Deacon get married, so if anyone wants a part 2 I could be easily convinced to write it👀

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Rules & Info

The Kay Princesses

Dad has been smiling more. Matthew thinks it’s because his friends at work are doing a good job, but I don’t know if that’s it. Sometimes, when Dad gets home after work, he isn’t smiling, but then he looks at his phone and gets all smiling. Maybe Dad likes his new phone. Or he found a new game!

“Hey,” Dad says as he opens my door. “Ready for dinner?”

When we walk together, Dad always holds my hand or carries me. Today, he tosses me over his shoulder and makes me laugh. Whatever it is that makes him happy, he's more like he used to be.

“Before we eat there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Dad says as he puts me in my chair. “So, a few months ago I met a girl.”

I knew it.

“She’s… she’s amazing. We’ve been getting to know each other and doing fun things. But she and I think it would be nice for her to meet you.”

“Are you replacing Mom?” Matthew asks, crossing his arms. (I want to kick him. Can’t he see Dad is happy?)

“Not at all,” Dad says, smiling at Matthew. His face changes as he adds, “If you don’t like her, then nothing else will happen. Okay?”

Matthew nods, but Dad’s smile is gone.

“Dad? Is she like mom?” I ask.

“Kinda. She’s also smart and beautiful, but she’s different.” His smile is back. “She likes different things, she talks differently. But she is going to love you guys.”

“We might not love her,” Matthew grumbles.

Dad takes a funny breath before tapping the table and walking to the kitchen to get dinner.

“Stop being mean,” I tell Matthew.

“He shouldn’t be talking to someone else. She isn’t Mom and I don’t want her around.”

“She’s not replacing Mom,” Samuel says. “Dad said so.”

“Well, he is. If they’re dating and they get married, then she’ll be our stepmom, meaning replacement,” Matthew says meanly.

“Dad said he’d stop seeing her if we wanted,” I remind him. “But we should meet her first. We might like her.”

Matthew rolls his eyes, which makes him look weirder than usual, and nods. I’m excited to meet her because if she makes Dad smile, she must be extra special.

“Here you are, Samuel,” Dad says when he sets Samuel’s plate down. “Matthew, Princess Lila.”

“Hey, why is she a princess but I’m just Samuel?” Samuel pouts.

I laugh at him, and Dad says, “Why am I not King Dad?”

“Wait, can I see a picture of her? What’s her name?” I ask.

Dad tells us her name, and it’s pretty. Then he shows us a picture of her, and she’s as beautiful as her name.

“She looks like a princess!” I say.

“No, she doesn’t. Princesses wear big dresses and crowns,” Matthew argues.

I want to kick him again, but Dad smiles at Matthew and puts his phone away.

✯✯✯✯✯

Matthew and Samuel are in my room with me when she gets here. I watch out the window as Dad opens her car door and squats to talk to her. 

“I’m going to meet her,” I tell my brothers.

“Dad will introduce us,” Matthew grumbles.

I don’t listen to him, so I walk down the hall but stop when the door opens.

“What if you’re wrong?” she asks.

Dad closes the door and laughs. “I’m not,” he answers. His voice sounds different, happier.

“They’re going to hate me, David.”

Dad laughs again, and I peek around the corner. His arms are around her, and she’s leaning against him.

“They’re not. Everything will be fine.”

“I just want them, and you, to be happy,” she says quietly. “Even if that doesn’t include me.”

“Hey,” Dad says, the same way he does when I’m sad or after I get hurt. “I want you here. I’m happy with you. And the kids? The kids are going to love you.”

“Even Matthew?”

“Especially Matthew.”

She laughs at that, for some reason, before she steps back from Dad.

“We’ll be right back,” Dad whispers. He steps around the corner and stops when he sees me, shaking his head and smiling. “Go say hi.”

While he goes to my room, I step out and wave at her.

“You must be Lila. You’re even prettier than your dad said,” she says. She’s kind, like Dad said.

“I am Lila. My dad says that you’re smart and beautiful and going to love me and my brothers.”

“Well, he’s right about the last thing.”

“How did you meet my dad?”

“We just ran into each other one day. He was working and I was nearby.”

“Can we be on a team for game night? I haven’t been on an all-girls’ team in a while.”

She smiles, which makes her even prettier, and says she would like that. My brothers come back, and Dad introduces everyone to each other while I sit beside her.

“Why do you like my dad?” Samuel asks.

“He’s really good to me, and for me. I think he’s the best guy I’ve ever met.”

She looks at Dad while she talks, and he smiles at her. I like her. She doesn't treat us like little kids, and I like that.

“Why do you want to replace our Mom?” Matthew asks.

She looks at Dad before she answers. “I don’t, Matthew, I promise I don’t. Your dad has told me about your mom, and she sounds amazing.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“I want to be with your dad and try to make him happy like he makes me happy.”

“By replacing my mom,” Matthew says as he gets up and walks away.

She looks up at Dad, but they’re not smiling anymore. Dad raises a hand and nods before he follows Matthew. I put my hand in hers, and she looks over at me.

“Do you love my dad?” I ask her.

Her smile returns as she says, “I do. More than anything.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Dad hugs her tightly on the porch before she leaves. I stand beside the window so I can see and hear them.

“If they don’t want me here, I understand. They’re the most important things in your life and they shouldn’t be uncomfortable or upset. I understand if you don’t want me to come back and we can be friends, right?”

“That’s not going to happen. We’ll work through it. Lila loves you.” That’s true. “And Samuel thinks you’re great. Matthew, uh, Matthew just needs some time.”

“I get it. Take all the time you guys need. You’re worth waiting for, Deac.”

They get quiet, and when I look outside again, Dad holds her while they kiss. He pulls back and wipes her face. I think she’s crying.

I decide to help Matthew with his time and walk into his room.

“We need to talk.”

“You always need to talk,” he says.

“Why don’t you like her?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Lila.”

“Who says? You won’t let me try.”

Matthew sighs and rolls away from his comic book to look at me.

“No matter what they say, even if she isn’t a replacement, she’ll end up in Mom’s spot. And I don’t want that.”

“Why not? She’s nice and she loves Dad and he loves her.”

“What are we doing?” Samuel asks as he comes in and sits beside Matthew.

“Talking about Dad’s girlfriend. Matthew doesn’t like her,” I answer.

“She’s nice, and super fun,” Samuel says. I nod and look back at Matthew.

“I never said I didn’t like her,” Matthew says quietly. “I just don’t want her to replace Mom.”

“She can’t replace Mom. They’re so different. It would be like another Mom, not a new one.”

“She even said that she can’t replace Mom and wouldn’t try to. She wants to make Dad happy, which involves us being happy,” Samuel explains. Matthew and I look at him, confused by his wording. “That’s what she told me,” he adds.

“So, you do like her?” I ask.

“I do,” Matthew says quietly. “I’m just scared.”

“There’s nothing to be scared about. Dad loves us and would never do anything without telling us or making sure we’re okay. That’s why he brought her to meet us. You should give her a chance.”

Matthew nods and stands up. “Let’s go talk to Dad.”

We walk together to the kitchen, where Dad cleans up after dinner and game night.

“Dad, can we talk?” Matthew asks.

Dad dries his hands as he nods and waves his hand toward the couch. When we all sit down, he sits on the table in front of us.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

I look at Matthew because I know he’ll answer the question. “We like her,” he admits, “and I’m sorry for being mean.”

“It’s okay, bud. This is a big change and you’re allowed to have questions and need time to think,” Dad says, putting a hand on Matthew’s leg.

“Is she coming for game night again?” Samuel asks. “Because I want to be on her team this time.”

“No, I do, she’s good,” Matthew argues.

Dad laughs and pats their knees. “If you want, she’ll come for two game nights so you can take turns.”

We nod together, and Dad smiles. She said she wants to make Dad happy, but I think she already is.

“Thank you for meeting her and being open to new things, guys. It was very grown up of you.”

“I didn’t get to tell her she looks like I princess,” I remember.

“You can tell her next time, munchkin. Maybe she’ll even play dress up with you… if you ask really, really nicely.”

That sounds amazing. I can’t wait to see her again. Maybe getting a new mom could be even better than I thought.

✯✯✯✯✯

I can hear Dad talking after he tucks me in. Dad says her name, so I must check if she’s back so soon. Creeping down the hallway, I realize I can only hear Dad.

“I told you Matthew would like you. He just needed to figure out that you’re not trying to replace Annie,” Dad says. “They really, really like you; they want you to come back for game night so you can be on Samuel and Matthew’s team next time.”

He’s quiet for a while before he asks, “Are you crying?” And then, “Are you sure? Because even when you said no it sounded like you were.”

Dad laughs like he used to, but a little different. I guess that’s how the whole thing works: he’s happy but differently than before because you’re different, and now he’s different.

“I told you they’d love you,” Dad says, “just like I do.”

They really do love each other. Dad made a good choice, and we did too.

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s finally game night again, and Dad and Matthew have decided to treat it like a “do over,” so they’re acting like they haven’t met her before. I think that’s funny, but I’m glad that she’s coming back either way. I’m by the window watching for her while Dad and Matthew set up the board game.

“She’s here!” I tell Dad.

He thanks me and then walks to the door. Matthew follows him, and I turn to watch. Dad opens the door and smiles.

“Hey,” he greets, a weird tone he only uses for her breaking through. “This is Matthew.”

Matthew shakes her hand, and they smile at each other.

“Nice to meet you,” Matthew says. “Sorry about before.”

“No apology necessary, Matthew. It’s very nice to meet you, too. Your dad has told me lots of good things about you.”

“Really? Like what?”

“He said you’re really good at tonight’s game. So, I was wondering if you’d want to be on my team? I need a lot of help.”

“Sure!”

Matthew leads her to the table where the game is and shows her where he’s sitting. Dad looks at me and winks.

“Dinner first, Matthew,” he says as he walks by. He drags his hand across her back as he passes her. He never did that with Mom, but she isn’t Mom.

“Will you be on my team next time? I get to choose the game next week,” Samuel tells her.

“I’d love to!”

While we eat dinner, she answers our questions and asks us some too. She tells us about where she’s from, her job, her favorite food, and (my question) who her favorite princess is.

“Who is your favorite princess, Lila?” she asks.

Dad smiles at her every time she asks us a question. By dessert, it feels like we’ve known her forever. She agrees to come over just to hang out with me, and I feel great; I stick my tongue out at Samuel, and he laughs at me.

“You take the first turn and I’ll watch,” she whispers to Matthew when we start playing his favorite game.

She watches him and asks him a few questions, then watches Dad as he takes his turn.

“Hey, when do I get to be on your team?” she asks Dad, smiling at him.

“You’re always on my team,” he answers, winking at her.

“Gross,” Matthew whispers.

His eyes widen, and he apologizes quickly before she and Dad start laughing. She tells him it’s okay and asks for his help with her turn. When she’s not talking to us, she looks at Dad.

As he walks her to her car, he kisses her, and spins her around. She’s always been pretty like a princess, but Dad loves her enough to treat her like one, too.

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

pairing: jisung x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!jisung. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. this one has got the angst. jisung isn't taking care of himself properly :(. reader is worried and takes it upon herself to take care of the precious dumpling. mentions of jisung spiraling/having a mental breakdown. mentions of panic attacks, anxiety, weight loss, and insomnia. pet names (affectionately). some toothe-rotting fluff and humor.

word count: 2.6k

summary: after a bout of not seeing your boyfriend jisung, you take it upon yourself to visit him one night in the studio. but what you find when you get there is the opposite of a happy sight.

a/n: whoo i haven't written a skz fic in a hot minute ever since my midterms started three weeks ago (and since this final month of the semester has been fucking me over big time). 👹 but this was really fun to write and omg ji is so cute and precious i wanna hold and take care of him forever!! 🥹 i hope to get out a few more skz fics this weekend, so please be on the lookout for those too~ and thanks for reading and supporting my work, it means a lot to me (also, i'm almost at 500 followers, wtf?!)!! 💖

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

It had been such a long time since you had visited your boyfriend Jisung at his studio. Usually, the two of you would spend time with each other whence he got home from his schedules - after the two of you had worked long and hard days. The two of you liked to spend your time together by playing various video games, binging your favourite animes, and catching up on the latest comics released by your loved authors. 

 But lately, it felt like you hadn’t seen Jisung in such a long time - even if it had only been a week. Since Stray Kids had started working on their upcoming comeback, your boyfriend spent most of his time at the company or in the studio. So that little space for you guys to catch up with each other at the end of the day was suddenly gone because of his new schedule. 

 And you wanted to change that. 

 So on that random Thursday night, you decided to surprise Jisung with a visit to his studio. And of course, you brought a large offering of food with you - which included all kinds of takeout like pizza, fried chicken, and more. 

 You arrived later at the company building than you wanted to - around ten at night - since you didn’t expect to wait so long for the food to arrive at your nearby apartment. 

 Nevertheless, as you stepped through the front doors of the company, you noticed how utterly silent it was. After all, the staff were done for the day and the only people that remained were the trainees and idols who always worked late into the night on various projects. 

 You shifted down the dark hallways silently, like a ghost. And when you finally neared the door that lead to Jisung’s studio, a huge smile spread across your lips. Because finally, you were getting to see him again. Even if it was only for a little while, an hour spent with your boyfriend would be the highlight of your entire day. 

 So you filed through the door slowly, trying to lighten your footsteps to surprise Jisung. The beat he was working on flowed around the room, the bass vibrating in the nearby speakers. The dim led-lights cast a pale blue room against the walls, calming a restless part inside of you. He was seated at his large desk, completely focused on the two monitors in front of him. Your boyfriend had his headphones on, his head bobbing along to the music, which left you with the perfect opportunity to sneak up on him. 

 Placing the bags of takeout down on the nearby coffee table that was placed just in front of the large leather sofa in the room, you crept up behind him. Reaching out, one of your hands grabbed onto his shoulder. 

 Immediately upon contact, Jisung let out a loud shriek. And within a single beat, he was ripping off his headphones and twisting around in his chair, sandy-blonde hair messy and eyes wild in fright. 

 But then, as soon as his gaze landed on you, relief washed over his face in the form of a pleased smile. “Baby-” He said in a light tone, swiveling his chair around and facing you completely. 

 “Uhm- hi,” you began, twisting your hands together in front of you in sudden nervousness. You didn’t know why you were suddenly tongue-tied around him. The two of you had been dating for what felt like years - and you usually didn’t react in such a way when he used the pet name 'baby' on you. But perhaps, it was because it had been so long since you visited him in his studio - since you had entered his sacred space and breathed the same air as him as he composed his music. Nevertheless, you mimicked his smile, before motioning with your head to the nearby table that was laden with food. “I brought dinner.” 

 At that, his smile dropped just a little bit. “Oh… thanks, baby. I’ll eat it when I can, yeah?” His focus darted to the plastic bags for just a moment, before they landed back on you. A tiny smirk spread across his lips then, as he said in a playful voice, “Quit standing over there and c’mere, I wanna get a taste of your beautiful lips.” 

 A furious blush bloomed across your cheeks as you slowly stepped into his space. Jisung wrung his arms around your waist, helping you to sit down on his lap. In an instant, he captured your mouth in a passionate, almost desperate kiss. He must’ve been feeling the effects of your absence too.

“Ji- wait,” you started, drawing away from his kisses to take a few quick breaths. Your heart was beating wildly against your ribcage, as you noticed the way that his dark, chestnut-brown eyes filled with so much love as he looked on at you in bated silence. “I don’t want the food to get cold. Let’s eat…” But then, your voice trailed off as you began to notice the slight changes in his features since the last time that you had been him. 

 Because you were sitting so close to him on his lap, you had a clearer view of his face - and how his cheeks looked a little more deflated than usual, how dark circles hung underneath his eyes, and his hair was so disheveled to the point that it looked like it hadn’t been washed in a few days. 

 “Babe- are you okay?” You suddenly asked, palm coming up between the two of you and pressing gently against his cheek. It was slightly cool to the touch, something very unlike him - since you always joked that he was your furnace. “When’s the last time you ate something?” 

 Your gaze locked with your boyfriend’s then, as he stayed silent. The quietness stretched between you, dancing around the room and only heightening your concern. 

 Because oh- 

 Oh, holy fuck- 

 He was doing it again. 

 He was letting himself slip… just like in the past, when the boys had been so incredibly busy with their schedules. 

 At first, it just started as little warning signs… 

 Less of an appetite, 

 More fatigue, 

 Restless nights of sleep. 

 But then, 

 Then- the symptoms would always get worse. 

 They usually always resulted in a heightened sense of anxiety and stress and heartache. 

 Or worse, panic attacks.

 You had seen him fall off the cliffside only two times before when his schedule had been swamped with activities. And the last time it had happened - which was well over a year before - you had promised yourself that you’d never let it happen again.  

 That late, stormy night, the two of you had been sprawled out atop your plush mattress, surrounded by the four walls of your bedroom that were dim with shadows. And you had held a weak and thin and weeping Jisung in your arms in a tight embrace, as you vowed to his shaking form that you’d never allow him to fall so deep into the hole of darkness. 

Never again. 

So, pressing both of your palms to his cheeks, you forced him to look you straight in the eyes. He was a horrible liar. Jisung could never deny you when you stared deep into his eyes, so that’s exactly what you did. 

 “Now look at me and tell me that you’ve eaten something today, baby.” The words came out a little strangled at the end, and the sharp intake of breath that fell from Jisung’s lips was all you needed to know at that moment. 

 Immediately, you felt your lips quiver in a sob, as you fully leaned into him. Wrapping both arms around his waist in a tight grip, you buried your face into his warm neck, struggling to breathe as worried thoughts began to race through your mind. 

 “It hasn’t been that long, I swear-” He finally said, his soft voice taking a sharp blade to the tension that hung between the two of you. You felt his fingers grasp at your sides, digging into the fabric of your thick, oversized hoodie. “Just… it’s been so hectic around here that I haven’t found the time to-”

 At that, you frantically pushed away from him, “There’s never an excuse, baby. Never. I don’t care how busy you are- you need to eat. You need to sleep… even if it’s just a few hours a night. You need to take care of yourself, because-” Your words cut off then, as the lump in your throat solidified and the tears began to flow from the corners of your eyes, heating your flushed cheeks. 

 “Because what, baby girl?” He questioned, his eyes softening exponentially at the sight of your tears. He reached forward, tucking a strand of your hair behind one of your ears before he brushed a few of your tears away with a gentle thumb. 

 “Because… I can’t lose you, Ji. I- I-” The breath caught in your throat then, as all of the fears of what could happen raced through your mind then. Of what could’ve happened if you hadn’t caught it in time. If you hadn’t visited him that night and hadn’t seen him up close. “I’m sorry… for visiting you so late, I-I should’ve been here, and I wasn’t.” 

 Jisung silenced you with a kiss, delicately pressing his forehead against yours, the scent of him - of freshly cleaned linen and sweet chamomile tea - danced around you. It reminded you of how familiar he felt, how sweet and kind and beautiful he was. And how you never, ever wanted to let him go. 

 “Please don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he began in a low, gruff voice, his words slightly strained in emotion. “I should be the one apologizing. I told you last time that I’d never let it get this far, yet here I am…” 

 You cracked your eyes open to the sight of his furrowed brows and saw the weary light that filled his gaze at that exact moment. “No- no it’s okay, Ji. You don’t have to say sorry, I understand you.” You flattened both hands against his chest, slowly pressing against the muscle there. “Just… just let me take care of you, yeah? Let me help you gain strength again.” 

 A tiny grin cracked across his mouth at your words, and he canted his head to one side, focus landing on the table just behind you, which was full of the food that you had brought with you. “If helping me gain my strength back includes devouring that food over there, I’m all for it.” He said in a mischievously-dark tone. 

 You rose an eyebrow his way, “It also includes you promising me that you’ll get a minimum of four hours of sleep every night... at least until you're done with promotions for this comeback.” 

 He let out a loud groan, pressing his head against the back of his chair in apparent agony. “Four hours? Babe- you’re killing me here.” He whined, screwing his eyes shut and frowning in displeasure. 

 “Well, it’s either that or- six hours.” 

 Jisung flashed you a glare, but it wasn’t menacing in the least bit. Instead, it only made you giggle in delight at the sight of it. Because suddenly, you realized that upon first entering his studio and seeing him, he had been acting… different. 

 More exhausted than usual, 

 And even... weary. 

 But soon after having cracked him open, and discovering his struggles with facing another downward spiral, your boyfriend immediately brightened. 

 Like, just the sight of you had helped relieve some of the pain.

Even if the circles were still dark under his eyes and even if his cheekbones were a little gaunt, at least he was starting to come back to his usual, bright self.

 “Well now, four hours doesn’t seem too unreasonable…” Jisung started, running a hand through his hair and chuckling faintly. 

 You stood up from his lap then, nearing the table that was full of food and taking a seat on the sofa. “Good. Now c’mere, I’m starving.” You patted the space beside you, offering your boyfriend a warm smile. 

 “I haven’t eaten since… I can’t even remember when. I think it was last night’s dinner with the guys.” Jisung confessed as he took the seat beside you, already prying open one of the bags. His entire face lit up at the sight of the glistening, still-hot fried chicken. He turned to you then, a goofy kind of smile adorning his face. “Oh- what am I ever going to do with you? You’re just too perfect for me!” 

 Without any warning, Jisung was pulling you into a tight hug, peppering kiss after kiss across your entire face. You tried to protest against his affection - but in all actuality, you secretly adored it. Adored his attention and love. And of course, he knew this. So it wasn’t until you finally managed to throw him off of you that he stopped and leveled you with a mirthful smirk. 

 “Yeah, okay- I get it, you love me.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him, inclining over the table and grabbing a saucy drumstick for yourself. 

 The silence lapsed between the two of you for a few beats, as you focused on the meal. When suddenly, Jisung was speaking again, but in a much quieter voice than before. 

 “Thank you, baby.” 

 You turned to him, brows slightly furrowing in question as you chewed on a slice of cheese pizza. 

 “I mean… you didn’t have to do any of this,” he looked around the table that was full of steaming hot takeout. “Yet, you still did. You visited me at my studio to surprise me, but I think you might’ve saved me in the process too.”

 You reached over then, brushing a few of your fingers against his cheek. He leaned into the touch, holding your hand close to his skin. “That’s what I’m here for, babe… to make you feel better. And I’ll always be here, no matter what. So every time you start to feel shitty, just call me, and I’ll be here in a heartbeat.” 

 Jisung turned his face then, pressing a few delicate kisses against your fingertips. “And I hope you know that I’ll do the same for you, princess. Always. Whenever you need me, I’m here.” 

 Smiling, you tilted in once more to press a kiss against his lips. And in a split second, he was kissing you back. More fervently this time, and when the two of you pulled apart to catch your breaths, you felt the flush from before start to brighten your cheeks again. 

 “Holy fuck- I’m never getting enough of you,” was all that you heard your boyfriend say before he was tipping back into you to push his perfect, rosebud-like mouth against yours.

 After a few beats of silence that were only filled with your kisses, you slanted away from your boyfriend and glared his way, “Okay, okay- but you better stop now mister, before I truly get angry.” 

 He wiggled his eyebrows at you, a devilish smirk widening the corners of his mouth. “Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do if I don’t stop?” 

 You hit his shoulder with a light fist, “I”m gonna eat all of this food myself, and leave none for you.” 

 Jisung’s impish grin dropped instantly at your words, and suddenly, he was diving headfirst into the food once more. As he stuffed his face full of pizza and chicken wings, cheeks puffing up like a cute little chipmunk, you could only chuckle softly and stare back at him in loving adoration. 

 Because no matter what he went through - you were always going to be by his side. 

 And it came in handy that he was a horrible liar, because at least he could never hide anything from you. 

 So matter what, no matter the hurdles that he would face in his life, you would always be right alongside him, helping him overcome them all. And you knew that he’d continually do the same thing for you in return. 

Fin.

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© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[nagazmulagan]

SUMMER GAMES 🫧

...god, i wish i never spoke.

after many failures concerning love, you decided to give yourself some time and peace, and most importantly, decided to not search for love in vain. that was, unless you saw him. and he abruptly turned your world around.

— childe x reader, modern au kinda, angst. kinda chaotic, kinda weird, kinda disturbing, mentions of death, unsettling relationship dynamic, kind of obnoxious but i haven't written anything for quite some time T__T i need to get back ""in shape"" somehow riiight... so for now yall have to b satisfied with this.. thing but i swear i'm coming back. ᥫ᭡ᥫ᭡

special mention 4 @spierredalay my biggest supporter neva left me🛐🗣️🗣️

you couldn't help but look at your phone screen, wondering if you've done something wrong. after your silly attempts to create any type of bond and getting positive responses, you'd never think that it will end up like this. summer had barely started, and you two were already done? you couldn't help but reminiscence about the beginnings.

you first saw him some time ago, you couldn't really pinpoin, while waiting for your bus. your classes ended up way faster than they were supposed to. you rarely went outside without a reason - specifically in this part of the city. that would explain why you never saw him before. he looked so mysterious, so captivating... definitely the type of guy you'd have a crush on. short ginger hair, flying onto every direction possible, but he still was mesmerising. it definitely suited him.

eyes the color of the sky; like something to look forward to everyday. indicating either calm, beautiful heaven or the consumptive, neverending storm that could wipe out nations. worlds, even. skin so pale you would consider him a vampire: the twilight type of vampire, because he was just oh-so-pretty. everything about him was straight up addicting. you were sure he wasn't about to leave your head for a while.

and so he has not - he continued roaming through your thoughts, consuming every free second in your day to just think about him. him, him and once again him. he was haunting you; aware of that or not, you weren't sure. the only thing that you were absolutely positive about was the fuzzy, butterfly-like feeling in your stomach. you didn't know much about him, right, but is having a silly little crush so bad? not like you were harming anyone.

too bad, you actually were causing harm. to yourself. you were debating; the urge to contact him anyhow so strong it was barely manageable. having a few popular friends had its benefits; one of them recognised him from your depiction and gave you his name. but what would he think of you then? "hi, i saw you one day and was absolutely mesmerised. i was wondering if you maybe wanna go out one day?" wasn't a good idea. in this situation, nothing seemed like a good idea. with your heart desperately aching, you decided to give up on your little crush and live as if nothing has happened. if only you could stay true to your own words...

saturday came. your friends, concerned about your lack of social activites, invited you out to grab a drink and have fun. sure, what could go wrong? it's not like you're an irresponsible drinker. you never did anything questionable while drunk, and you never got yourself into a barely conscious state - so why this time anything would be different? well...

you all got, let's say, a bit TOO drunk. and what did you do? you texted him. you texted him, the mesmerising, your ideal of a man, one-of-a-kind - tartaglia. what's even worse, you texted him that you love him. and it wasn't just one message; there were dozens of them, talking how pretty he was in your eyes and how you absolutely fell in love back then when you saw him. and to your surprise, he replied. and he was chill about the whole ordeal.

and that's how most of your saturday went - chatting with scaramouche, you confessing love to him, childe taking it all surprisingly gentle and in a soft manner. you definitely wasn't expecting that. he seemed so... disconnected? from the outside world when you first saw him. nonetheless, you were glad that he reacted this way. but looking back on this day, one could wish that he simply ignored the messages.

sunday. you spent the whole day laying in your bed, contemplating death and your own existence. you were, quite obviously embarrassed, and ashamed, but there's nothing that you can do now. just... live on. maybe forget that you even did anything, gaslight yourself. but the guilt was eating you up, not leaving any room for sane and mature solutions. pretending none of this happened it was, then. but who could've guessed that the things will take this turn?

while you were enjoying your evening tea, your friend texted you, talking about childe. your mood suddenly bitter, not being ready to continue on topic which was making you feel ashamed and wishing you were dead. she pleaded you to ask ajax about some guy, which he supposedly knew. you can't just leave your close friend in the dark. so you messaged him, apologising for the whole situation, explaining you weren't sober, and asking about another mysterious fella. and that's how your real first conversation started - him talking some deep, dark shit and blaming himself for whatever happened with the one and only, mcgee.

next days were even better - it seemed like a regular relationship between the two of you. just like a pair of acquaintances. maybe you were a tad closer than regular acquaintances, but you couldn't call the two of you anything else. after all, technically, you still were strangers. that didn't stop any of you with unfolding tiny bits of your darkest secrets, most depressing situations and current problems. you found comfort in your little mr.perfect - and you couldn't believe it. how did this all happen? did he really not care about your whole love confessions? maybe it was for the better. but the more you think about it, you are getting sure that maybe he should've just shunned you and told you that you're creepy. would be better for you.

and he was so nice; always ready to talk, almost as if he was ready for anything you'd prepare for him. comforting you, reassuring you, doing everything he could to just make you feel better. your long talks at night were something you started to look forward to everyday. your little crush didn't disappear at all - quite the opposite. you found yourself getting even more smitten. that was, until that one particular conversation.

sunday, a few weeks later after the start of your weirdly blossoming friendship. it was now common for you to get a little flirty with him, childe didn't mind that at all. he didn't always reciprocate, but he sure was happy to receive all your attention. so, when this particular night you decided to ask him if he's a tough one to get, you definitely didn't expect that answer. and maybe you should've - it was all too perfect anyway.

his reply was crushing you from the inside, making you want to just bawl your eyes out and cut your ears off. "hmm, probably. as of now, i sure am, since i already love someone, sorry." he was still in love with his ex. and how could you pretend that everything was fine? you already knew that it will leave a permanent mark on your relationship. you tried your best to pretend that it didn't phase you, but ajax was quick to catch up - noticing your odd behaviour, perfectly pointing out that you started to act like that after he told you those painful words. you didn't want to leave him, not yet, you still thought you had a chance - so you reassured him that it's not about him.

monday was full of tears. you just couldn't stop crying; it all being too painful to bear with. even with the support coming from all your friends, you weren't able to pick up the pieces of your poor, shattered heart. and yet you still had to pretend that everything it fine between you two. as if he didn't break your heart. but he did, although it was not tartaglia's fault. nor yours. but it was oh-so-cruel, to know that he loves someone, and this particular someone being your complete opposite. life is cruel - always has been, but you thought you suffered enough to get some happiness now.

so you pretended. you tried your best to not distance yourself so childe won't suspect anything, and although it was hard - you managed. as painful as it was, it wasn't your concern anymore. that's what you've been trying to tell yourself, repeating it over and over in that monotonous voice. after some time it really did get better; even though you still felt the 'scar' of it all happening, it didn't ruin your relationship with tartaglia. for now.

you showed great concern about him; even though he didn't reciprocate your silly feelings, you still wanted the best for him. how could you not? being bitter and pessimistic wouldn't help you heal, and this way you can be at peace with yourself and with childe. but nothing lasts forever, right? small group of your besties, your girlfriends, decided to go out, without drinking this time. encouraging you to invite ajax. no wonder you were a bit hesitant at first, but after some coercing you agreed. he and your friends were fine with this, but you? the amount of doubts you had was enormous.

could you really look him in the eyes again? without all the pain and hurt piling up again? you didn't want to suffer again, but avoiding the situation would be even worse. so there you were, on a thursday afternoon, sitting outdoors with your group, childe and his friend zhongli. and that's when you realised you actually couldn't look at him without feeling awkward and uneasy. you tried to avoid every possible conversation, while keeping the atmosphere friendly. it was hard, but manageable. but what hurt the most?

the way he was touchy with a few of your friends. they were intoxicated, obviously not sure of what they were doing, but the image of ajax sharing a beer, cigarette and doing fun little pics with your friends was engraved in your head. and back then, while you were still laughing at the unfunny joke zhongli has said, you decided that it was the last one of your meetings. there is no need to torture oneself.

so you tried to distance yourself. but it was hard, with him and his bubbly personality all over you. he never gave this much effort, you thought. and too bad he woke up too late, when you already made up your mind to leave all of this behind and move on. but he was holding you; captive. like a prisoner. like a pair of shackles. not letting you go for even a second. so you stayed.

until he suddenly gave up on you. he got distant, too, but all too sudden. all to quick. like he got influenced. you didn't understand any of it; you decided to put your pain aside for him, and now he had fun and runs away? you're not gonna chase him like a dog again, are you?

no, you're not going to. it was sad; all that which happened, but you can't do whatever you please. maybe the gods in teyvat had a different plan for you. maybe you said 'i love you' too fast? maybe this, maybe that... honestly, you just expected more of him. because how can you get so indifferent, so angry at someone who gave you this much warm and was about to never leave your side? you kept it decent, sane, peaceful. maybe this whole peaceful life - maybe that's not him?

whatever was the reason, you just decided that holding ajax inside of your head, inside of your memory as a warning will serve it's purpose. salvaging isn't always the right thing to do - sometimes it's better to just let some things go. you may say this milion times, yet you know that you can't let go.

he became a part of your life; a part of you. even if you don't know him for ages, even if he may appear and disappear any second, you know damn well that he will be present. you will look for him everywhere now - everytime you will meet someone new, you'll see a trait similar to childe's, and hell will arise.

you don't want to throw all your life away just because of some sort of failed situationship. you cannot let yourself go down rabbit hole and lose yourself once again. the thing is, no matter how many times you will convince yourself this, you will always see his face in the window and he will be stuck on your skin; just like a tattoo, a scar.

but this one cannot be erased.

[ivy-saurs]

20 fic questions

i was tagged by @mutxnts ! thank you so much for the tag ash, i had a lot of fun answering these questions 💜

1. how many works do you have on Ao3?

i have 3 posted and i'm hoping to publish more this year! i have a few wips in the pipeline :)

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

40,769 words (haha 69 nice)

3. what fandoms do you write for?

ace attorney and the simon snow/carry on series

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

a snowy christmas (simon snow) one of us is lying (simon snow) carpool (ace attorney)

5. do you respond to comments?

yes! comments give me so much serotonin hehe

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

none of the fics i've written really have angsty endings haha, they have angst in the middle/towards the end but then i like to end on a happy note. if i had to go with one, maybe it would be one of us is lying?

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i would go with carpool because even though the ending is open, there wasn't any angst in that fic and it was a pretty short and happy fic

8. do you get hate on fics?

thankfully i haven't so far 😅

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i don't at the moment but i would never say never...

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i've never written one but there are some very cool crossovers out there!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

thankfully not (at least not that i know of)

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

no i haven't!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i haven't but it's definitely something i would be open to doing! in primary school, my best friend and i would often co-write stories together and it was so fun!

14. what’s your all time favorite ship?

either narumitsu or snowbaz

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i'm worried that i'll never actually finish the AU i've come up with where edgeworth owns a gay bar and suddenly he's losing customers because a rival gay bar opens next door - and it just so happens to be owned by a cute guy called phoenix wright...

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i'm fairly decent at writing dialogue and writing concisely!

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

stealing ash's answer for this one lol i'm also not the best at writing prose and i struggle with using flowery/poetic language and vocabulary

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i don't think i've ever done it before and if i did i would only do it for very well-known phrases in other languages like "te amo"

19. first fandom you wrote for?

technically pokemon when i was a kid, although i never published it, so if we're talking published works, then it's the simon snow fandom

20. favorite fic you’ve written?

one of us is lying! i worked so hard on it and i took a long break from writing it, to the point where i wasn't sure if i would ever finish it. but i did and it was SO worth it. i recently found my notes from when the fic was in its infancy and it made me so proud to see how much the fic changed and grew while i was writing it! it's my longest fic and i really wanted to post it all in one go - it took so much willpower to only post one chapter a week even though all of it was already written haha

i'm not sure who to tag but please feel free to do this if you want to and say that i tagged you in it, i always love reading people's answers to these questions!

[texasdreamer01]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Self-tagging from @ygodmyy20! 👋

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

80!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

239,131.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Stargate Atlantis, but I'm considering the Hobbit fandom again due to some fandom events.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Psychopomp (Space Australians fandom, technically origfic) Twixt Primroses and Hawthorns (Hobbit fandom) All we are, and all we have… (Star Wars TCW / Prequel fandom) Ādfȳr (Hobbit fandom) Nice Manners for a Thief (Hobbit fandom)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do my best, even if it's just to say thank you. I've gotten some puzzling comments before, so I haven't gotten to them yet.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhhhhhhhhh I guess it depends on the fandom? I write angst a lot, anyway, so it's difficult to tell which is the most angstiest story. Maybe The Serenity Protocol, for the Star Wars fandom?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

In terms of most satisfying resolution, maybe Svabhāva from YGO DM.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I had this one guy who left comments on every single fic on FFN below a thousand words saying "This is not a drabble.", which I suppose counts?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep! According to my commenters, "hot".

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yyyyy-no? I have one drafted but it's not even remotely finished.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Once! And it was even from someone commenting on my fic! They did a terrible job filing off the serial numbers for it, too.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've translated my own fics as practice, but never by anyone else.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Accidentally, yes.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I have a multitude of ships because of different dynamics and fandoms, so honestly I couldn't pick between them?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Kintsugi, in the Sherlock fandom. I had to take a break from it and don't know if I'll ever be able to re-dedicate the time it needs.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Verbiage. I used to write a lot of poetry before doing long-form, so the word choices carried over.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing while tired or otherwise preoccupied, mostly because I write to think out an idea rather than to attract attention, so I'm not terribly concerned with quality until I re-read it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Pretty fun for some fandoms! It gets frustrating with some conlangs that are obviously under-developed, or if it's a fandom that's typically English-only and you have characters that know other languages but for some reason never use them.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Danny Phantom.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Ehhh. I can definitely say I've improved with my writing, but I've never gotten into the habit of genuinely liking my work because I know it could be better.

No pressure tags: @spurious, @pandora15, and anyone else that wants to do it!

[dharmasharks]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @voylitscope, thank youuu 💙💙💙! I love reading everyone's answers because I am nosy as heck and you all are very interesting.

1.How many works do you have posted on ao3?

8.

2. What's your total ao3 wordcount?

129,639. I worked really hard to make time for all of 'em, so woop woop for passing 100k this year.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

My reading habits are all over the place but for writing it's still all stucky all the time.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The more things change (Wartime, E)

Lonesome no more (Wakanda, E)

You are here (Civil War, M)

In the deepest night (Pre-war, E)

Well-worn (Pre-war 5+1, T)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely. Probably with too much enthusiasm. Posting fic is not always my favorite, but I love talking about stucky in the comments, so it balances out. Sometimes it takes me forever if I'm on a writing roll or if I have to like, work and hang with my family and stuff.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I wouldn't call them unhappy endings by any means, but both of my most kudos'd fic have a little twist of pain there at the end, just by the nature of being canon compliant and by engaging with the tragedy looming around the edges of the story. Lonesome no more probably takes the cake, though.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Till there were no more wolves in the West, my western/historical AU, has the most unequivocally happy ending I've ever written. The lows are low and the highs are high, I'd say.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no, because I'm sensitive and would probably flee to the woods. Why do this? Don't be mean!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

The big feelings, character study kind! But really, my top tags are Angst + Blow Jobs, so there you go. I like writing emotional sex in which closed off, lonely people get to (or have to!) be vulnerable and tender. I've also written non-explicit smut for You are here and Wolves in the West and like it very much, too.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't. Not to say that I wouldn't, there are just so many toys I still haven't played with yet in the MCU sandbox.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Jeez, I sure hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

The more things change has been translated into Russian, which is neat.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but that sounds really fun!

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

SteveBucky, Steve and Bucky, Bucky and Steve. I consume a lot of content and tip my hat appreciatively to a lot of ships, but I don't know, man. There's something about those guys. It has been years! They make me insane every day! What is that!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a pretty extensive graveyard on my gdrive and I'm pretty okay with that. If I've abandoned it, it's because it stopped being fun and if it stops being fun then it's time to work on something else. I do have a 1920s AU that I don't think I'll finish, but that's only because it morphed into something else that I like better.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization, tension, emotions. I think I have a restrained style that works well for the kinds of quiet moments I like to write about.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Being the slowest of the slowpokes, ugh. But technically speaking, plotty stuff is hard. Dialogue also takes me a while. I think I've gotten a lot better, but sometimes I'll read something (stucky, obviously) with just the snappiest, most gut punchy exchanges and want to throw my computer out the window.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Oh gosh, that intimidates me. I've dropped one-word phrases here and there, but I only speak English fluently and would be so embarrassed if I used some google translate gibberish. (Although, apparently that's good enough for Marvel, so maybe my standards are too high.)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I had a semi-functional desktop computer in my room growing up that wasn't connected to the Internet, so the world will never know how much hurt/comfort Animorphs fic was happening in there. I also wrote a lot of original fiction for most of my young adult life. Stucky is the first fandom I ever posted stuff for, though.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Wolves in the West is my most favorite thing. I dug so deep on those characters and went so far out of my comfort zone. I quit and un-quit about 5 times. It's my favorite 'verse to hang out in when I'm washing dishes or bored in a meeting, which explains why I'm writing a porn-with-feelings addition...instead of the fic I'm supposed to be working on that has an actual deadline. (*sweats*)

Tagging in @hipsterdiva @dontcallmebree @xoxobuckybarnes @sparkagrace and anyone else who hasn't gone yet but wants to!

[naturaldreamer]

Undertale x Reader Content

Greetings everyone! My name's Dreamer, but you can also call me Star! I've gathered some courage to do something like this and I've been a fan of Undertale for a long time, so I figured I get back into writing. Here are some rules to get started with and characters I'm willing to write at this time. More characters will be added the more comfortable I am with writing, especially with getting a handle on some of the characters.

I've cleared out old requests from the last time I did this, so my apologies for that.

Rules to Follow Before Requesting

1) I will only do Undertale x Reader fanfic/scenarios/headcanons/imagine. No OC's or Canon x Canon. I might make an exception for an OC, but it will more than likely be for a special occasion such as reaching a goal on my blog or something. Other than that, if it's not Undertale x Reader request, the message will be deleted.

2) When you do make a request, please be specific on what you want. If the message is, for example, just “Sans x Reader please!” with nothing else added, it'll be deleted. You gotta give me something, my little readers.

3) Please only request 2 characters at a time when it comes to your request. Any more and I'll only do the first two. You'll have to request again for the rest of the characters.

4) I will accept a bit of smutty requests, but please keep it tame. Nothing too crazy, my little readers, since there are young people using the site. When I do the request, I'll put a 18+ on it, put it under “Read More” and I'll ONLY accept the request from someone who is 18+. If the age isn't showing on your blog when you make a request, then I will delete it. Also, if the sexual request makes me uncomfortable, then I'll delete that as well.

5) I'll write Fluff, Comfort and Angst. The angst might be a bit severe or tame depending on my mood, so you've been warned. I will put triggers on the post just in case and put it under “Read More” if it's a bit intense. If there's a trigger I missed, please let me know immediately so I can add to the post.

6) No Sancest, Papyrus Incest, Yandere, or Underage requests, please. I have nothing against the first two, but it's not something I'm comfortable writing.

7) Please be kind and patient to me along with other readers. I want this to be a safe space for you guys and to myself when it comes to my writing. I haven't written anything in a while, so I'm going to be rusty. I also have a life outside of the internet, so I'm not always here or have time to sit down to write right away. Thank you for understanding. ♥

8) All and all... Let's have fun with this! ♥

Characters I'm willing to write for at this time (More will be added later on):

Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Cross, Horror, and Error. So, the Bad Sans'. XDDD

Edit: I started uploading videos on YouTube of my past VTuber, who was in a Halloween costume, playing Undertale. Here's the start of the series. Enjoy~! ♥ [First Part] (I'm going to update this at a later time since I'm done with the series on YouTube.)

Edit: I started a Bad Sansuary challenge in January and I figured I keep things here in this link to get started. Here's a link for the first page.

MASTERLIST

*Sans

Sans x Reader Cuddle

*Error

Error x Reader Angst

*Nightmare

Headcanon #1

*Killer

Headcanon #1

Headcanon #2

*Cross

Headcanons

*Error

Headcanons

*Bonus Headcanons

Lust Sans Headcanon #1

Also, if you're curious about how I am as a VTuber/Streamer, here's a link to my Twitch! I don't have much of a schedule, but I stream mainly in the afternoons and/or at night. ♥ I have a Twitter as well if you guys want to look into that!

[scarletmanuka]

Meme: Top 10 AO3 works vs Personal Top 10

Rules: List your "top 10" (or up to 10 if you haven't written that many) fics ranked by kudos on AO3. Are you surprised by what's most popular to your readers? Then, under a cut, provide your ranking of your personal top 10 fics (with explanations if you want!), and then tag a few fellow writers!

@thisbluespirit tagged me a wee while ago but I was travelling and now I'm not. :-)

These are all The Sentinel except for the last which is Maiden Rose

Reverently and Discreetly

A Modern Kind of Guy

Bearing the Mark

The Children of Cascade

Restraint

Hell of a Town

Right Memory

Family Business

A Thin Strand of Winter

Fall Fly Laugh

The main thing I notice about the above is that they are almost all longfic, (or what counts for it in my world of Brevity is Good) and a good number of them are all notably tropey in a recognisable fan favourite way. (Restraint is short but is also light bondage porn, say no more!) I think of these, Family Business and A Thin Strand of Winter are among my personal favourites, although I'm definitely proud of the worldbuilding I did for my Children of Cascade stories.

A more personal top ten would go as follows, in no particular order:

Family Business and A Thin Strand of Winter as noted above

That Bloody Callan (Callan in case the title doesn't give it away, and a gen ficlet)

How Strange the Change (Maiden Rose. Oh look it's a ghost story and a death story!)

Walking the Maze (TS, brief Alex/Jim/Blair, what can I say? but also plot)

The Grand Tableau (TS, a misery-wallow non-con/dub-con death-fic extravaganza, so totally on brand. I'm actually quite proud of this because I wrote it to work out my feelings about my mother's Alzheimer decline and death but I think I balanced out the personal and actually making Jim and Blair themselves pretty well)

New Age Woo (TS, complete fluff and just fun. Plus it wrote itself)

Kings or Knaves (TS. And speaking of writing itself, 40k words of blackmail and angst and burglary in Regency England.)

Nobody Knows Me At Home Any More (The Professionals, actual plotting, and a story that ties in one theme that's also important in Family Business, namely the relationship between adult children and their parents, nothing personally of interest here, please move along, thanks so much.)

Her Flowers to Love (Sapphire and Steel, but not about them at all. My Eleanor back-story fic)

The main thing I notice here is that there's more short form fic, and more, well, death. I have my quirks, yes?

No pressure at all, but I tag @sullendragon, @dont-rain-on-my-barricade, and @afrogeekgoddess

[troutfur]

for your ask game:

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats 

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

whichever one/s you want to answer :D

Ask game

🍦

Ah, hate is a strong word. I think I hardly have a character I really truly have such overwhelming negative feelings for. Most Warriors characters I can find some kind of virtue in how they are portrayed in canon or otherwise I am willing to take the Erins at face value on their authorial intent and try play editor with their material to bring it to closer alignment.

...That said I do think Rock and Midnight are damn near unfixable and prime targets from complete deletion from the collective memory so. UGH. Now I have to figure out something nice to say about them.

Okay, here goes! Rock is easier!

The idea of a cat soooooo old and wrinkly he's lost all fur helps sell the primordial spirit thing very nicely, super creepy design

The trial with the stick thing is very ominous and I think could have been used effectively as grim reaper imagery

Uh... I suppose that his appearance to drag Jayfeather off when trying to save Flametail is good angst fuel if only they had followed up on Po3's Flamepaw being this bright-eyed kid who idolizes Jayfeather instead of having him being dropped like a hot potato because he's not bio family ("I'm not gonna go on my whole schpiel about how narratively infuriating the disiheriting thing is, I'm not gonna go on my whole schpiel about how narratively infuriating the disinheriting thing is, I'm not gonna go on my whole schpiel about how narratively infuriating the disinheriting thing is...")

🎱

Fairly modest I believe. Haven't written much in a long time and I'm sure the heyday of my popularity is over. But hey, I have fun with it so when I'm back I'm sure I'll have at least some of you guys looking forward to it.

🌵

I have found the above playlist to be my favorite instrumental music while writing. I just found it on Spotify as a generically generated playlist and I just really vibed with it. Before settling for acoustic guitar my go-to was piano but the vibe is very different and much more versatile, you get me?

[thejilyship]

Is it a tad too soon and far too greedy to ask if/when there may be a Part III? 🤍

Alright y'all, I'm gonna go ahead and put this on ao3 so I don't have to keep linking back to old tumblr posts. I'll do it this time, but any more than two tumblr links is too many. Also if I post it on ao3, I won't have to tag all of you lol Tagging: @steadygalaxyychild @little-mee @moonpuup @flyingpalomita @jinahshedidntly @maybedancanwrite @constancezin @tragicromanceftus @sunshine-marauders @victoria8719 @sami210-blog @uchihako @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world @earth-to-japha @the-dream-team @charmingwillow @mlw10 @decaffeinated-donut And if I missed anyone I apologize <3 Thank you all for being so lovely!

Part One | Part Two

AO3

“Black and MacDonald,” McGonagall called out. “Jones and Meadows, Bones and Prewett, and lastly, Potter and Evans. Your assignment is due next week so get started on it as soon as you can.”

Lily had her lips pressed together before McGonagall was done talking, but when she saw the back of James’ head start to turn toward her, she forced a smile onto her face. Everything between her and James was forced as of late. It was forced and hard and it sucked. It sucked a lot. She hadn’t wanted to lose her friend, but it was impossible for her to pretend that she hadn’t.

“Mary!” Sirius called back to Lily’s tablemate, “You good with doing this one for us?”

Mary rolled her eyes as McGonagall chastised Sirius and Lily held her breath as she watched James walk toward her, his hand in his hair. James arrived at their desk and rapped his knuckles against the surface. “Looks like you and I are partners, Evans.”

“Yeah,” Lily nodded. “Library after dinner?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He nodded. He pushed his glasses up his nose and then nodded a second time before he walked back to his desk without saying anything more. Lily’s chest tightened as it did so often around James now.

Lily let her chin drop to her chest and then sat up straight. “I’m gonna see if I can switch partners.” She said to Mary and then stood. Mary grabbed her arm.

“Are you sure?”

“He can hardly even look at me, Mary.” Lily huffed. “Working out rounds with him last Sunday was like torture.” They had sat in near silence the entire time and then James offered to finish it up by himself, which Lily couldn’t let him do, but then they were sitting in silence knowing that James had tried to escape. Lily had already worked out most of next week’s schedule so that they wouldn’t have to put themselves through that again.

“Alright. He’s gonna know that you asked though.”

“I’m only asking before he does.” Lily nearly rolled her eyes and then started toward the front of the room. The rest of the class started filing out of the classroom and McGonagall waved her wand at the board, erasing the days notes.

“Ms. Evans,” She smiled as Lily approached her. “Did you have a question about today’s lesson?”

“No, I have a question about the assignment.”

“Of course,” McGonagall nodded, waving her wand at the stack of scrolls on her desk, sending them flying neatly toward her office. “And what is your question?”

Lily tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked over her shoulder. “Is there anyway that I could switch partners?”

McGonagall’s smile disappeared and her brow narrowed. “You best have a compelling reason to ask.”

“Yes, professor, I just think I could work better with someone else.”

“You and Potter are the Head students, you would together quite frequently.”

“Yes.” Lily nodded.

“Has Potter done something recently-“

“No, this isn’t about James.” Lily interrupted. “I mean it is, but it’s not. He’s great and pulls his weight and all that, I just…” She quite suddenly felt the urge to cry, because now that she was trying to justify this to McGonagall it sounded like she was being daft and overly sensitive. She should be able to do an assignment with James and not make a big deal out of it.

“Lily,” McGonagall spoke more softly.

“Oh, it’s so stupid,” Lily shook her head and clenched her fist at her side. She looked over her shoulder, but the classroom was empty now. “I shouldn’t have bothered you with this. It’s fine.”

“You already bothered me with it, might as well get out with it, dear.” She raised her brows and looked at Lily over the tops of her glasses.

Lily tilted her head. “I fancy him.” She said, defeated and tired and still feeling ridiculous. She couldn’t look at McGonagall as she said it. “He’s got a girlfriend. He found out that I fancy him and can hardly look me in the eyes anymore and he’s still got a girlfriend.” She shrugged a shoulder and unclenched her hand only to ball it back up. “I didn’t tell him how I felt because I didn’t want to lose my friend, but I lost him anyway.” She finally looked at McGonagall. “And, more importantly, I think I’ll do better on the assignment if I have a different partner.”

McGonagall was quiet for a moment and then she nodded her head. “You and MacDonald can be partners. Black and Potter will be happy with that switch.”

“Thank you so much, professor!” Lily bounced on the balls of her feet, but even though she was getting what she had asked for, it didn’t feel like a win. It wasn’t really what she wanted. She wanted to shake James until he could smile while in the same room as her again. His smile was her favorite- that wasn’t a train of thought she needed to follow.

“Yes, of course.” She leaned over and opened the top drawer on her desk, pulling out a dark purple tin. She pulled the top off and held it out to Lily. “Have a biscuit.”

Lily, never one to turn down a biscuit, reached out for one.

“The two of you will have to work through this eventually.” She said, her tone softer than Lily was used to hearing it.

“I know.” Lily nodded. “I think a little bit of space will help.”

It wasn’t what she wanted, but she couldn’t pretend that James was still her friend. Not like he used to be anyway. If she wanted to salvage any part of her relationship with him, things were going to have to change, and if that meant that she had to see him less, than that’s what she would do.

“I’ll make sure our head duties aren’t affected.”

“Very good, Ms. Evans.”

[peachiimilquetea]

Ok ok ok please god i need "Am I your first kiss?" fluff with iida for the event. I love your angst but good god it fucked me up really good

"𝐚𝐦 𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬?" + tenya iida

a/n: thank you so much! i literally never write angst for myself pls it bums me out lol, but ooooo this is good! i haven't written pure fluff in a hot minute so this request was a welcome change! i was literally listening to kiss me more while I finished this up FBSJKFBDS check out my event here!

contains: flustered iida, friends to lovers, 7 minutes in heaven woot woot, class rep iida technically breaking the rules?, class bonding, very fluffy, me writing kissing scenes despite never having been kissed beyond a peck

length: 1.3k

a/n ii: this is also lightly proofread so i apologize for any errors! happy 4th for anyone that’s celebrating today!

“you guys, lets play 7 minutes in heaven!”

famous last words. tenya felt his heart sink as he watched his classmates whoop and cheer, agreeing with denki’s obvious ploy to get some action in a way that nobody could make fun of him for.

kirishima grabbed the giant bottle of sprite he had been nursing and chugged it, letting out a large burp at the end, “now we have a bottle to spin!”

although iida was usually not one to participate in these kinds of games, he decided to step out of his comfort zone for the night. after all, you were there and the statistical odds that he would get to kiss you would be higher if he stayed.

he almost did a spit take as you smiled at him, “hey, maybe we’ll get paired off together.”

unfortunately, there was no time for him to respond to you as jirou turned the bass boosted music down and everyone arranged themselves in a lopsided circle around the empty soda bottle.

unfortunately, there was no time for him to respond to you as jirou turned the bass boosted music down and everyone arranged themselves in a lopsided circle around the empty soda bottle.

“everyone knows the rules right?” asked mina, and a chorus of yeses and mhms flew through the air.

“alright so who’s going first?”

iida was terrified out of his mind.

he was never one to believe in what he deemed to be silly superstitions, but he wholeheartedly believed the bottle was sentient and picking people on purpose.

due to his unlikely friendship with mina, he knew who was interested in who and he watched in disbelief as everyone was given a shot with their person of choice. and they all looked different when they came out of that utility closet, hair messier than before, faces flushed, some even sporting marks that told the rest of the class everything they needed to know.

“dude, are you paying attention? you’re up!” denki’s voice rang out, snapping iida out of his overthinking loop.

“uhhh, i think he drank some of the spiked punch you guys..” whispered sero and mina nudged him in the stomach hard, making him double over with a loud oof.

“i told you guys to pay attention to who was getting what. now hes gonna have an aneurysm that he broke the school rules!”

ignoring them, he turned his sights onto the sprite bottle. did he really want to do this?

before he could even answer the question for himself, kirishima spun the bottle again and his eyes followed it as it spun around, around, around, landing on… you.

the whoops and cheers from his peers, and the knowing glance from mina, meant nothing to him in this moment. he was nervous, not even sure if it was real, that the universe had even given him such an opportunity to be so close to you. alone. for 7 minutes.

“alright you two, into the closet you go! watch your head iida its a bit of a tight fit,” kiri laughed and iida felt his body move of its own volition, barely even looking at your face as the two of you walked in and the door was shut behind you.

he reached up to adjust his glasses, staring at a random point on the floor as you stood on opposite sides of the compact room in silence.

“we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” you spoke up, breaking the tension and making iida really look at you for the first time since the bottle landed on you. you seemed more down to earth under the dimmer lighting, adjusting your hair and fidgeting with your clothes a bit as you anticipated his response.

“well i-”

“like if you dont want to kiss me, if you were hoping for someone else, i mean, i completely respect that,” you stared at your shoes. why did i say that? you thought as you continued to be met with silence.

tenya was confused. hoping for someone else? so you couldn’t tell how much faster his heart was beating, how his palms were soaking through every single item of clothing and how his ears were practically glowing? oh.

“why would i be hoping to be paired with someone else?”

your heart stopped at his pseudo confession. where do you go from here? does he want to kiss you? was he just being nice? his face lit up more as your eyes raked over him, trying to figure out his angle.

“do you want to kiss me, tenya?”

straight to the point. iida wanted to answer you, he really did but anything he had planned to say died on his lips. his mouth felt terribly dry and he almost resembled a dying fish as he gawked at you.

“am i… your first kiss?”

he was caught. he swallowed and nodded, bracing himself for the onslaught of giggles and teasing, but it never came.

you gathered his hands in your own, smoothing over his knuckles and calming his trembling heart.

“its ok, i don’t have much experience either, but if you want, we can try it together,” you declared softly.

his heart squeezed at your sincerity, excited at the prospect of his cheezy daydreams becoming a reality.

“a-alright. let’s give it a try.”

moving closer to him you cupped his cheek, bringing his face close to yours.

“go slow,” he whispered and you nodded before slotting your mouth against his. you could feel his inexperience, you were the only one actually doing any kissing, but after a few moments, he parted his lips and began to kiss you back.

it was a soft kiss, nothing too risque, but you felt like your entire body was on fire. his hands tentatively snaked around your waist as you kissed him deeper, completely forgetting your surroundings. iida tried to pull away and took a step back, knocking into a mop bucket and almost falling on his ass.

you broke away from him, laughing as you held him up. his smile was so genuine as he laughed, rosy cheeked partially from embarrassment, but mostly because you just kissed him and he kissed you back.

“so…”

“so…”

“i apologize for my bluntness, ____, but… can i kiss you again?”

you eagerly obliged the shy boy, tangling your hands in his hair and kissing him with more intensity. by the second time around, iida had gotten his bearings and understood the general idea around kissing, so it was fun for the both of you.

neither of you noticed the click of the doornob turning or the disbelieving murmurs coming from your class as they watched the two of you make out.

��holy shit, i didn’t know you had it in you class rep,” bakugo smirked, eliciting giggles from the rest of the class as you two realized you were being watched.

iida’s face rivaled kirishima’s hair in hue as he practically jumped away from you, glasses fogging up in embarrassment.

you ignored everyone’s jests and grabbed his hands, intertwining your fingers and sitting with him at the other end of the couch. you turned your head to see mina giving you a huge smile and a thumbs up and you smiled back, giving tenya a kiss on the cheek and cuddling into his side.

[zegumi]

hq boys as songs - hcs

gn reader I sfw I fluff I angst

characters incl: tsukishima, hanamaki, bokuto, oikawa - weird mix ik

an : I really like associating songs with anime characters, it’s kind of a problem now so I'm going to give haikyuu characters a song on how i think falling in love with them feels. also slight manga timeskip spoilers but not even

tsukishima kei: apocalypse - cigarettes after sex

i think falling in love with tsukishima happens naturally, you don't really have to think about it - it just is. at first you don't really realise, but when your heart starts to flutter a little when his fingers brush yours or when your eyes seem to hang on to each other a little longer. you realise that there simply can't be another explanation.

but he's too scared to commit to you, just as he is with anything else, you thought just maybe you were different, maybe just once someone will put you first.

so all these hidden kisses and stolen stares, as much as you love them you know that you'll never be more

you've got the music in you, you're the song, but he's too scared to listen

hanamaki takahiro: stargazing - the neighbourhood

oooh baby u take me on a ride

falling in love with him feels like when you're stuck in traffic late for whatever but your favourite song comes on the radio and you know all the lyrics

hanamaki feels like he peaked in high-school, the one time he felt like he knew what to do in his life. now he's lost, in and out of jobs but you seem like the one thing that's able to ground him.

he feels as though no matter where he goes in life you'll always be the one thing he can turn back to

both of you are always looking for signs, something to guide you onto what to do next but you fail to see whats right in front of you - eachother

just listen to the song and tell me it doesn't scream hanamaki

bokuto kotaro: best friend - rex orange county

i listened to this song for the first time and all i could think of was bokuto

fun dates while its dark to the amusement park, screaming your hearts out on a drive to the grocery store, morning where you guys are dancing in your underwear while you impulsively bake a pizza.

love with bokuto is never boring, its always a new adventure every other day

you're his biggest fan at his games, cheering him through his highs and lows, whether he fails or succeeds every single time you'll always be there

although you should be searching for confidence within yourself he gave you that extra boost to become the person you love today

he will forever be your favourite boy

oikawa tooru: get you - daniel caesar

i'm surprised i haven't written for oikawa yet. this song is so fkn good but everything by my love daniel is

oikawa is a lady's man we all know that but you, oh you how you caught his eye. the way you looked at him while he talked, never pushing away his issues or calling him annoying when he begins to ramble abt his nerdy obsessions

he never thought you'd love him back but when i tell you this man was screaming when he found out. he'll try to play it off cool but if only you knew how soft you made him inside. and if only he knew how alive he made you feel and how being with him always just felt right

who would've thought he'd get you

i think i'll do a part 2 bc theres some more characters i want to do plus this is so fun

reblogs are appreciated <3

requests are open

[wolfpants]

Would you ever consider writing a story/scenario where Remus cheats on Sirius (perhaps he’s unaware of them being together- friends with benefits situation, or self-destructively wants to ruin a good thing)? I read your other fics, which are so lovely and especially love Heal Your Shrinking Soul. You are such a talented writer. 💗💗

Hello there! Thank you so much for your kind words, especially re: Heal Your Shrinking Soul which might be the oddest thing I've ever written!

Okay, now this is an interesting prompt indeed and I'm going to store it away in my little coin purse of prompts (which, by the way, is looking a little empty you guys - please continue to send prompts my way!). I'd definitely be interested in exploring something like this, I do enjoy writing angst and exploring morality/guilt/perception/psychology (but if you also know me, you'll know I'm a hopeless romantic and I can't seem to write a story with a sad ending). So I'm going to ponder this for a while and I'm sure I'll be able to come up with something. I'm erring toward FWB because I haven't explored that yet and I think it could be fun. x

[fuckingfuckityfuck]

Don't Blame Me

A/N : First ever OC x Negan fanfic and I hope y'all love it as much as I had fun writing it.Excuse my mistakes since I haven't been feeling fine today but this just came to my mind.This will be short because I already have written the next chapter that I'll post tomorrow.

Pairing/s: Negan x Scarlett (OC)

Warning/s: Angst,violence,mentions of suicide and rape,cussing.

After the war between Negan and Rick had taken place,Scarlett was a lone survivor.She never believed in numbers,that it was just a weakness.

After losing her mother and sister during the apocalypse,she told herself that it'd be the last time she'll lose someone close to her.

What will happen if fire meets fire?

Grabbing my survival knife from my thigh,I quickly moved behind a tree and waited for the walker to come.A loud snap of twigs caught my ears.Stupid motherfuckers.

"Shit,shit,shit," A loud raspy voice whispered.What the fuck?I squinted my eyes,trying to look where the voice might come from.A black leather jacket caught my eye and a bloody bat covered in barbed wire.Definitely not a walker.I thought.

"Raise your hands"I said,pulling out my gun.I've already hidden my knife just in case this person tries anything.

"Holy fucking shit,doll,you scared the hell outta me here" The tall man said,his hands were on the air,waving and trying to explain.

"I am not the bad guy here,doll,I saw you earlier and I thought maybe you needed some help"He explained.

"I certainly do not need anyone's help as you can see,I'm fine being on my own" I said,not even bothering to lower my gun.He looks like danger itself.Well,he wears a leather jacket for a damn reason.

"Look,doll,I'm not even gonna try anything on you.So if you can just get that damn thing off of my face." He said,while taking a step towards me.I took a step back and shook my head as a sign.But his eyes look so sincere.What the fuck am I even saying?

"How about you tell me why you're all alone in the woods?And why follow me?I want an honest answer,that way,maybe I can trust you" I said and he nodded.

"That's a lot but I'll try." He said and started to tell me that he was in a group before.They had a place and it was secured.And then they came across this other group and a war happened between them.They lost and that's why he's alone.From what I can see,he looks like he's telling the truth.At some point,his eyes turned glassy.

"How about you,doll?You haven't even told me your name?" He asked and I motioned for him to sit down as I did too.

Turning to face him,I gave out a sigh."The name's Scarlett.Like you,I was in a group before and I also lost important people in my life.That's the reason why I chose to be alone,I don't want to have that kind of relationship with someone and just have it taken away from me by those things."

"I'm Negan" he said and he flashed me a toothy smile.I smiled back and nodded.I lowered my gun and put it on my holster.

"You have other weapons?I mean,that's pretty creative of you." I said and pointed to his bat.

"Yeah,I named her Lucille,after my wife." He said,not even looking at me.

"Looks cool to me.I have a camp that I have set up,it's not far from here.Do you want to come with me?"

Negan looked at me for a second before smiling.I rolled my eyes and fixed my bag.

"It'll be rude of me if I didn't accept your invitation." He said.He stood up and carried his bat.

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