#but. like. no matter What angle u look at him at i just cannot see him as a straight man i'm sorry but my gaydar goes nuclear around him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trashlie · 1 year

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ILY FP 231

ALRIGHTY KIDS WHO’S READY FOR STALKYOO WEEKEND WHO’S READY FOR ME TO TALK NONSTOP ABOUT ILY AND TENSION AND FEELINGS AND EXECUTION AND SUBTEXT I’M RARING TO GO picture me frothing at the mouth rattling the bars of my cage because that’s been me and that WILL remain me!

Look I’m about to choke out 246 different posts but I’m going to do my best to try to keep this one on topic... but we know how I get so uhhhh. Brace yourselves lmao

This episode is just CATNIP for me, and I know I keep saying that but forgive me, everything we’ve been getting in these arcs is jus tailor-made, it’s the stuff I feast on, it’s got me scurrying up walls like a lil lizard chewing on the rafters shrieking like a banshee. I am FED and I am addicted and I WANT MORE!!!!!!!

Nana + Shinae is just unhinged chaos I was completely unprepared for and getting to see them play out more in this episode is a HOOT. I say this with affection, but I am SO GLAD she’s not MY grandma cos WOW I, too, would be so embarrassed. (Actually she reminds me a lot of my mom, pls understand the embarrassment I have endured at her hand!) Shinae and Nana bonding over their mutual dislike for Rand was SO funny - like oh shit wait you don’t like that old geezer OR that witch? Oh you have TASTE (also there’s a subtle little... dig if we want to call it that “Oh I like this one” [eyes]). All the while Nol just sits by watching with that EXPRESSION LMAO

In fact, all of Nol’s expressions are SO funny and SO good! I cannot get over his deeply mortified blushing when Nana called the headband his “comfort headband” and pretty much aired that he was so upset that he was fiddling with it lmao LIKE COME ON (BUT ALSO HER INSINUATIONS? NANA U NASTY FREAK LMAOOOOOOO implying he’d done something unholy with it I SIMPLY CANNOT) His expression as he fucking!!! Throws!!!!! His blanket over her with his lil eye buggin out? PURE COMEDY I LOVE IT

But obviously the meat and potatoes of this episode is the Shinae Nol confrontation - and the elephant in the room. Nol says so much while saying so little - the subtext is off the charts and it’s INSANE to me that they are just.... confessing between the lines lmao

Let me get this out of the way, my favorite point to yell about: Nol cannot resist Shinae. He tries and he always fails. He is so weak in the face of her - and now he finally understands why. She doesn’t seem to realize it, but she manages to elicit truth out of him, she keeps him rooted to the spot. He’ll purposefully distance himself from her - angle away, sit away - but he still ends up angled in towards her, drawn in. She gets to him in a way that, as far as we can tell, no one else can. It’s what made it so difficult for him to actually part with her - why he stumbled and clutched her before he finally snipped the cord, why he had to block her and when she got around that (her message in his spam) he had to drown it out with alcohol. Her gravitational pull on him is so great and he is now aware of it.

I think he did have every intention to talk to her. Maybe he wasn’t going to be as open as we hope. He seemed like he wanted to at least try to clear something up. But his tune completely changed after she brought up Dieter, after she made him realize that Dieter saw it all, that he knew what Nol knows. Ngl I find this simultaneously funny and frustrating because it DOES put them in such a precarious position and Shinae is just SO unaware of it yet!!!!

Nol knows that when it’s just them, things cease to matter. It’s the way he phrases things - like how he talks about when they thought everyone was asleep, because it was that cloak of secrecy that allowed him to be so bold. It was the belief that the whole world was asleep and they were alone in their bubble, no thoughts, nothing else, acting on their whims. He knows he made a move on her, and he knows it was intentional, and it would never have happened if Dieter and Soushi were awake. But that’s the thing about when Nol is alone with Shinae - he seems to forget everything else. She disarms him and he acts on his whims.

The range of his expression is so good here - going from guarded and cautious to the moment he’s putting the dots together and he closes his eyes and screws up his face. Nol isn’t an asshole - he knows what Dieter must be feeling, what it must be like to have witnessed that, to listen in on that. Shinae may not have processed how loaded it was, but Nol can see it easily from Dieter’s perspective.

And here’s the thing about Dieter, too. He’s not a fool, he knows what he’s up against. I don’t mean it in that he’s competing with Nol, really, but we know he compares his relationship with Shinae to other peoples’ relationships with her. We’ve seen him voice his insecurity to Minhyuk - that he doesn’t have with her what Nol does. When he told Shinae she loves Nol, he obviously meant it as a friend, the way he does - but I still think he was voicing a fear that he already had in his heart. Like Nol, though, Dieter isn’t good at resisting Shinae, and he lets his hope build up when he knows better. Dieter knew he was playing with fire.

That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though - to basically have it confirmed almost behind your back. Dieter can see it for what it was - not just the way Nol was acting, the way he looked at her, the way he literally put the moves on her lol but it was the way she received it, the way she flusters under his gaze. It was how she stayed at his side the whole time, how her concern for him outshines her need for sleep or food.

Nol’s guilt is SO strong, it permeates this episode, but I think it’s also very much twisted with his fear. It’s easier to use the guilt, to frame around that, because in his mind he fucks things up all the time, he makes things worse, his existence creates more problems. I love that Shinae calls him out on the fact that it’s not his fault that his plan to get her and Dieter together didn’t work because it’s true. While he’s not wrong to some degree - pushing Dieter and Shinae to be friends does kind of prolong the pain, at the end of the day, they all make their choices. Dieter chose to collect those moments with Shinae knowing they were supposed to be strictly platonic, everything as friends. Shinae still chose to confide in him, to open up, to let him in. Just because Nol pushed the friendship it doesn’t mean they had no agency in the matter.

But obviously the real issue is not that he pushed them, that it draws out the pain for Dieter. It’s that he did all of that and in the end, he was the one who hurt him the most. It wasn’t that Shinae didn’t reciprocate - it was that Nol has feelings, too.

Now, I want to make a point here that I’m sure we’re all on the same page about. No one is really “at fault” here. It’s not like anyone has done anything wrong. Sure we can argue that Shinae has gotten Dieter’s hopes up unintentionally. Sure we can argue that liking someone your friend likes is bad. But human feelings are messy and don’t exist in a vacuum of good vs bad. The whole thing about dibs is so gross in general - it denies someone agency and instead rests on those who like them. Is Nol a bad friend for falling for someone his friend also likes? Is Shinae a bad person for falling for the friend of the guy who likes her? Obviously there are things that need to be cleared up - she needs to sort out her feelings for them, but the point remains. No one is at fault.

But that doesn’t mean Nol won’t feel guilty, won’t feel like an asshole for finding a new way to hurt the people he cares about.

I know this sounds crazy but I kind of lmao like the way he told Shinae she needs to go, that “You can’t be here alone with me any longer.”

Nol has acknowledged his role in this. He acknowledges the way he deliberately hurt Dieter, even though it wasn’t his intention. And what’s more is what he’s not saying - the subtext. That she can’t be alone with him because they will continue to say and do things that will hurt Dieter, that will create more pain. Nol knows how easily Shinae can disarm him if he’s not vigilante. All it takes is her bringing him ease again, him falling back into that comfort, forgetting the rest of the world, acting on it again.

There’s something that feels so urgent about it? Intense? That she NEEDS to go because he doesn’t have the willpower any more. That he’s trying REALLY HARD to be a good person, a good friend, but it’s so difficult. He says it every which way besides with words, and if you read between the lines he’s practically screaming it out loud.

I actually think he’s handling it pretty well, even if it doesn’t clear things up for Shinae in the moment. He’s acting on Dieter’s behalf - but also on his own. And hers. Shinae needs to come to the conclusion he has and it’s not for him to tell her. Part of why it’s so easy for Shinae to let herself feel that way with Dieter is because she knows he likes her. He’s safe and comfortable. Had he never confessed would she think anything of the way he looks at her? Would she think anything of the comfort he brings her? But because she knows, it has affected her view. I don’t say that like it’s a bad thing, because we all respond to people based on how they feel about us, I think. But if Nol were to speak those words out loud, if he were to tell her “it’s because I like you!” how would it make her feel? Would it influence what she thinks about him? Surely it would!

Nol is trying to get Shinae to come to the same realization he has, and more so, he’s trying to get her to be clear about her feelings. Do you like me or not? Do you act this way with everyone? He sees the way she gets flustered, he knows the effect he’s got on her. He’s probably sure she reciprocates those feelings and hasn’t figured it out yet - but there’s still a shadow of a doubt. There’s still the fact that maybe he’s reading into it, maybe he’s seeing something that isn’t there. Maybe she’s someone who cares about him and he’s misread it because he’s so desperate to matter to someone, anyone.

Look we all know better, but we also know how doubts persist!

There’s so much ANGST but it’s SO good! It’s not angst for the sake of angst, it’s not drawing something out just to make the story last. Nol’s expressions cause me PAIN, Shinae’s make me ACHE. He feels like a guilty asshole, he wants her to go, but he can’t even look at her and say it - he looks away, his mouth set in that way holding back all the things he believes he should not say. Honestly they are so good at hurting each other ;______; it hurts ME, too!

But also, I get it. I’m with Nol here. How can he bear to look at her when he’s pushing her away again? How can he bear to look at her when it’s all his fault (according to him). He can’t even look at her when he tells her Dieter was awake the whole time. It’s such a loaded statement but unfortunately it doesn’t QUITE land because Shinae can’t quite grasp the significance.

Actually this whole part is both so funny and so unbearable to me lmao because Nol is all but saying that Dieter oversaw them having a very non-platonic moment and she’s like i don’t get it why’s that a big deal LMAOOOOOO ;____; Nol is going THROUGH it okay! She keeps insisting that it meant nothing, that it’s just friends, what’s wrong with that. And Nol can’t come out and say the truth - that it looked romantic that it felt romantic, that he meant all of it and that’s why it’s so wrong. The whole time he’s trying to get her to understand WHY that hurts Dieter and she’s just hurting him at the same time LMAO OUCH

I LOVE those panels where we can’t see their faces - where it’s Nol’s frustration and anguish that she doesn’t get it, that he’s trying, that he feels awful because of course those feelings are still there why wouldn’t they be. His frustration, the faint lines on Shinae’s face.

Maybe it’s there at the back of her mind - something faint, something distant. Maybe for a moment she understands what Nol isn’t saying, the implications of what Dieter oversaw, overheard. But if it, she doesn’t acknowledge it at all.

Nol’s hand over his face in frustration, that panel where we close in on his eye and Shinae says “You’re not intentionally trying to hurt him!” But... he is. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt Dieter - but he IS intentionally doing things that hurt him. And he still wants to! That’s the thing, that’s why he needs her to go. It’s so easy to fall into that, to act on that, to forget Dieter exists and instead indulge a little. It may not be his intention to hurt Dieter, but it’s his intention to do things that WOULD hurt him, and she doesn’t get it.

But GOD lmao the way she just starts to rub salt in the wound!!!!! “Whatever he thinks is just a misunderstanding. There’s NOTHING going on here!”

In ILY universe, nothing is always Nol. There is Nol going on here.

And look, I feel for him here, a LOT. This must be SO hard!!!! Not just the pushing her away, not just knowing he hurt Dieter, but having this whole conversation, her not getting it, her taking a moment that clearly meant SO MUCH to him and saying it meant nothing. Again, there’s so much that is LOADED when she says “We’re all friends here!” and he says that resolute “No”, his eyes hidden from us, his hands firm on the wheelchair.

Shinae misconstrues it as no, we aren’t all friends, but what Nol means is that no it’s not just friends. It’s two different people who like her a lot. It’s knowing he acted on something that hurt his friend. That moment wasn’t platonic, wasn’t just friendship - not for him. Clearly she’s unready to see it, but he knows it. No. We’re not friends here - we are people who like you so very much.

GOD, THE ANGST, THE ANGUISH. I AM SWINGING FROM THE RAFTERS I’M HOOTING.

I LOVE the moment he says he can’t take this - he can’t keep having this conversation, can’t take being shut down like this, can’t handle her downplaying a significant moment. If she wants to tell herself it was nothing but to keep reiterating it to him? Unbearable! But also I LOVE that Shinae stands her group and puts her foot down, I love her calling him out because like I get it! I understand both of them. She’s had no time to process any of this, all she knows is she wants him to stop pushing her away, she wants him to stop boxing her out, she wants him to be OPEN.

In a way, they are fighting for the same thing, but they keep obstructing each other. They want the same thing but they’re speaking in different languages. He WANTS her to see it - that it wasn’t a platonic moment, that he meant it that it matters that their fingerprints are all over it. He wants her to see what Dieter saw. She wants him to show himself, to open up, to stop hiding, to be vulnerable. They are trying SO HARD to get the same thing, but they just keep butting heads and getting in each others’ way.

AND WHEN SHE TELLS NOL THAT SHE’S NOT NOT INTERESTED IN DATING DIETER? OH MY /GOD/ lmao alkjfkjafkjafkjafkjja alfjakfjj SHRIEKS

Not ONLY has she basically downplayed this whole romantic moment, downplayed whatever is transpiring between them but she goes on to say SHE’S NOT NOT INTERESTED IN DIETER?! LMAOOOOOOOOO Again I reiterate no one is at fault here!!!!!! But lmaooooo the OUCHIES of this whole conversation! Isn’t it bad enough that she says it was nothing it doesn’t mean anything, and then she goes on to be like I mean i don’t totally NOT not like him idk..... LMAO

He’s clearly frustrated both in trying to get her to understand what he isn’t voicing, but also because he seems like such a resolute person? Or at least, he tries to be. I assume it’s kind of like... he realized he likes her and that’s it. It’s not that he thinks he might like her, it’s not that he might have some feelings. He knows he’s all in, all feelings, all eyes on her. And she appears so wishy washy - flirting with him but doesn’t acknowledge it, unintentionally stringing Dieter along and igniting that hope.

And the thing is she isn’t doing any of this maliciously. She’s tried to be clear with Dieter! It’s not her fault that he keeps getting his hopes up. She’s had no time to process her feelings for Nol, has had no experiences to compare any of this to. I love this conversation between them because it illuminates how little Shinae knows about feelings, about love, about romance. She hasn’t let anyone in in a long time, has guarded herself so tightly, and now that she has, how is she to understand the ways they affect her, what their significance means?

It’s easy to see why she keeps trying to box her feelings about Nol into a box they don’t fit. Of course she cares, of course she worries, that’s what friends do. It’s not that she cares, though - it’s why. Does she care as a friend or does she care as something else? That’s what he’s trying to get her to answer - and I think he got close. But she needs to distance herself from the night, too. She needs to dwell on those feelings - and not just the intensity of trying to hang on to him, but the other feelings, too. The butterflies, the fluttering, the fluster, the way she can’t meet his gaze, the way she starts to fluster if he looks at her for too long.

Someone said that Shinae is practically confessing to Nol and doesn’t even realize it and my god they’re right lmao. The way Shinae argues back that she knows Nol didn’t like it when she left after they danced, that she knows he was bummed, can you really throw all that away what we’ve been through, how effortless we are? lmao SHE REALLY JUST. Goes on saying it!!! AND SHE DOESN’T RECOGNIZE IT FOR WHAT IT WAS.

(I mean she did a whole damn love soliloquy in front of Minhyuk for Nol so like. It’s been an all night thing lmao)

Also it hurt when Nol admits that Dieter doesn’t have that with Shinae - not even as her friend. Even if she does not not want to date him, even if a part of her DOES like him - does it compare to what she feels about Nol? Does it compare to what he means to her? He can’t look her in the eye, and even as she tries to play it off, to say hey all friendships are different does it really matter SHE can’t meet his eye.

Consciously Shinae may not be aware of it but on some level she must know. On some subconscious level, that ghost of a thought passes by, a faint wave of shame. She doesn’t share with Dieter what she shares with Nol. It’s true that there’s something there, but it’s something she’s avoiding, something she consciously cannot face yet.

BUT LISTEN, MY GOD. NOL ASKING HER WHY SHE CARES /SCREAMS JUST SCREAMS ALJKFKJAFJKAFLJ AFJALJJAF AFJAKFJFA

He’s pushing!!!!!!!!!!!

I love that Nol is a ball of contradiction. He wants Shinae to acknowledge what he isn’t saying out loud, he wants her to realize that it means something to him, that there are feelings, that it’s not platonic, and he wants her to acknowledge so she understands why he’s pushing her away. But I think he also wants her to admit it herself. Confirm what he suspects. She fights SO hard but she can’t say why. She cares so much but she can’t elaborate.

Convince me.

LKJFKJAF LAJFKAJFA F /SCALES THE WALLS PARKOURS ACROSS ALL THE ROOFS IN THE NEIGHBORBOOD.

He knows. HE KNOWS. Convince him he’s wrong. Convince him it’s not what he thinks. Convince her that her extent of care of need her desperate desire to keep hold of him to make him show himself to her to be vulnerable with him is platonic. Convince him.

AND SHE CAN’T!!!!!!!!!

Again, she averts her gaze! Again, she flusters and blushes. Again he disarms her just by looking at her and he takes advantage of the moment to finally kick her out.

GOD WHAT AN EPISODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I JUST WANNA BARK BARK BARK WOOOOF RLKJJKJ RRRRGGHHR RRRRHGHGHG LDKJC YIP YIP YIP

IT’S SO GOOD. THE SUBTEXT, THE EXPRESSIONS, THE DANCE AROUND THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM, THE ANGST, THE EMOTIONS.

And no matter which standpoint you look at it from it’s just GOOD.

Nol feels guilty, like an asshole, he has hurt his friend. But more than that - it’s how he knows he can’t be alone with her, how he knows he can’t stop himself any more from acting on what he wants. He needs to PHYSICALLY remove her because that’s how little resistance he has, because that’s how much she gets to him, how much she affects him. It’s the way it hurts to have this conversation - where if he says the words out loud it makes them real and it becomes a weight she has to carry. If he can make her reach the conclusion on her own, maybe it won’t be so bad. He won’t have to deal with the pain if she doesn’t reciprocate - if she comes to the right conclusion and keeps her distance. If he says them out loud and she has to turn him down? He can’t handle that he can’t bear it. But at the same time, every time she denies that their shared moment meant nothing, that the way he looked at her, the way he treated her (HOW HE TOUCHED HER?????) was just platonic to him???? HOW CAN HE BEAR TO ENDURE THAT CONVERSATION?!

And it’s not that it means nothing - she just needs the space and time to process it, to really play out what happened. I think, too, on some level she IS subconsciously repressing it. Isn’t it scary? Especially because Nol is a person who comes and goes, who pushes her away and then shares these intense moments and then shoves her away again. What good is it to acknowledge what he means when she can barely keep a hold on him as a friend, when she can barely make him understand his significance. Nol and Dieter both are such good friends to her, people she can rely on, people who make her feel safe. Sure Nol may not make her feel secure all the time lmao but when it’s just them, when they’re lost in that little world, for the moment, he does. It’s scary, to think of losing any of that. All the relationships she’s ever been privy to have fallen apart. There’s no photos, no memories of her family as a whole unit. She’s seen what Rand and Yui look like. She’s got no experience of her own, and now that she has friends she loves so much, she’s too afraid to lose them.

How can she begin to dissect what Nol means to her when it makes him feel more fleeting? How can she begin to understand what exists between them is romantic when she’s never really witnessed a healthy successful romance exist?

The thing that makes friends to lovers SUCH a good trope, and why I love it SO MUCH is the stakes, the risk vs the payout. What if you take that step and it all goes wrong? What if you mess it up and you lose someone who is SO important to you, someone who means so much? What if all goes wrong and you can’t put it back together and you make something beautiful all wrong by getting your fingerprints on it and chipping the corners? You start to fear even the possibility because sure it could go well - but if it goes bad you lose it ALL. Everything.

But what is life if you don’t take some risks? Can you live with that regret, if you never take a chance, if you miss out on something you wanted?

That’s the thing about Dieter, isn’t it? He knows the risks. He knows he’s playing with fire, knows he doesn’t quite have with Shinae what Nol does. But he still tries. He still lets his unwavering hope go, even if it hurts him. He can’t ever say he has any regrets because he’s given it his all. Sure, it hurt a LOT and it’s going to, until he gets over her and can find a way to move on, but at least he tried. At least he made the effort and can say that he did his best.

It’s funny that Nol and Shinae stand in that place. She’s doing her best, she’s making an effort so she can’t regret not trying - but she just can’t see the full picture, can’t acknowledge WHY she’s fighting WHY she’s pushing. But Nol is the other part of it, the understanding, but also fear. It’s not just Dieter that stops him. If she continues to deny that it means anything, if she continues to say it was nothing.... that hurts. It’s bad enough to have feelings - but for the person you like to deny them? GOD. ;A;

At this point there’s a lot of conversations that need to be had, and i think I’m looking forward to (hopefully?!) seeing Nol and Dieter talk it out. I think as much as Dieter is hurt, I can’t see him as the kind of person who would stand in the way of his friends happiness. If they make each other happy, who is he to tell Nol to back off or something? Shinae is a person with agency who can make her own choices and if she comes to a realization that she reciprocates Nol’s feelings well.... he can’t really stop her just because she doesn’t like him. He’s not an incel alkfkjafjaf lmao I don’t think it’s the kind of thing that would make him hate either of them.

I’ve said it before but Dieter loves Nol, too, so he can understand why Shinae would fall for him. And likewise, as a person who likes Shinae, I’m sure he can understand how Nol would unintentionally fall. There’s a lot that’s happened between Nol and Shinae that Dieter doesn’t know about - the things that draw them together, that make them reach out to one and other. I think he can probably get that sense - there’s just SOMETHING ELSE there that isn’t with him and Shinae.

I like to think Dieter might encourage Nol, or at the very least perhaps tell him to stop pushing people away. That one of these days he’ll push and she won’t come back and can he really live with that? While Dieter doesn’t know as much as Shinae, he at least seems to have the sense that there’s a profound depth to Nol, that there’s a lot of pain (as evidenced between him and Kousuke) and that his life hasn’t been as easy as Yeonggi made it look, so maybe he, too, will what it means for Nol to open up, to really truly fall for someone who feels the same as him. Who is he to deny their happiness, just because it makes him hurt?

On the other hand, a part of me dreads Dieter and Shinae talking because WHEW BOY we know it’s going to hurt either way it goes. Will she deny her feelings about Nol, try to continue to write them off as friendship because it scares her, because she’s so afraid of losing him that she’s willing to swallow them down, because she doesn’t want it to get in the way? Even if she did, Dieter would see through it. I think now that he’s seen it, really seen it at play, he knows he can’t keep pretending. That’s why he’s distanced himself. If she were to try to play the card that it meant nothing wouldn’t he get more upset that she’s lying? God it just feels like a painful conversation ;___; And if she’s honest with him, if she sets him straight that she should have been clearer, that she hurt him, it just makes it hurt more AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

JUST AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

All that said, I love how good of a subversion of “why does my kokoro go dokidoki”. It’s not that Shinae is naïve - it’s that she’s inexperienced and scared. It’s that she hasn’t had the time to process, it’s that she has this mix of feelings that she’s had no time to sort them out and untangle them. For so long she held people at arm’s length and now her heart is too full! And because it’s subverting that trope, I don’t think we’ll see it drawn out for a terribly long time, and she’ll put on her big girl pants and try to make it right. Right now she’s afraid to rock the boat. She’s been hurt so many times by people, she doesn’t want to be the one who hurts others, she doesn’t want to be the one who inflicts pain. But I think when she realizes the truth, she’ll realize that trying to ignore it causes more pain, drawn out. That’s what Nol is getting at. That as long as she doesn’t definitively have feelings, it only hurts. It drags out Dieter’s pain every time he thinks there’s a chance. It drags out Nol’s pain, that she can’t sort out the feelings.

I love so much that Shinae cares about peoples’ feelings - especially because in the beginning she so badly wanted to believe she doesn’t care if people think she’s a bitch. She’s so empathetic and caring! But at some point we have to realize that avoiding a problem only makes it worse. It’s so much better to be up front and get it out of the way. Dieter won’t be able to heal until the wound stops getting ripped open. He WILL be okay, he WILL get over. But it won’t happen until she makes things clear.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS SO MANY FEELINGS I HAVEN’T EVEN TALKED ABOUT NOL’S RESOLVE BUT I’M SAVING THAT FOR A SEPARATE POST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS

#I Love Yoo #ILY Brainrot #ILY FP #ILY Spoilers #Stalkyoo #Shinae Yoo #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #Nol #Dieter Becker-Wulff #Shieter #WHAT MORE CAN I SAY I AM BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS OKAY I JUST HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS I WILL BE BACK TONIGHT WITH MORE THOUGHTSSSSSSSSS #gonna keep the tags short this time because i'm just completely feral RARRLKAJRJAJRRRRrr

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zhongliologist · 4 years

Text

Breeding Kink | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!!

Words: 4.6k

A/N: So uh yeah, this was mainly inspired by hcs from @genshin-spice!! thank you for the ideas sjkdha as well as the asks I have received! I decided to combine them into one fic bc im lazy i hope u like it jkasdha

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

It was in the dead of the night.

Zhongli breathed in; eyes dilated.

His study was quiet—yet all he could hear was his heart beat pounding violently against his chest and the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

He couldn’t take it.

In Zhongli’s mind was an image of you in positions you have never been before. He could see you on the bed as he pins you down, ass high up as he gripped on your waist until bruises form. He could see sheathing himself completely into you, reeling at the erotic sounds which escaped your lips as he roughly thrusts in and out.

The grip of his hand tightened, moving up and down his enlarged shaft. Zhongli grunted as he felt his digits grind on a particularly sensitive spot. It would’ve been better if it was your mouth instead of his hands.

“YN….! Nghh…!”

Ignoring his locks thrown askew by his movements, Zhongli continued to see you in his mind’s eyes. Precious, beautiful; more than any stone or gem in the world. He’ll spread you out, pleasuring you and worshipping your body with his tongue. In every turn, he would leave his marks, proving that you were his and his only.

“Ahh…darling…I just…want to…!”

He growled, speeding up the movement of his wrist. He could feel himself grow even bigger as scales begin to form on his skin, as his nails turn sharper.

Zhongli wanted you. He wanted to pound into wildly until you keen and clamp around him; until you become a staggering mess of moans and drool. You will be quivering as your orgasm washes over you, yet he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t the time to stop.

“Ughh….haa…! YN….! YN…! I’m close—!”

He’ll push even deeper, harder; making sure the tip of his cock reaches your womb. And that’s when he’ll release his warm seed into you, filling you up until his cum is dripping from your hole, until you were spent on the bed and still shaking from the intensity.

That’s not enough, Zhongli could sense something growl in him. Not enough.

You will be screaming with oversensitivity as he pushes inside you once more, his dick still hard as he keeps on going. You will be muttering his name ceaselessly as he fills you up, cumming inside you over and over again until you get pregnant with his child.

Yes.

The image of you on the bed, exhausted from his relentless pounding as cum leaks from your hole, surely pregnant with his child burned vividly inside his imagination. It sent an overwhelming surge of pleasure towards his cock; urging him to climax.

“Nnnh—!”

In one move, Zhongli orgasmed, his cum spurting to his stomach and clothes as he breathed in heavily. He tried to calm himself down yet the image of him cumming inside you was still so fresh that his excitement wouldn’t subside.

“…what is…this…?”

It seemed like his libido has peaked dramatically in the past few weeks. Normally, he could withstand not having any sexual activity for some time, especially when you were out of town, but for some reason, all he could think about right now was fucking you senseless.

He touched the scales on his arm. It also hasn’t escaped his notice how he would often show some of his draconic features in the midst of it all. There was only one thing that he could think of.

“Could it be…”

Wait. He hasn’t been in heat for more than a thousand years, and for it to appear right now is mind boggling to the say the least. But he could no longer see this at any other angle. It must have been triggered by your presence, in some way or another. The beast in him knew how he was madly in love with you, how he had taken you as his mate, and now it wants nothing but for you to bear him offspring.

Zhongli sighed. This is a matter that should be discussed first with you. Yet his heat is upon him and if it comes to it, he had to protect you even from himself. Zhongli sighed again heavily and gazed at the wedding ring on his left finger.

“It seems the need arises to arrange necessary measures.

“Please explain to me, in some way or another,” you started. “…why I cannot see my own husband in my own house.”

With brows furrowed and arms on your hips, you glared at the offending ‘guards’ loitering around outside the bedroom as they looked at you with a panicked expressions. There were a few familiar faces like QiQi, who was busy staring at nothing and Xiangling, who simply came to visit to deliver freshly cooked dishes from Wanmin Restaurant.

“Dr. Baizhu!” you called out when you were only met with silence.

Giving you a worried look, the doctor tried to calm the situation but to no avail.

“Look, YN…” the doctor hesitated. “Mr. Zhongli is under…certain conditions which makes it dangerous for you to go anywhere near him.”

You blinked, mouth frowning as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. “And what would that be?”

Travelling around Teyvat for quite some time, you had only returned to Liyue and to your husband (of a year and a quarter) today; and to be denied access to somehow greet and touch the person you had missed so dearly only irked your frustration. You were determined that the first thing you do when you return was to run straight into his arms, kiss him hard and talk to him about an important matter in both your lives, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor.

“Well,” Dr. Baizhu struggled to reply, as he was under the implicit instruction not to reveal the exact details. “All I can say is that it’s a condition where Mr. Zhongli wouldn’t be able to act properly around you. But please don’t worry, it’s not contagious and it’ll be over in a week or so.”

If anything, the vagueness only alarmed you. What illness could possibly make him lose control like that? Zhongli, as you knew him, was always someone who regarded himself with propriety and dignity. If this condition can weaken him like that, you were all the more worried.

“I…If that’s the case, then I really need to see him,” you insisted, now concern etched into your eyes. “I can’t just leave him alone like this.”

Stand firm, Dr. Baizhu. My wife is especially stubborn—he had been warned a few days before, dismissing it as something a husband would normally say about his wife, but now that he was face to face with that stubbornness he had been warned with, it seemed like he had underestimate you.

“YN…I…” he breathed in as he placed a consoling hand on your shoulders. “I would not recommend seeing Mr. Zhongli at this point—”

“Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right?” you interrupted. “I just want to see him.”

The doctor gazed down at you with an apologetic look, fully understanding why you were desperate in your request. You haven’t seen him for quite some time, and to find him sick and unable to see him when you finally returned—he could understand. He really does. That’s why, in the end, the doctor relented. He’ll face the consequences later on.

“Alright,” Dr. Baizhu sighed. “Just a peek and nothing more, got it?”

Upon hearing his words, your face brightened up in a flash. “Thank you, doctor!”

As he led you to the door of the master’s bedroom, you followed silently behind; watching as Dr. Baizhu unlocked the door from the outside—why would they need to lock it anyway, you thought—and pushed the door slightly ajar.

You pursed your lips.

In a breath, you knocked the doctor aside and went in as quickly as you could; shutting the door behind you as he protested from the outside. Apologies, Dr. Baizhu…!

Swiftly recovering from the sudden action, you noticed that it was dark inside; the windows shut and heavy curtains blocking any stray sunshine. The only source of light was the single glowing lantern at the far end of the room which only illuminated half of your face and offered a simple silhouette of your husband sitting on the bed.

You breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Right. I don’t really have much time, and I already duped Dr. Baizhu, so I’ll make this quick. I just want you to know that I’m back, and while I do have something I want to talk about with you, I’ll wait till this gets sorted out. So if you need anything, I’m right here—”

You halted; ears trained at the low growl you just noticed.

“…Zhongli…?” you asked, apprehension rising as you took a step forward.

“Why are you here?”

He finally spoke, yet instead of the sweet deep hum of his voice, this one was a lot harsher.

“What…?” you asked, surprised at his words. “I-I just wanted to see you…”

“You’re not allowed here,” Zhongli continued as he rose from the bed, his frame seemingly much taller that usual yet the darkness had hindered you from telling clearly. “It seems Dr. Baizhu has failed to stop you.”

Brows furrowed, you spoke with a waver in your voice. “Zhongli, what’s wrong…?”

In a bat of an eye, he was in front of you, pining you against the door with his lithe form. His clutches were firm but gentle enough not to hurt you as you felt him look closely at you. Daring your eyes to open, finally, finally, you could see him.

His usual warm amber orbs were now glowing golden, his pupils turned into slits. You could see scales on his skin and horns on his head as he grasped your wrists with his clawed hands. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t too surprised. Astonishment was an understatement of how you felt at that exact moment.

“Do you now see what is wrong?” he snarled at you, his eyes narrowing.

Taking in a gulp, you tried to calm yourself. This is still Zhongli, just different. You were used to the unusual things happening around him because of his status as an ex-archon, but this just takes the cake.

“Wha—why are you half….half dragon?!” you exclaimed.

He could feel him make a disgruntled noise as his grip on you tightened. “That is of no importance. You have to leave before I lose my sense of control.”

You glared at him, finally realizing that he was still the husband you knew; probably just a bit frustrated.

“No. Tell me exactly what’s happening Zhongli. It is my responsibility as your wife to take care of you, and I can’t possibly leave you like this without knowing the full extent of the problem.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue and closed his eyes, exasperated at your mulish behavior. Why can’t you just follow obediently? He was really weak against you; even more so at that exact moment.

You can’t hold his cheeks with your hands pinned but you at least tried to console the obvious turmoil inside of him. “I’m right here, love. It’s alright…you can tell me.”

In an instant, Zhongli conceded, melting at your presence as he nuzzled himself on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He always loved your scent; amplified by his draconic instincts, it was even more intoxicating.

“As a dragon, I am in heat,” he whispered just below your ear as you felt him smirk. “Are you still willing to help me out?”

Heat…?!

You immediately flushed at the implication of his words. Sex was no stranger in your relationship even before you became husband and wife, but for some reason, at the suggestion of Zhongli being in heat, you became bashful like a giddy schoolgirl.

“I-I…! Of course!” you replied despite the tumble in your voice. “I’m your wife, it’s only natural that we satisfy each other’s…er…sexual needs…”

Zhongli made a low chuckle as he allowed his lips to graze your skin.

“Have you understood what being in heat truly entails?” he replied, unable to contain the intensity in his voice. “This is not simply an act of making love. I will fuck you. And I will fuck hard, YN. Do you understand?”

It was incredible how his mere words were enough to make your legs shake and your lips quiver. His effect on you has always been like this, but for some reason, in his half dragon form, it had only became more powerful.

“Z-Zhongli…I—”

“This will be different from everything we did so far,” he interrupted you. “I will be rough and relentless. I will bite you and mark you that you are mine and mine only. I will not stop even if you tell me to. I will keep on pounding into you until your womb is full of my seed, and even then, I will not stop. I will breed into you until you become pregnant with my child. Do you truly understand?”

You bit your lip. His words were swirling in your head like a thick soup of lustful thoughts; pushing you into arousal. If he was meaning to scare you, then it had surely backfired.

“I do,” you replied, as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And I want you to do all those things to me.”

For a moment, Zhongli stared at you; speechless and totally caught off guard by your reply. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to agree at all. You were supposed to be frightened, freaked out by his monster-like appearance, but here you are taking up the challenge as if it was nothing.

He grunted as soon as he realized you weren’t backing off. He knew who he had married.

“There is no guarantee that I can control myself later on, YN,” he cautioned you one more time. “I have no wish to hurt you, my love.”

You smiled at him, loosening his grip on your wrists and gently caressing his face. “I know, and I trust you.”

With a sigh, Zhongli stood up straight and scooped you from your place. Carrying you on his arms, he then dropped you unceremoniously on the bed with an ungraceful plop. He gazed at you from above; the power of his eyes never waning.

Because of how dark it was, you have never noticed that he was naked all over. But with the light shining just to the side, you could see his dragon features much more clearly now—dark scales scattered all over his skin, golden horns on his head, sharp claws for hands and feet, as well a tail which was moving back and forth. Shifting your eyes downward, you promptly bit your lip.

You begin to feel apprehensive. It was natural that his dick is much bigger than his human form, but could that even fit inside you? Would you even survive after being fucked with that?

“Zhongli…um….just a moment—"

“You have been warned, YN,” Zhongli finally said as he crawled above you, never breaking eye contact. “I will no longer hold myself back.”

Pining both your wrists above your head, Zhongli cupped your cheeks and captured your lips in a harsh yet searing kiss. His tongue was immediately against yours, exploring your mouth and licking your lips which he had missed for so many months.

He had your breath knocked out of you immediately, as you struggled to keep up with the rapidly electrifying pace he had set. His hands were all over your body as he kept his lips close to yours as if he was trying to devour you. Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to be rough.

Like a rabid beast, he quickly made work of your clothes; ripping them open with his sharp claws as he jumped from your lips to your neck—his favorite place to mark you. He knew every sensitive pulse to suck and nip at; tongue and lips meandering at every dip and rise of the muscles on your neck. Soon enough, he had left it with dark splotches of color on his wake, keening at his handiwork as if it had satisfied the animal in him.

In the sea of silken sheets and two bodies intertwined, you arched to his touch, loving how his mouth descended to your breast, flicking his tongue at your pert nipple. You could feel waves upon waves of arousal as he assaulted you lavishly with his mouth and lips—making sure he worships every inch of your body.

“Z-Zhongli…!”

You could feel his horns touch your skin, his tail twirling around your leg to spread them open; ready for him when he crosses that bridge. It didn’t help how he kept on tracing your skin with the blunt side of his claws, fascinated at how your flesh dipped; at how he was only one push behind before he draws out blood. But you were becoming increasingly sensitive the more he kept on marking your whole body and it only served to add a distinct kind of pleasure from his mouth and tongue.

He was right, this was different from everything you had done so far. This was feral, animalistic and unrestrained. All his past gentle touches were gone, only to be replaced but such an intensity that kept you panting.

“I suppose it is time to get you ready for me.”

Releasing your wrists so he can spread you open, Zhongli gazed up at you as he tore off your underwear, tossing the offending fabric to some corner of the room. You both could see how drenched you were, with him smirking at you as he dipped. And just like he said, he didn’t hold himself back.

In an instant, his tongue was around your clit; sucking and licking at the sensitive nub. You arched on the bed, your hands on his horns as you tried to hide your lustful cries. He growled at you from below, the vibrations eliciting a novel sensation which only made you even more aroused.

“Zhong…li…p-please! Wait—”

You were rapidly getting lightheaded from the sheer pleasure of his tongue, your body shaking as he swiped up your cunt, saving every drop of your juices leaking out. He kept your legs open with his strong claws, making you unable to do anything but submit to his ministrations.

Since he couldn’t insert his digits in you, he pushed his tongue into your hole; the wriggling sensation making your eyes turn. It was incredible how he felt; face buried in your cunt as he kept on licking you like a starved man.

“Oh god….! Please…please! Zhongli! I’m close…! I—”

With toes curled, you shut your eyes tight as your mouth flew open for a loud moan. Each pulse of your orgasm engulfing you with pleasure as Zhongli went on without stopping; electricity running underneath your skin.

Just like that, Zhongli pulled away and straddled you between his legs. His burning feral eyes looking down on you as he pumped his cock right before your face. You knew what he was planning to do.

“Open your mouth.”

Unable to deny him despite how lightheaded you are, you opened your lips and slowly took him in, accommodating his large girth and trying not to choke. It wasn’t like this was your first time but you were sucking off a monster of a cock, and your mouth can only fit so much of it.

Twirling your tongue around the tip, you did the best that you could. You knew where he was most sensitive in and kept attacking those places with your tongue. Licking up his shaft and sucking on a prominent vein, you slowly began to enter a lull of arousal—all you could think of was sucking him off, loving how he grinds himself inside your mouth with a guttural groan.

With his claws gripping your head, Zhongli pushed even harder, making you deepthroat him and gagging at how forceful it was. He kept on fucking your mouth, his large dick hitting the back of your throat at every thrust. It seemed painful and it was, as tears streamed down your cheeks, but you were also getting off of it, your cunt once again drenched.

You loved how full your mouth was of him, how the pain and the pleasure melded together into an incomprehensible yet hedonistic sensation. He was rough but you loved it.

Suddenly however, Zhongli pulled out from your mouth, his cock bobbing on his toned stomach. He gazed down at you who seemed to have woken up from a trance with watery eyes and pre-cum stained face.

“That’s enough. I think you’re ready.”

Dazed, you could only watch as he returned to his previous position; rubbing his cock on your drenched cunt. Every time he touches your clit, you groaned in delight—your writhing figure only served to push him further into carnality.

Without any warning, he sheathed his dick inside of you in one sharp thrust as you cried out so loudly from the sudden stimulation. He was so thick and you were so full of him in an instant; your cunt quivering from almost cumming.

“Z-Zhong…li…! Nnngh!”

The image of you underneath him—back arched and face in pure ecstasy—Zhongli could no longer stop himself. You were clenching around him so tightly; the warmth of your folds urging him to fuck you senseless.

And he did. Pulling almost all the way out, Zhongli then pounded back into roughly; grunting at how you felt so good around him. He continued to thrust into you, setting up a rough and harsh pace as he chased his own high.

“You take me in so well, YN,” he whispered as he bent down, your leg hanging on his shoulders. “Hang in there, love.”

All you could feel was him inside you, grazing on your most sensitive spots; turning you delirious with pleasure. He was so big, stretching you to your limits and it felt so good as he kept with his unrelenting thrusts; your cries fueling him to push harder.

His lips were on yours once again; determined to have them swollen with his intense kisses. He had long been waiting for this—every night where he had only had his hand to relieve him; he would think of you in this exact position. But now that he could finally be one with you, he couldn’t help revel in the absolute bliss of your embrace.

With his mouth, he continued where he left off on your breasts; giving the pert nipples more attention with a little bite. You could only scream at the sudden stimulation as it paired perfectly well with his every violent thrust; once again nearing you to the brink of climax.

“Z-Zhongli….Zhongli…! Aah…please…I can’t! It’s…too much!”

“No…” he growled at you, his claws now on your hips, easily manhandling you as he kept on pounding again and again. “I won’t stop.”

Skin slapping against skin was heard all over the room other than your hoarse whimpers and his deep groans. Limbs trembling at the overstimulation, you could only grasp on the sheets as Zhongli pleasured himself inside of you.

You were close…so close to climax that it only took one harsh thrust for you to come undone; screaming and clenching around him like a vice grip.

In his eyes, you were so beautiful, so erotic as he watched your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. He can’t help but think of how you would look like filled up with his seed, how he would breed into you until you bear him children.

Zhongli immediately felt you tighten up; groaning as he also felt his own orgasm upon him. As the both of you connected glances, he pushed himself further into you, his pace becoming more erratic.

“Nghh…! Take my seed…YN…!”

He moaned as he shoved deep inside of you, his thick cock filling you up with his warm seed. You convulsed once again, loving the way he was cumming inside of you, your eyes seeing nothing but stars.

Breathing in an out, you tried to calm your wildly beating heart as he pulled out. You sighed at the sudden emptiness, already missing how he felt inside you. Trying to find his eyes, you were able to exchange glances as you laid on the bed, breathless.

However, he only returned your fucked out expression with a smirk, which only became more devilish with the slits in his eyes. He could see his cum beginning to leak out from your hole; the image like a drug in his system, sending him into overdrive.

“Did you think we’re already done?” he asked as he turned you around, your ass high up on the air. “That would hardly get you pregnant, my love.”

With those words, he plunged his still hard dick back inside of you who was keening at the sudden stretch.

“…mnn…Zhongli…!” you cried. “I…I’m still sensitive!”

He only chuckled at your protests. Leaning down, he took a bite of your shoulder, and then began to look on the indentations he left.

“Did you conveniently forget the fact that I am a dragon in heat?” he asked, leaving another set of love bites on your shoulder blades. “I will stop at nothing until you are filled to the brim with my seed.”

“…Z-Zhongli…wait…!”

Your husband once again moved roughly, his lips now busy with decorating your back with his marks. Tonight, you will be full of him—his scent, his marks, his seed—you belong to him and no one else.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly what he promised. Zhongli kept on fucking you over and over, and cumming inside you every single time. He seemed to have endless stamina, and kept on going for hours on end. The both of you tried every position possible—from you riding him to him fucking you on his lap—there was no respite.

It was when you heard the roosters crow and the bright singing of the birds that Zhongli finally stopped. Buried on stained sheets and throes of pillows, he finally collapsed beside you who was still trembling from your last orgasm—how many times was it? You had already lost count.

“Have you calmed down now?” you asked, still breathless as you felt him creep a hand around your waist to pull you into a tight snuggle.

Your husband hummed. “Yes. For now, that is.

“So there’s more?”

He kissed the nape of your neck now adorned by his bitemarks. “I did precisely tell you that I am in heat, darling. Heats do not last for a night.”

You sighed at his reply and then turned to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be ready then.”

With your words, Zhongli only chuckled, nuzzling against you. “It is still beyond me how you easily agreed. There is no doubt that you will be with child after this.”

A smile crept on your lips.

“Well, actually…that was what I was hoping to talk to you about,” you replied as you covered his arm with yours. “I was going to say I’ll be resigning from adventuring, and focus on finding work here in Liyue so that we can stay close like this.”

“Oh…” was all he could say as everything fell into its rightful places.

“It turned out quite better than expected, didn’t it?” you told him with a grin.

“It did,” Zhongli replied. “Now get some rest, we’ll continue once you wake up.”

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #s!ns

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crazygalore · 3 years

Text

GABRIEL MAY (MALIGNANT) NSFW ALPHABET

TW: mentions of dysmorphia, NSFW

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Surprisingly, Gabriel actually NEEDS it, after each lovemaking session - no matter how gentle or how rough he was with you. He’ll draw the both of you a hot bath, and help you wash yourself. If you return the favour, this boy will positively melt, and let out tiny noises that sound suspiciously similar to little purrs. Afterwards, once he has patted your dry with a fluffy towel and dressed you in your favourite pyjamas, Gabriel will carry you to bed, and place you under the covers. Then, he will bring your favourite snacks and beverage, to enjoy while you huddle together to watch a movie before falling asleep.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Gabriel could never pick just one thing he loves about you - because he practically worships you body and soul. You are infinitely beautiful in his eyes, and the fact that you love and accept him for who he is feels like a miracle to him.

Since he doesn’t actually have a body of his own, he expresses his identity though clothes that he wears, which are different than the ones owned by Madison. Although they’re not body parts per say, he sees his leather coat and makeshift gold dagger as extensions of himself, and he enjoys donning them whenever he takes over his twin’s body. He will, sometimes, remain fully clothed during sex.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

His pleasure is your pleasure, and he will make you cum as much as possible, if only to enjoy your desperate moans and whimpers.

Being transmasc and trapped his Madison’s body, he suffers from severe dysmorphia and doesn’t really enjoy being touched intimately. And, as stated HERE, he did communicate with his sister when the two of you decided to become intimate, because he felt like this specific situation called for his sister’s consent. She doesn’t have access to his memories regarding his sex life, though - which is for the best.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not a secret that he loves watching you pleasure yourself. The first time he witnessed it, you weren’t aware he was there, lost as you were in the act, so he quietly enjoyed the show from the door, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mangled mouth.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You are Gabriel’s first and only love, and the only person who ever saw him as a human being, worth of respect and adoration. So he doesn’t have that much experience, but he did his research and tried to learn as much as possible about the human body’s erogenous spots. That makes up for his lack of actual physical experience, at least most of the times. But since your guys’ relationship is based on trust, respect and communication, Gabriel is never ashamed to ask what works for you, and what doesn’t.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary, since he usually uses his mouth, fingers or a strap-on to pleasure you - and he wants to be able to look at your face, kiss your lips and hold you in his arms during sex. Gabriel is a very tactile person, and extremely touch-starved, so he actually NEEDS to be held, caressed and comforted. It’s the main reason why he enjoys making love to you so much, because the physical intimacy is something he’d never experienced before.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn’t say he’s particularly goofy, but he isn’t very stoic either. If anything awkward ensures during sex, he will try to make you laugh about it, so that you can relax and move on.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t actually have a private area of his own, and its pretty much Madison’s business as to how she grooms her nether region. He doesn’t actually care about those parts, since he never uses them.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very intimate, very romantic and very needy. As stated above, he craves physical contact, and he melts whenever you treat him with gentleness and affection. Hold him, kiss him, caress his scarred cheeks, and tell him how good he makes you feel, and Gabriel will be putty in your hands.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t actually partake in this act, as he doesn’t enjoy looking at, or touching the private parts of the body he shares with his sister. But sometimes, he fantasizes about what he would do to you, if he had a body of his own.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Gabriel is surprisingly vanilla, but he can be pretty dominant in the bedroom. He will pin your wrists above your head, as he fucks you into the mattress, or guide you into touching yourself, his voice a mere growl coming from your phone’s speaker. Knife kink, maybe, but only when it comes to cutting off your clothes. He doesn’t wanna hurt you, so unless you insistently ask him to, Gabriel won’t hold his makeshift dagger to your throat, or drag its blade across your skin. After all, he has other ways to let out his violent frustrations, so he feels no need to bring that to the bedroom. He was hurt by people who abhorred him, and he returned the favour years later. Love and violence do not cross paths in Gabriel’s mind.

Also clothed sex, because he enjoys wearing his leather coat and gloves, as he teases your naked body mercilessly.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere inside the house, but the bedroom is his favourite, because it’s more private and safe. Plus, he enjoys taking his time, so the bed is the most comfortable option when it comes to lengthy lovemaking sessions.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whenever you treat Gabriel with kindness and love, he will feel the need to bring you pleasure, and show you just how much he covets you. For him, sex is a means of expressing his affection for you - it’s an act of adoration and gratitude.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will NOT hurt you, ever, no matter how much you insist. You are the only person who has ever treated him right, and he cannot bear the thought of harming you in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Enjoys giving, and is very enthusiastic about it. This boy will eat you out for hours, and has become fucking expert at it. He knows just how to angle his face, and use his teeth and tongue to cause you maximum pleasure. Your taste is heaven to him, and your needy moans and whimpers are music to his ears. He will edge you, he will overstimulate you, he will play your body like a violin, using his mouth and fingers alone.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood. Slow and sensual is his go to, but he can be rough if you ask him to. But regardless of the pace, Gabriel is ALWAYS very passionate, and completely dedicated to your pleasure. Also, this boy is inhumanly strong, so he may end up becoming rough without even realizing it - but in case it becomes too much, all you have to do is tell him, and Gabriel will apologise and treat you more gently.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not opposed to them, but he prefers taking his time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s willing to try anything, so long as it doesn’t cause you any actual harm. Hickeys and faint finger-shaped bruises happen a lot, since he doesn’t always calibrate his strength properly all the time.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Oh, he could go on forever. Remember he experiences pleasure exclusively through you, so he never gets tired of it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Oh, yes, 100% a fan of toys, all of them meant to drive you utterly insane with pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The most unfair and maddeningly patient tease to ever walk this Earth. He will edge you until you’re crying and begging for release - and only then will he CONSIDER to maybe let you cum.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Low growls and muffled moans are the best he can do - although he may use your phone’s speaker to talk dirty to you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Gabriel really enjoys sucking on and playing with your nipples. And, yes, he has actually made you cum by solely teasing and fondling your chest.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

As I said, he uses a strap-on, which is just the right length and thickness to bring you maximum pleasure. In fact, the more I think about it, the more inclined I am to believe he consulted with you before buying it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I would say his sex drive is medium to low, so unless you initiate it - case in which he will be delighted to take you to the bedroom - he will rarely bring it up. But he does have his moments, when he simply craves your passionate embrace.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends. Sometimes he falls asleep as soon as aftercare has been performed, and sometimes he stays awake a little while longer, just to watch you sleep peacefully by his side.

#malignant #gabriel may #gabriel may x reader #malignant imagine #gabriel may imagine #malignant x reader #gabriel may headcanons #malignant headcanons #tw dysmorphia

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momiji-bookhouse · 3 years

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An Arm's Length Away [00]

pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x fem!reader

content: bodyguard!AU, reader uses she/her pronouns

words: 0.7k

a/n: my first Kazuha series! Reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated! I hope u guys will like this <3

Join the taglist | Masterlist

[Prologue]: A Distance Upheld

➺ Gossip, no matter how fleeting or trivial, is only one of the ways to remind you of your current status and reputation. A reminder for you to act how you are meant to.

No one can deny that Kazuha does his duty exceptionally well, despite them tilting their heads at his often nonchalant attitude and eyes that seem to gaze wistfully at the horizon, to somewhere or something far beyond their limited view.

For hidden behind said unfazed and composed bearing are ears that have been blessed by the guidance of the wind, hearing all the voices and sounds carried by the gentle breeze. Even if he does not act like it, Kazuha is alert and ready to act at the first whisper of danger.

It is an ability that has been with him ever since he was a child, an attunement to nature that could not simply be switched off by the snap of his fingers.

As such, as he walks down the corridor to your personal quarters, he cannot help but hear the early titterings of the servants walking the opposite direction as him.

"Is it true what they say about Lady (Y/N)?"

He subtly raises his eyebrows at the unfamiliar voice, ears unconsciously perking up at the mention of your name.

Kana, a servant that has been taking care of you ever since your arrival, quietly sighs. "Don't you think it's unwise to gossip about your charge on your first day?"

"But–"

Kazuha clears his throat, grabbing the attention of both of them. Next to Kana is a black-haired girl he has never seen before, who almost jumped out of her skin when she saw him.

"My apologies for the interruption, but it seems that I have not met you before," he says.

"Ah, Kazuha-san. This is Ayumi, she is a new servant that will be helping around the household starting today." Kana gestures to the girl. "Ayumi, this is Kazuha. He is Lady (Y/N)'s personal bodyguard."

"O-oh, it's nice to meet you."

"And I as well." He nods with a friendly smile. "I hope you will soon get used to working around here."

"T-thank you." Her cheeks color at the gentle smile on his noticeably good-looking face.

"Kana-san, is Lady (Y/N) awake?"

"Yes, and she is already dressed."

"Very well, then I best be on my way. I will see you around, Ayumi-san." He offers one last smile before striding off, leaving behind pairs of eyes looking at his retreating figure.

"Wow, he's so good-looking."

"Ayumi, if you're going to be distracted by a pretty face–"

"No, I'm just saying...Lady (Y/N) is so lucky to have someone like that by her side."

Kazuha stops at the shoji door that leads to your bedroom, already able to hear your light footsteps and the low humming on the other side. In his mind, he imagines you leaning on the windowsill, a soft grin on your face as you look out at the garden illuminated by the sunlight.

"She is a noble lady, Ayumi, and he is her bodyguard."

"I know that, but still, I wouldn't mind being protected by him."

Like every morning before, he calls for you before opening the door. "My lady, it's me Kazuha."

"Come in."

He slides the shoji door open and it is like his imagination came to life. You are standing by the window, eyes looking out to admire some plant or butterfly fluttering by. The grin is barely noticeable, less soft and more so having the edges of a nostalgia that borders on melancholic.

"Kazuha." You turn to him and he sees the sunshine being infused into your smile. "Good morning."

"Good morning, my lady." He bows at a low angle. "It's a fine-looking day, wouldn't you say? The sun is shining and the clouds stroll idly by. You can almost hear the birds inviting you to go outside."

"You think he heard what we're talking about?"

"Are we really talking about this again?"

"If I'm going to work here, at least I should know some things about my employers, shouldn't I?"

"...People say a lot of things about our lady."

"Yes, but I want to know–"

"Ever the poet." You walk towards him, your kimono swishing with your movements, stopping at a distance where you can see how the red color of his eyes fade into a sunset orange, but not close enough to see the golden sparkles in them.

He also makes no move to enter your room or close the distance, keeping his stance staunch and poised, hands clasp behind his back.

"Well, shall we begin the day?"

"–is it true she poisoned her own brother?"

Taglist: @annie315 @tigerpriestess @artificial-heartache @cyberllamaprofessoregg

#kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x fem reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #an arm's length away #momiji's collection

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mejomonster · 2 years

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Ep 5 done I still LOVE them

I will say: I like the unconventional couple setup, and I like that it's a comedy cause functionally it's Big Bad Evil Emperor xianxia type breaks out of prison (without anyone knowing) then immediately gets saddled with a spiritual plant/pet (a la Sifengs little pet snake he takes care of) he must learn to care about in order to make her strong enough to help him unfreeze his many soldiers

He feels what she feels, another reason to take care of her asap. Meanwhile she's getting treated caringly by Mr jailbreak and he's quite cute and earnest (from her pov) and she's having a frankly mostly nice time with the company

It's a romantic comedy in xianxia setting that just feels like a nice "they were roommates" plot with 2 character types I rarely see paired just forced to get along by circumstance (Big Bad and commoner spiritual plant turned fairy are not usually the main pair of these)

To top it off, Big Bad Daqiangs outfits are SO nice, i love the costume designer (I also love God of War guys clothes). The sets are quite usual xianxia but I appreciate the little unique details that make each particular set feel memorable to me (it's a small thing but the focus on the sky whales really made a nice standard cloud heavenly set look unique, the garden in the Arbiter does the same to an otherwise standard heavenly xianxia workplace etc).

Also the music is nice, the actors are good, the wigs and hair are serviceable (the white one was the best tho), the overall costume design is Niceee, and I actually really like lanhuas other "love interest" character. God of War guy seems genuine (seems like a younger brother to the leader, which is an interesting angle as usually God of War is older brother or something older with less to prove a la Eternal Love). By making him younger he has more expectations to handle and things to fear (kind of reminds me of poor Ye Hua in Eternal Love and the pressure he was under). This God of War being baby brother means he may be what enemies fear, but he fears even pursuing the girl he likes for fear he Cannot protect her or himself in that circumstance. I also love that due to his position, meeting lanhua 500 years ago and HER saying she'd PROTECT HIM is what made him smitten. Someone thinking OF HIM, CARING FOR HIM, seeing him as the person to protect instead of the person to use for your own protection. I totally get why he likes her, and acts distant, he's a genuine sweetie and his motives make sense. I am hoping he'll have an okay ending please (and also of course - bonus points that in this I can tell the Big Bad will be the endgame romance, a bold choice that still isn't usually done much... Xuanji being luohuo jidu was the last time I saw the Big Bad character type in a xianxia get to be one of the main romance couple who get a happy ending. Usually u see the Demon Darkness Type character and KNOW no matter how nice they're gonna get tortured and get a bad ending (rip the demon prince and princess in Eternal Love).

I also like daqiang a lot just as a guy? Many xianxia do a silent emotionless guy character (ye Hua was one although he felt a LOT intensely under the cold act). This guy is Genuinely emotionless mostly (he wiped his emotions in prologue, also yeah I guess that makes him the Xuanji/ashes of love heroine type but on Purpose) and so instead of feeling particularly cold, he just appears driven by his logical decisions toward his goals. As he hangs out with lanhua more we see he's got frustration as an emotion, maybe light anger (but it doesn't feel repressed when he calms down, more like he's prideful but also capable of remaining calm). At the whale scene in ep 5 he SMILES. And you can tell him helping care for a spiritual plant (now a fairy) is helping him get in touch with his own feelings again. Instead of feeling cold he just feels primarily CALM. Which I personally enjoy more than being a tsundere who does feel intensely but lies about it.

The god of war reminds me of shen wei with the burden on him I really hope he gets a good ending...

#love between fairy and devil #lb

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a-jynx · 3 years

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Expensive Taste; P2 [Male Vers.]

Excerpt; Happiness comes at a price, and it could be something you're not willing to pay...

Warnings; Cursing, mentions of dreamlands/derealization, gore, blood, and sword fights mentioned, minor character death, childhood trauma,

Pairings; Quackity x reader [Male pronouns]

[ Female vers. / GN vers. ]

a/n; once again thank you guys for all the love, and i hope the next part gives you all the chills! [Part 3 post date; to be decided]

~~~~

“You’re a fucking joke, Sap,” Y/N spat, shoving Sapnap back as he stumbled backward. Quackity and Punz stood behind, watching as he walked closer, with a glare already set on his face. “Are you somehow surprised that I’m not some obedient dog?! Scared that the bitch is fighting back?” The spine-chilling smile made Sapnap take a step back before snarling towards his younger brother.

“I miss my real brother - the boy who’d never hurt anyone, wouldn’t fight back against someone trying to protect him,”

“I do not need your fucking protection, you fucking pathetic excuse of a brother!” Y/N’s voice bounced around them as the once thumping music came to a slow halt, causing everyone’s attention to shift towards the small group. The casino floor became swallowed with thick silence, as Quackity glanced towards Punz who took a step in front of him.

“That’s enough, everyone is to leave.” His voice amplified as everyone stood still, no one daring to move until he grit his teeth. “I said MOVE IT.” All jumped and began moving towards the entrance as he followed behind a small group of people, glancing over his shoulder to Quackity, who gave him a quick nod.

“Why don’t we just calm down-”

“Quackity shut the-”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence, Sapnap.” Y/N stepped in front of his fiance, snarling at her brother who frowned. “This is between us, so focus your anger towards me.”

“Trust me, all my pent anger will be directed towards you, Sparkler.” He snickered as he narrowed his eyes, lips pressing into a straight line.

“Don’t call me that. You lost the privilege to call me that.” He growled, hatred and venom evident in his voice. A gentle hand tugged on his wrist, making him turn towards Quackity as he shot him a soft look before smiling, causing his frown to turn into a gentle smile.

“Why don’t we take this somewhere more private..?” The scarred man spoke easily as Sap scoffed, crossing his hands over his chest as Y/N snapped his attention back to his brother.

“Remember..? We have nothing to discuss, Quackity. This is between my brother and I.” The Blazeborn hissed as small waves of smoke lifted from his fingertips and curled up lips. He narrowed his eyes before taking a step away from Quackity, whose touch chased after his warmth.

“Don’t you dare go Blaze in here, Sapnap. Don’t start something you cannot finish.” He murmured, keeping his voice low but promising of a threat.

“You and I, now,” he snags his arm, tugging him towards the private back rooms as Quackity stood there, worrying, as he watched his ex take his Amor behind a closed door.

~~~~

He stumbled on his heels as Sapnap shoved him through the doorway, grumbling as he caught himself on the small stage.

“Are you fucking serious-” his voice trailed as he listened to the lock flip as Sap locked the door behind them, standing between Y/N and the door with a quivering smile. His eyes grew wide as he took a step back, his heels dragging across the blacked-out carpet.

“Sap? Sapnap, what the hell are you doing-”

“It’s all your fault, you fucking whore.” He hissed, his eyes glowing the burning red and orange as he drew his Netherite sword. “You’re the reason I lost him, but I can gain him back… Easily.” He took a stride towards him, swinging the sword down as he stumbled backward, quickly kicking off his crystal heels as he moved around the small stage; blocking Sapnap from him.

“Are you fucking insane?!” He gulped, sneaking around the stage as Sap crept around the other side, snarling as he dragged the sword behind, tearing up the carpet with each step.

“Call me love-struck,” he spat, suddenly jumping across the smaller stage as his eyes grew wide, tumbling back and knocking into the floor as she caught the sword; a scream breaking through his lips as blood slowly leaked from the edge cutting into his palms. “Or love-sick, whichever you prefer.” He snickered, pressing his body weight into the sword as his own palm angled, pressing into the hilt and edge with a crazed look breaking through his Blaze-colored eyes. His dark hair sprouting into flames as he grits his teeth, releasing another scream as she pushes her arms up and into the sword, knocking Sap off and away as he sits up his chest heaving.

“You.. You fucking bitch!” Sapnap suddenly growled, causing him to glance up, his chest rising and falling steadily before a soft gasp left his lips. Sap sat with his side turned into the bottom of the black stone stage, clutching his face. Blood dribbled down from his palm, the steady stream giving a small glimpse into the true damage. His head snapped up, a large slice had broken through the skin of his cheek from his mouth.

His eyes watered at the sight of her brother, fear suddenly prickling along the back of his neck as he moved to press his back against the stage while he began to shake.. The room began to feel warm - no hot.. No boil - boiling. It felt as if the air around him had begun to melt his skin off as the room around him slowly shifted. Bright lava began to ooze from between the ceiling tiles and to break and crack through the carpeted floor as she scrambled to his feet, spinning until the room had shifted into his last home… The sweltering and deathful Nether.

“Sap! Sappy, come back up here!” A gentle voice echoed over the tormenting pops of lava, Y/N’s eyes towards the voices before carefully moving towards them. Peeking over the netherrack, he swallowed a gasp as he recognized himself as a child, and a dark raven-haired boy swimming in the lava below.

“No way, Sparkler! This feels amazing, why don’t you,” he called in a sing-song tone. “Come down here?” The smirk was evident in his voice as Y/N frowned, suddenly feeling anxious as he watched the small boy lean closer to the edge.

“Sappy, you know I can’t swim like you! This is cheating anyway!” The young boy called down to him. The young version of Sapnap scoffed before climbing out of the large lava lake and climbing up the small netherrack hill towards young Y/N.

“Oh, shut it! It’s not cheating when you can easily just come in and get me,”

“I can’t! I’d.. I’d-” his voice trailed as the young boy scoffed, shaking his head free of the sticking lava bits.

“I’d - I’d - I’d - You’d what, Sparkler? You’d be fine!” He laughed as he gutted out his bottom lip, hugging himself despite the sweltering heat surrounding the young siblings.

“Can we please just do something else? I’m tired of playing tag anyway…” He muttered, playing with the burnt edge of his t-shirt, as little Sapnap nodded, moving towards where he had placed his t-shirt and clothes. His little Diamond sword glittering from the falling lava as he picked it up, admiring himself in the blades’ reflection.

“Yeah, why don’t we try your training some more? I know you went easy on that Techno kid..” Sapnap lightly spat as Y/N frowned, tugging out his own diamond sword. Tracing his finger along the edge, meeting his own eyes in the mirroring image. Furrowing his brows as he stared into the reflection, noticing a sudden… Glow to his eyes.

Suddenly, his sword is knocked from his loose grip, nicking his fingertips as it clatters to the cracked floor. Snapping his head up, he growled towards his brother whilst he smirked, holding his blades’ point towards his chest.

“One point for me, bro..” He sang as he scoffed, scooping up the sword as he took a step back readying himself again.

“Not fair, I-”

“All’s fair in war, Sparkler,” Sapnap spoke matter-of-factly, tilting his sword to the side while shooting her a wicked smile.

“This isn’t war, Sappy..” He rolled his eyes as he huffed, launching himself at him. He stepped back, stumbling over a crack before raising his own blade. The sharp metals met together and yelled as Sapnap continued his attack, bashing down on the opposing blade with a sneer. Y/N caught his blade and turned his own away from his body, hooking his and forcing it off of him. He watched as he stumbled back from the sudden force, shock evident on his face as he turned and rushed away as icy fear shot through his veins at his loud huff of annoyance.

“This seems a little,” he paused, spinning towards the left and catching his sword easily. “Excessive, Sap!” He called over the continuous screech of the metals meeting each other; sparks flying as he continued to back away. Y/N kept walking until he glanced back to see the edge of the netherrack hill, the lava lake below them popping and bubbling as he grew wide-eyed.

“Sapnap! Sap, stop the edge-” he suddenly cried out before he felt his sword slice down his arm, effectively cutting through his t-shirt sleeve and his skin in angry backlash, the bright crimson flying out as the blade clashed onto the netherrack. His own sword clatters to the ground, his tired body following as he grasps his injured arm, choking sobs and gasps leaving him as he cradles himself.

Sapnap stood over his shaking body, his grip loosening on the hilt before allowing the sword to clatter by his feet while watching his brother wither. He swallows thickly before stepping towards him, only to stop as he tries to scoot away, despite the edge threatening the promise of falling into the lava below.

“Sap? Y/N/N?” A voice called out as footsteps approached the sibling pair. Sapnap looked towards the area it had come from and he felt dread and fear shoot through his veins as one of their fathers rounded the corner - his bright blue hoodie and jeans standing out from the harsh red tones. “Sap, what happ- Y/n! Baby, what the hell happened?!” He rushed towards the siblings, skidding across the rough floor as he scooped up Y/N’s small, sniffling body as one of his hands dragged his hand away from the wound.

“What happened?” Skeppy hissed as Sapnap gulped, his palms began to sweat as he opened his mouth, eyes watering.

“I… I didn’t mean,” his voice fell as Skeppy huffed, the look of disappointment already spreading across his father’s face. Silent tears dripped down Sapnap’s burning face as Skeppy stood, lifting Y/N’s shuttering body and holding him close to his chest before reaching one with one hand towards Sapnap, tugging him close as they left the swords behind… One blade still covered with blood while the other laid, threatening to tumble off the edge.. Who knew that the swords would soon represent the siblings soon enough..

~~~~

“Y/n?! Y/N!? Mi Amor?!” Quackity’s voice broke through the darkness, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as Quackity’s thumb brushed over the tears that streaked down his reddening cheek. He suddenly gasped, shooting up from the floor as his fiance dove back, avoiding his sudden action. He curls in on himself, looking wildly around the room before noticing the door open and Sapnap gone.

“Where’s - Where’d he-” Y/N shook, his nails digging themselves into the meat of his calf as Quackity moved forward quickly, grabbing his wrist and gently tugging his hands from their tight grips on him.

“Gone. He’s gone and he’s never allowed back here, especially not after pulling that shit,” he hissed, pressing his forehead against his own. The feel of his hair, beanie, and grip on his wrists helped him slowly calm down, despite the pounding of his heart.

“He’ll never hurt you again, not while I’m here.” He whispered against his hairline before pressing his lips against his warm skin. Y/N allowed his eyes to flutter shut once more, leaning into the gentle yet grounding touch.

“He.. What the fuck happened?” He murmured, just above a whisper as Quackity sighed, gently dropping his wrists and standing, offering his hand to him as he shakingly stood with him.

“I.. I don’t even know,” Big Qs voice trailed as he reached up, rubbing his eyes with his free hand before gently guiding Y/N out of the room. “I was talking to Punz about how weird he’s been acting, and then we heard you scream.. But, we couldn’t get into the room and we didn’t know what was happening, but hearing you scream and just the shouts and threats made my blood boil,”

“Q, my dream, I’m okay now.. Sure, a little banged up and bloody,” he lightly chuckled, leaning into Quackity’s side while showing the irritated and dried-up cuts on his palms; he frowned. “But, I’m alive and that’s thanks to you.” He mumbled, pressing his lips against his, grinning into the kiss as one of his arms wrapped around his waist, keeping him close as someone cleared their throats from behind them. Tilting his head, he shot a grin to Punz as he mirrored the smile.

“What no thanks to the guy who dragged your psychotic brother out?” He huffed, yet the teasing tone gave its way. Y/N chuckled before stepping away from Quackity and towards Punz, gripping his chin and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“That better, ya big baby?” He teased, a smile crossing both of their faces as Q chuckled, moving to his side as they moved towards the office. A smile still present on his face, however the feeling of dread and anxiety washed over his shoulders as he leaned further into Quackity’s side - him easily accepting it.

Something in his heart and mind told him this wasn’t going to be the last time blood was spilled on this country..

~~~~

Sapnap stumbled as Punz shoved him forward, his knees and palms colliding with gravel. He spun on his knees, blood streaking down his chin and throat, staining his white tee.

“You made a mistake coming here expecting anything but blood to be spilled.” Punz spat, wiping his hand across his dark jeans, the crimson streaking across them. Sap coughed out a laugh, blood and spit splattering onto the sand.

“That’s my brother! That’s my blood and he stole him-”

“He came here looking for him, Sapnap. He chose to live here, to stay here, to leave your ass behind. Respect that before something happens that no one can fix.” Punz hissed, his arms crossing over his chest as they held each other’s gaze. The bloody man scoffed, slowly sitting back on his calves as Punz took a step back, keeping their gaze locked.

“I’ll come back, it doesn’t matter what happens, I’ll still come back,” the raven-haired man slowly moved to stand, causing Punz to frown before his attention dragged up, spotting a colorful hoodie climbing up the tall, sandy hill.

“Karl. You’re a little late,” Punz frowned before nodding towards the brunette’s fiance. “Next time, don’t let him leave the house.. Especially with ill intentions.” He clicked his tongue as Karl moved closer, standing next to Sapnap, a frown evident on his face. He only nods towards Punz, who returns the gesture before turning on his heel and leaving the couple.

Karl knelt down next to Sap, carefully helping him stand. He flinched at the large gash, gently touching the dried blood with trembling fingers. Closing his eyes and biting his lip, Karl pressed his forehead to Sap’s, feeling the sticky sweat and if he focused hard enough, he could almost feel his pounding pulse.

“Why are you such a meathead?” He mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to Sap’s cheek before leaning back, swallowing thickly with a sigh. “Leave them be, Sap.. They have their happiness, we have ours - let them have this.” His voice shaking as Sapnap froze, his body growing rigid as Karl tightened his hold on him. He could feel the heat slowly rising from Sapnap’s body, making him huff as he gave a squeeze.

“Let them live in their happiness and let us live in our own happiness- it’s what we deserve after everything,” he mumbled into Sap’s neck, the heat causing Karl to sweat and burn red. He shook from the pain rippling through his hoodie and jeans as Sapnap scoffed, his eyes watering.

“I’m done,” he whispered, making Karl lean back slowly to look him in the eyes, seeing the slow tears streak from the corner of his darkening eyes. “I’m done being a second thought - second place. Why does he get everything? Why does everything get handed to him while I have to claw and.. And fight, and bite to try and survive..?” Sapnap’s voice quivered as the smoke slowly dissipated, leaving him slumped against Karl’s frame.

“You don’t have to fight them… We have our country - our kingdom - where we’ll be safe, and no more second place, yeah? We’ll have each other, we’ll… We’ll have everything we need.” Karl stuttered, sliding his hands up and cradling Sap’s face with a hesitant tap on his left side, avoiding the gnarled gash. “We’ll make it..”

“I don’t want to just make it,” Sap hissed, resting his hand on top of the smaller male’s hand with a sigh. Tightening his grip, trying to clench his jaw only to wince in pain as Karl stepped closer, pressing his chest against his. Blinking, he revealed his vibrant orange eyes, smirking, “I want him to pay..”

~~~~

Night fell over the lively country, the neon signs buzzing and the streets were bustling with life, cool air blowing past, knocking strands of hair free as Y/N pressed himself against the railing. Quackity and he had left the casino, escaping to the Space Needle with both their thoughts battling against one another. He sighed, eyes flickering all over their country, able to see the night allow it to breathe its true beauty.

A hand grazed his lower back, causing him to slightly jump before sighing and relaxing into the touch as Quackity came into view. Shedding his blazer, situating it on top of his shoulders with a gentle peck.

“Enjoying the view?” He grinned as he hummed, leaning into his side as he placed an arm around his shoulders, rubbing his thumb across the soft material of his jacket. Big Q side-eyed him, still seeing the dazed and lost look in his eyes before he sighed, turning Y/N towards him. “Are you still worried about Sapnap?”

He couldn’t help but scoff, “I know I acted big and not afraid, but… I know Sapnap. He’s going to do whatever he sets his mind to, so who knows what the hell is going to happen.” He sighed, reaching up and rubbing his eyes, relieving the itch from his glittery make-up.

“Mi Vida.. I know him too, remember? I was engaged to him,” Quackity chuckled, reaching up and brushing his thumb over his cheek. “And who cares what the hell happens? As long as I have you and our country safe, I could care less about what happens.” He smiled, leaning in and pressing their lips tightly together. Y/N couldn’t help but smile into the embrace, brushing his nose against Q’s before reaching up and caressing his cheek, his thumb rubbing across the ridged scar.

“You’re crazy, Quackity,” he shook his head with a small smile as Quackity nodded, reaching into his slacks’ back pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the box, her brows knitting together.

“I may be crazy, but I’m so lucky to have you. You saved me.” He mumbled, opening the box and revealing the golden band with a glittering Sapphire shimmered as he picked it up, offering it as Y/N nodded slowly. Pressing another kiss to his lips as he melted into it. His thumb brushing over his hip, hugging him closer as if to mold his body around him - to protect him.

“And you saved me, Mi Caballero,” he muttered against his lips before leaning back, seeing the dreamy look on his face.

“Come on, we need to meet everyone downstairs for a meeting. We need to discuss what protocols will be needed to ensure that Las Nevadas continues to stand.” A wide grin split across his face as he backed away, his hand still holding Y/N’s tightly before pressing small butterfly kisses across his now decorated knuckle before retreating back into the needle.

Y/N watched with a glowing smile, his grip tightening around the jacket whilst tugging it closer to him; turning back towards the lively city, he sighed. Quackity would do anything for him, and he would do anything for him. And that’s the scary part. They would give anything and everything up for the other to live carefreely.. And yet their happiness lived with one another, now there was a threat to their paradise.

Straightening his back, turning on his heel, and moving back inside, his face hardening as he moved swiftly towards the stairs. Dropping his hands from clutching the sides of his boyfriend’s jacket, the clicking of his heels against the polished quartz caused a smirk to grace his lips. Stopping a few steps above the floor, his eyes met Quackity and Punz, who held smiles. Punz moved towards him, offering a hand as he nodded, smirking still as Quackity met him halfway. “What’re we waiting for, boys? An invitation?”

~~~~

His skin began to turn a grey color - rotting, withered almost - while vibrant blue washed over his eyes, and erupted in flames from his fingertips. Sapnap stumbled back, a scream escaping his lips before he slapped a hand over his mouth; fear rushed through his veins as he felt his own skin begin to heat up, feeling threatened.

“Sap.. Sapnap, I don’t know what’s happening-”

“Stay back and… And just stay there! Wait till Dad or Papa gets back!” He huffed, gulping as he watched him move his fingers, adjusting to the strength of the flames. A giggle left his lips as he furrowed his brows, why did his look so different? Frowning at the flames, he stood and moved towards him, his orange flames mixing with his as he lightly giggled as the flames danced; it almost felt like light tickles.

“This is so cool! I’m just like you, Sappy!” Y/N broke into a huge smile as he lightly chuckled before giving a small nod.

“Yeah, you are, Sparkler… This is so weird, why are yours-”

“Sap, Y/N! We need help with, oh my muffin,” Bad went silent as Sapnap and Y/N turned towards their father, their little eyes growing wide as he dropped the groceries. He quickly moved towards them, gently taking Y/N’s hand into his as he quickly dropped the flames, feeling embarrassment crawl up his neck.

“Y/N/N, muffin-cake, what was that? When did this start?” Bad asked, carefully as he chewed on his bottom lip before allowing the flames to erupt again from his fingers.

“I�� I don’t know. I’ve been able to do it for a little bit, but I never needed to.. Are you upset?” He mumbled the last part as Bad chuckled, wrapping his arms around the small boy with a sigh.

“Of course not, honey! I’m just surprised that you’ve developed something like Sappy!” Bad pressed a soft kiss to his hairline as Sap watched, jumping when a hand landed on his shoulder turning to meet Skeppy, who was grinning up a storm.

“Looks like we have a Blazeborn AND Soul eater.”

“A… what?” Sap and Y/N spoke together, causing their fathers’ to laugh.

“A Soul eater, someone who is able to walk across soul sand faster, control souls from the flames, and if threatened - like how Sap gets to summon lava? You’d be able to take over someone’s soul to deter them from hurting you.” Skeppy explained as the two siblings nodded, blinking as they looked at one another.

“That’s so cool!” Y/N exclaimed as they chuckled, nodding along as Sap frowned. He was the cool one before… He was the one who had powers from the Nether, and now he got those too?

Everything began to melt around him, causing him to jump and dodge the large drops of his old childhood house. Sand burst up through the floorboards as he jumped, dodging the floor exploding up, knocking him backward and causing his back to collide with the sand. Scrambling to his feet, he huffed as he saw a figure standing before him, licking his lips and squinting he noticed the stature… Y/N.

“Y/N? Hey, what the hell is-” his voice trailed as he watched a ball of blue flame hurdle towards him. Throwing himself off to the side, feeling the extreme heat fly over him as his arms covered his head. Sitting on his calves, he turned to see part of an oak forest erupted into intense, crackling blue flames.

“ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?!” Sapnap screamed towards his brother, standing onto his feet and seeing his body facing him, a blue flame still flickering in his palm. Y/N stood as if he had an injury, favoring his right side. Narrowing his eyes, he summoned his own orange flames with a snarl. “You know this isn’t a fair fight, Y/N!” He shouted towards him, carefully moving through the sand towards him with creased lips. Keeping his flamed hand out ahead of him, in case of him firing another flame ball.

He stopped in front of him, his focus straight ahead yet he flinched at seeing the bright whites of his eyes as he moved around to his left, glaring. Dried blood flaked off of the side of Y/N’s neck and stained his t-shirt, while crimson still dripped down from his fingertips, a gradually growing puddle made him frown.

“Sparkler..? What the hell happened-” he spoke, only to get cut off as it felt as if someone had stabbed a sword through his chest. Feeling his throat slowly close as his heart began to work double-time to try and get more oxygen flowing. The flames on his fingertips died quickly as he coughed and gagged, his eyes rolling back as he dropped to his knees, clawing at his throat to try and relieve any of the force before falling face forward, blacking out.

~~~~

Karl gasped, sitting up as he woke, clawing at his own throat, feeling his heart pound against his chest like thundering hooves. Turning over, he sighed at the sight of Sapnap asleep next to him, flopping back down into the covers, Karl flicked his tongue over his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut, allowing the tears to streak down his cheeks.

The worst part about being a time traveler are the stories that get spoiled for you.. Especially those who you care about. Dragging one of his shaking hands over his face, he sighed gently as he turned onto his side, curling into Sap’s back finding comfort in the warmth radiating off his skin. Wrapping his arms around Sapnap’s middle, he pressed his nose between his shoulder blades, squeezing his eyes shut as images of Sapnap’s body laid before him - blood and sand coating him.

“Sap..? Sapnap, wake up,” Karl squeezed his sides and arms, causing him to hum and roll over, cradling the brunette close to his chest.

“What Kar,” his voice slurred with sleep, causing a spike of guilt to pierce Karl’s heart as he buried himself into the raven-haired man’s chest, fighting back tears.

“I love you. I love you so much, and I don’t want to lose you, please just leave them alone.. Please, I can’t handle losing you,” he mumbled into his fiancé's chest, clinging to him while Sapnap’s thumb dug circles into Karl’s shoulder, attempting to bring the brunette comfort even while sluggish with sleep. Sapnap could only hum, his mind still plagued with deep sleep before pressing his lips to Karl’s crown, snuggling further into the mop of curls below his chin.

“It’ll be fine, Karl.. Get some sleep.” The raven-haired man sighed, holding his lover closer at the feeling of Karl digging his blunt nails into Sap’s side and back.

Both of their minds are plagued with thoughts of either killing someone they love or watching someone they love die - both know blood will be spilled and their happiness is slowly becoming what could lead to their insanity…

~~~~

a/n; :0 yall- i cant the love is so weird??? but i appreciate it so much especially with so much happening irl right now! i hope part 3 lives up to the hype part 1 & 2 received, and what something you guys wanna see??? i have some more short imagine and headcannons for the dream team coming <3

#Quackity #quackity dsmp #quackity imagine #quackity x you #quackity x reader #quackity x male reader #quackity x y/n #quackity dream smp #dream smp x you #dream smp x reader #dream smp quackity #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt quackity #sapnap x karl #sapnap #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x sapnap

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qah-naarin · 2 years

Note

PLEASEEEEE I AM BEGGING U FOR MORE MIRAAK N ARPINA CONTENT!! “ surely you must know what you do to me. ” would be perfect 😭😭😭

xoxo from @reachfolk

IT IS PERFECT,,,.,. i thought of them so fast when i saw it 😭 u just get me 😭 bestie i was hit with the most genius idea ever. so. this is a part two of the one bed ?!?!? post i originally thought of making all non-main fic works in arpina's pov but alas this just works so much better in miraak's pov

✧ word count: 988 ✵ warnings: none ✧ tags: musing, not much dialogue, lots of Thinking ✵ ship: arpina sun-stealer/miraak ✧ characters: arpina sun-stealer, miraak ✵ tag list: ask to be added!

The first thing Miraak notices when he wakes is the gentle weight of something across his chest and over his legs. It's rather pleasing, like an embrace. He wasn't expecting that from the sheer, barely there blanket he and Arpina were resigned to the previous night, but—

Oh. He stops watching the sun ray filter through the slightest cracks in the door, stops following the line of brightness from one wall to another. Instead, he looks down, angling his head just to the side the slightest bit. His eyes fall on fire red hair, a curling mess obscuring the face of the woman pressing against him.

He knows his first reaction must be shock, or perhaps, distaste. It is what he tells himself he ought to be feeling. Not comfort, or something soft that makes his breath catch in his chest.

Miraak is still a little sleepy. He can excuse his thoughts with that.

(Arpina, he notes, makes a fine blanket.)

His eyes trail down from her shoulder, bare as her sleeve is caught under her arm, to the way she tangles her legs with his. It's amusing, how comfortable she is, how deeply she is sleeping. Arpina isn't one for waking bright and early. He's well aware of her tendencies to sleep like the dead, but only now does he realizes that he has not minded in a very long time.

(It is a little too much to admit himself that, truthfully, he may have never minded at all.)

Miraak swears he has seen this before. Or perhaps, experienced it. Not with Arpina, no, because he would have remembered it well, but he cannot get the thought out of his head. He knows this has happened before.

When?

Where?

"We call it déjà vu," Arpina tells him, concern on her face as she sits with him at the fire. She doesn't seem to mind his pique of frustration, that point where he has had enough of not knowing his memories well enough to tell from where or from when. "That feeling when you know something has happened, precisely the same in that moment, but you do not know from where, what, or when."

He doesn't manage to say anything in response just yet, but he cannot help but feel grateful that she had told him that. There is comfort, he realizes, in feeling that you are not entirely alone. That it is not like the whole world has abandoned you when it comes down to the most crushing experiences.

The flame burns brighter, licking at the cool night sky.

"It is not so bad to know," he starts quietly, unwilling to meet her eyes, (because he would crumble, that way. he doesn't want to admit to himself why—he is not even sure if he knows) "that there is a word for it."

"Precisely," she hums, and does not bring it up further. He is grateful again.

It doesn't matter where he's seen this before, when he's felt this before. All it matters, he supposes, it means enough to stir such feelings of recollection.

Her cheek is on his chest, eyes shut as she sleeps. It is nice, he will admit, to see that she is sleeping well. On the occasions she does sleep well, that is when she sleeps like no war could wake her. He's heard her gasp and cry out in her dreams when sleep evades him. It had hurt to hear that. It was a tangible pain in his chest, like a fist clutching his heart.

(He would never admit that was why he always woke her from her restless dreams. Will you sleep easy? I cannot sleep because of your obnoxious snoring, he had always told her. And then she would jest, oh, please, between you and me, you snore louder. And he would reply, is that an admission, then? That you do snore? And they would talk and she would fall asleep first, and then there would be far less very, very quiet sobbing as she slept.)

Funny, he thinks, how she admits to snoring when she does not. It's almost endearing. He catches himself quickly enough to only call it that.

It is so quiet he can hear his own breathing. He can see it, the way his breath curls in the air like a puff of steam. It's peaceful—the aftermath of last night's snow storm. The silence preserves the brilliance of the moment. Or not.

"Ow," he says very quietly, and shifts his arm under Arpina's shoulder. He can't really feel it, but he can feel how uncomfortably squashed it is. He tries to move it again, moving her closer to him. Better than that lose his arm to her sharp shoulders.

The sunbeams tilt and shine into his eyes. Must be a cloud deciding to blind him. Miraak lifts his arm over his eyes, only barely glancing at the scar lines on it. Dawn-thief, he cannot help but think at just the very sight of it.

It has plagued him for millenia. Five of them, precisely. He can't expect it to stop now.

What are you stealing, Dawn-thief? he wonders. Is it the sun? I have my own, right here.

(Why did he think that? It must be the effects of being unable to breathe with a person sleeping on him. His quickening heart rate does no good especially with the way Arpina seems to render him breathless. He should move her off him.)

"Surely," he murmurs, unable to help himself, "you must know what you do to me."

Miraak does not move Arpina off him. Instead, he catches the edge of her shirt, the neckline that was pulled off her shoulder, and puts it back. It is cold, after all. Cold, even for him. Even as the sun shines, he's aware that it is still early. He goes back to sleep, content with the sun at his chest.

#oc: arpina sun-stealer #miraak #ship: dusk and dawn #skyrim #tesblr #tes5 #teddy writes #god this was fun to wite #write*#esp the ending #cozy ty for the prompt #all the time i think og the brilliance of the time of day motifs #im a genius #why are you in the tags reading me feed my ego??#anw. they're so cute they make me sigh #just make out already!!

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thechangeling · 3 years

Text

Five

Ok so I actually got this idea awhile ago long before someone suggested it on here. Ty finding a letter that Christopher Lightwood wrote.

Tbh I don't know if I got Christopher's voice right. I tried my best!

I listened to Five and Mind by SAL while writing this.

Cw: Mentions of ableism.

For the future,

To whomever may be reading this, I would first and foremost like to begin by mentioning that I have not the slightest idea why I am writing this letter. Perhaps I have gone mad, just like everyone always says.

I believe most importantly that I have a strong desire to maintain hope for the future. Hope for a future that can and will include people like me. Shadowhunters who are different like me. And as I reach out into the void, across the empty chasm of time, I cannot stop myself from wondering.

Wondering what your life has been like. Wondering if your childhood was as lonely and frightening and complex as mine. Wondering if you were also seen as the outcast. Strange and offputting, but brilliant.

The smart one.

Do you find yourself with the inexplicable need to pull apart every peice of this fascinating existence and examine it at greater length? To analyze and discover answers to questions you honestly did not even realize you had until that very moment? Do you think like I do?

I am very fond of science. Some might say too fond. Most shadowhunters find it unusual for a fellow shadowhunter to be so invested in what they view as mundane business. I suppose shadowhunters are meant to be fighters and not scientists, which I find utterly ridiculous. Science is the key to everything. As a matter if fact, I have proven time and again how useful it can be to be to examine a problem from all possible angles rather then continuing to believe that there is only one right way.

Nephilum are stubborn as you know, and they can also be cruel. I am sure you understand just how painful it can be to be different, especially when no one will ever let you forget it.

The people I grew up with, my family and friends for the most part mean well. My parents always encountered my interests and never scolded me for behaving in a way that others may have thought to be abnormal. My friends however, are a more complicated story. There love has always felt, strange. Lack-luster in some ways, almost superficial.

They never took an interest in my experiments or listening to me talk about them. Which I understand, some people seem to find science frightfully dull. However it always hurt, knowing that the people who claimed to be my friends did not fully accept me.

I think you'll find a lot of that in your life. People will only take a liking to certain parts of you, often requiring you to pretend to be something you're not to gain their approval. You will need to twist and remold yourself into a more appropriate shape. But if you are here, reading this letter then I beg of you, please learn from my mistakes. Do not lose yourself.

Please do not sacrifice one precious bit of that brilliant mind. It is your most treasured possession. I understand this world and this society are harsh and cruel. There are people who will want to use you for their own personal gain. They will see you as what you can do for them and not as a whole person. We are only valuable to them if we can serve them. To make revolutionary discoveries or to create brilliant masterpieces. Please remember that you belong to yourself and you do not have to please them to be great.

Yes you can change the world, but please heed my words and remember that you do not have to. You can save them from themselves, from their own stupidity and arrogance. But do they deserve it?

Finally, I wish to leave off on a more pleasant note. I want you to remember that no matter how lonley and isolated you may feel, you are never alone. We have always existed and we always will. Whatever you decide to do with this life, I want you to remember to trust yourself and trust that only you know what is right for you. No one else.

In a world that demonizes and dehumanizes those who are different, the most powerful act of defiance you can perform, is loving yourself. I can proudly say that I have finally managed to do exactly that.

I encourage you to do the same.

Sincerely,

Christopher "Kit" Lightwood.

Ty didn't realize he was crying until he saw the droplets of water hitting the page. Quickly he set the letter down beside him and quoted his eyes to avoid ruining the old parchnent any further.

He had been exploring the attic in Ciernworth while Kit looked after Mina downstairs. Ty found he could only take so much of the three year olds antics before he needed a break. Kit didn't seem offended. He understood that sometimes Ty just needed to be alone.

Which had led him to finding the letter hidden into a hole in the wall.

Ty was stunned. He was feeling a lot of things, none of which he could quite get a grip on. He knew of Christopher Lightwood of course, he was a shadowhunter legend. Did this letter mean?

Was Christopher...like him? Autistic? Was that what he had been referring to? Of course Christopher wouldn't have had the words back then.

But he still knew, Ty thought. Just like I knew.

The tears came again as he let Christopher's words sink in.

Kit, his brain supplied. He went by Kit. Just like my Kit.

By the angel that really wasn't helping. Ty picked up the letter again.

"You are never alone," he read out loud. And it felt real. It felt tangible, like Christopher was speaking to him in the room, like he was holding Ty's hand. Like Ty could just reach out.

It felt like a lifeline.

Ty let out a shakey breath that then formed into a laugh as he let the tears dry on his cheeks.

"Thank you," he whispered into the empty silence.

And Ty could only hope that the message was recieved.

Tag list lmk if u wanna be removed/added.

@playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @dianasarrow @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @the-wckd-powers @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @felicitygeorgia @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @eutonyinwhisper

#tsc #tda #the dark artifices #kit x ty #twp #ty blackthorn #christopher lightwood #tlh

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wincore · 4 years

Text

act iii, incomplete | ten

pairing: ten x reader

summary: it’s the same vivid dream every time — you, a feline constellation that keeps smiling at you and a boy who won’t ever forgive you. autumn, spring and everything in between come to save part of that but the truth is this: no amount of time spent at your small town theatre with your once best friend is going to speak the words for you.

alternatively,

best friends aren’t meant to be lovers and ten, despite the millions of roles he’s played, keeps trying for the one role he won’t ever get.

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, slight theatre au, reincarnation themes, fluff, angst

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries, mentions of death

words: 23.9k

a/n: hello i’m so glad i actually completed this !!!!! i’ve never written something like this before !!! also longest fic let’s gooo ahaha special thank you to miss cat for reading this and making it at least infinity times better i am in indebted to u <3. playlist here.

part of the almost collab by @hyucksie !! (thank you for hosting this, it was lovely to be a part!!)

ACT I: HOMESICK

act i scene i.

For the first time in years, you hold your breath at the local theatre, the walls more and more debilitated each year. It’s the only place, perhaps, that is so vibrant in its dull shades. The key is memories. Memories keep you alive in a way death and life and sickness cannot interfere.

A single drum beat resounds through the theatre. A second one follows before a tune from a flute sets the mood. A voice speaks out, that of a woman, and it strikes you as somewhat sad. In that moment, you believe Ten would have pointed out to you that she is meant to do that, she is meant to play the part of someone sad. The curtains stare at you as undulating as a calm sea of red and you hold your breath.

This is a modern play and you’ve only kept up with them for the sake of watching Ten play a part in them. As for other plays, high school Shakespeare was the most formidable text you’ve ever read and you’d rather not fight for your life again.

“Has the world ever seen a woman’s love unrivalled?”

A projector displays a flower, peonies, on the curtains.

“She once fell sick, dreaming of a lover; and once sick, she grew worse. Love is not love at its fullest if one is not willing to die for it.”

You don’t think that’s quite right. The curtains are drawn right then, their velvet sheen accentuated under the bright theatre lights and two characters appear on stage.

Your first thought is that he’s grown far too much. The second is that he hasn’t changed much. Ten stands in the character of a play you haven’t finished reading yet, in clothes that accentuate his dancer’s figure and with the look of someone that isn’t him. You had tried to read the play earlier but you might have gotten a little too excited to complete it.

You bounce your legs in anticipation, the music and his voice fading out—it’s not like you can focus much with the high school kids giggling and making out in the seats right behind yours. You could always make a scene but it’s not like you to steal the spotlight away from your dearest friend. Besides, you need to reiterate through the list of things you have to help him catch up on since he’s been gone. Ten wouldn’t want to miss out on some spicy gossip. You chuckle to yourself, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool yourself.

Ten likes overwhelming responses. You like to be overwhelming. You’re the perfect pair.

The play ends in a way you can’t tell if it was a tragedy or a comedy. You could have if you paid more attention but this isn’t literature class. You can do whatever you want now and you’re a little preoccupied with your own thoughts. Ten. Your best friend is back from Broadway after a year of barely talking. You can’t wait to hear the stories.

You get up as soon as the lights are on but when no one else does, you sit back down. The curtains part now and the cast comes on for their final bow. You shift around to see if Ten is looking at you, the older people beside you grunting in annoyance and muttering something about the youth. He’s not but Sicheng is and when you send a wink his way, he shakes his head.

You pout at the lack of attention but it’s time to make your way backstage now. The crowd is exiting and you need to get there before Ten leaves.

Once outside, you make a beeline to the back of the theatre building and mess up Sicheng’s hair as he leaves for home.

“He’s inside,” he informs curtly and makes as much distance possible between the two of you.

“Oh, don’t be shy, Sicheng,” you coo to annoy him. “You performed so well. Not as good as Ten though.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes. “Were you even paying attention?”

You cross your arms and push him onto his track. He shrugs and you watch his figure disappear behind the corner before taking a deep breath. With anticipation, comes a little unrestrained droplet of anxiety. You shouldn’t be worried, you tell yourself. This is Ten, after all.

The crows sing a song to themselves under the purple evening sun and you feel annoyed at the sound. It’s a song for ghosts. You hate the sound of it.

You rub your temples, trying to hush away the headache. You can’t wait to see Ten.

You swing the door open in an attempt to sneak up on him. However, you take a few moments to see him barefaced, the stage makeup washed off and a red undertone running through his nose and cheeks. That dark mop of hair sticks out every which way, and no attempt has been made to rectify it. It was once your job, actually. He rubs at his sleepy eyes, a yawn escaping his lips as he stuff his belongings into a worn-out satchel bag. You gave it to him when you skipped prom night. You smile.

“Ten!” you yell at the top of your lungs. You’ve missed him so much—an old greeting should warm him up. This town started feeling more like home once you heard the news Ten’s back.

He looks at you so cold that you stop dead in your tracks. You freeze up, the words suddenly collapsing into themselves like wilting flowers. You don’t recognize Ten all of a sudden. He wears a deep frown and empty eyes, something you cannot understand no matter what angle you look from. Everything’s changed now, hasn’t it? You truly understand what that means when you meet his eyes.

“Ten,” you repeat at a more respectable volume. “Hey. I… I missed—”

“Hey,” he responds a little too quickly. Eyes less sharp than usual, he averts his gaze. “I- I need to get home early.”

Ten grabs his bag and leaves the room, his shoulder brushing against yours. You stand there for a few extra moments, breaths shallow and quiet. When you regain the sound of your heartbeat, you leave the practice room, throat dry and a frustrated sigh on your lips. Consequences, every time it’s the consequences biting back.

The crows’ song goes unheard.

act i scene ii.

“So… you want me to get Ten to talk to you?”

Sicheng looks at you in disbelief, the ice cream in his hand starting to melt. You’ve never met anyone who enjoys ice cream in mid-autumn as much as he does. Sore throats are foreign to him.

You nod, crossing your arms. “I don’t know why he’s avoiding me.”

Sicheng scoffs, choking on the ice cream and taking a few moments to regain his composure.

“Thanks,” he says when you rub his back in pity. “But… you really don’t know why he’s avoiding you?”

You shake your head. It’s a lie. But the only thing you can think of is the summer he left, when he confessed his feelings and you rejected him after a few seconds of contemplation. You had good reason. You just can’t tell him that. You’re still young and there’s so much to look forward to.

"You obviously have feelings for him!"

"Yeah, anger! Why would he just ignore me like that? We've been friends for, uh…"

"Stop counting, you suck at math."

You punch his shoulder and his ice cream almost falls off. He looks at you with a glare so strong, you have to take a step back.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I thought we were like any other pair of best friends.”

Sicheng snorts. “Yeah, best friends in love with each other. Didn't you suggest getting married once?”

“As a joke,” you interject, feeling heat on your cheeks. “Actually, do you know how useful a marriage of convenience is? It's got convenience in the name. Think of all the tax benefits.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes. “The way you looked at each other wasn’t a joke—you know what? I’m not going to be the supporting act to your whole romance charade. You figure this out.”

You pout. “So you’re saying you won’t help?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. You won’t know if I did.”

You furrow your eyebrows, groaning in exasperation. This was supposed to be a happy reunion and yet, you’re here moping to a theatre kid, hoping he helps you. You expected Ten to not take it well but right now, you wish you weren’t so blunt. You could have said it nicer.

You’re joking, right? Haha, nice one. Best friends don't fall in love.

Oh, this is all your fault. You knew him better than anyone else. You should’ve known the consequences too—you could scream right now. In your defense, you thought college made him lose a few brain cells. You still have to make it right.

“Fine. Whatever you might do, better do it soon.”

Sicheng shrugs, turning back to his ice cream and browsing lazily through one of the magazines. He’s supposed to be watching the store—he gets paid for it but he couldn’t care less about this place. Sicheng is something of a theatrical actor too, traveling around and performing with his theatre group. He never cared for Broadway as much as Ten did.

However, you’re all here now. This autumn is going to be spent with your best friends no matter the cost. You smile as you think of the time you and Ten surprised Sicheng with a whole bag of ice cream and he cried although most of it ended up melting. Sicheng raises an eyebrow at your expression but doesn't question.

“There’s a reunion party by the woods,” he announces. “Next week. Saturday. You have to make up before that. You know they’re going to be brutal.”

You shudder. Your classmates certainly won’t let go of the idea of your relationship with Ten. Teasing aside, they’re going to be making either one of you uncomfortable. All your excitement drains itself. Your shoulders slump and you think that perhaps, asking for forgiveness would be a better out. You recover quickly though. This has to work out, Ten has to be your best friend again—what choice do you have? You missed him and you’re going to let him know.

The first attempt begins right in the evening. Sicheng texts Ten after his shift, asking him to get some snacks. Lucky for you, you work at the local snack store, also called the convenience store. There’s nowhere better to get snacks. There’s also nowhere else to get snacks.

You stand behind the counter, fiddling with the drawstrings of your hoodie while your eyes trail to the hands of the clock on the wall. Sicheng texted him half an hour ago. Ten might not be the most punctual but you know he listens to Sicheng, even if it’s reluctantly.

Your impatience gets the better of you and you leave the counter to peer out the glass door. Unfortunately, someone pushes open the door right then and you clutch your nose, eyes watering at the painful impact.

Ten looks petrified for a moment before turning around and leaving. You furrow your eyebrows, tears brimming from the pain in your nose and mixing into the exasperation from getting so bluntly ignored. Come on, Ten. You curse on your way back to the lonely counter. There goes the only thing you were looking forward to this evening. Sicheng walks in a while later, a sour look on his face.

“He actually gave me a mouthful,” he mutters angrily. “Can you believe that? Me. Who’s listened to all his lovesick ramblings about y—theatre.”

You slump onto the counter further, the bright orange background of the store more headache-inducing than optimistic.

“God, this is so much more difficult than I expected.”

“What happened between the two of you anyway? I thought you promised to call him every day.”

“I tried, okay? He wouldn’t pick up.”

Sicheng raises an eyebrow. “Woah. Haven’t heard about that one.”

He places the single pack of Lays onto the counter. You get up to pull the chocolate ice cream from the cooler.

“Don’t bother. It’s so depressing getting shut out like this.”

Sicheng mutters something under his breath you don’t quite catch. It’s his complaining voice though, so you don’t question him.

“He’s going to be at the Bridge tomorrow,” Sicheng notifies. “Something about getting fresh early morning air. Now, there’s no way you can run into him and call it coincidence. So don’t do that.”

You cross your arms. “So what do you suggest I do?”

“I mean, if you’re accompanying Mr. Yang to the dahlia fields for flower shop business… that’s a different story.”

Your eyes brighten and you sit up. “You’re a genius!”

“I’ve been telling you guys since—”

You hug him and he chokes, almost dropping the Lays pack. The door opens and you hurriedly wave at Yangyang, who’s here for the next shift before running out the door in a hurricane of bad decisions and good intentions.

“I hate being the middleman,” Sicheng mutters to Yangyang who offers him a pitiful look. The evening returns to its pink skies and you race your feelings to your destination.

“Mr. Yang,” you whine. “You don’t need a single dahlia? I’m offering to help.”

The older man scratches his spotless white beard and looks at you in confusion. “I gathered a whole cartload just three days ago. There’s no way I need more. You know this place—no one buys flowers anymore.”

“I’ll buy them! A whole cartload.”

“And where will you get the money, child?”

“Uh.”

Mr. Yang shakes his head at your immaturity. “If you’re so eager, get me some chrysanthemums from Mrs. Leong’s sh—”

“No. It has to be from the other side of the Bridge,” you interject.

Mr. Yang is further perplexed but you’re glad he doesn’t ask further. Having to explain your love and friendship troubles to a senior citizen has never been an ideal situation. You make a face at the thought.

“Alright,” he says and takes a few moments to ponder. “You want an errand to run, right? Could you get me some sunflower seeds from Goodwin Park?”

“That far?”

He sighs. “Do you want to go or not?”

You nod reluctantly, checking your phone to see the time. It’s early as fuck and the only person you’d wake up this early for doesn’t even know you’re doing all this.

“It’s to feed the birds, isn’t it?” You raise an eyebrow.

Mr Yang nods.

“You know, you don’t have to do all that to get Mrs. Leong to notice you.” You offer him a cheeky grin.

“I’m assuming it’s also a person you’re doing all of this for,” he hums in reply.

You drop your grin and take the errand money, heat rising in your cheeks. Exiting quickly, you check the time again. Ten better not have left early.

Shortcuts are better when there’s someone with you, you decide. You have gained around five long scratches at five different places on your body trying to best the hill beside Maple Street in order to get to the Bridge faster. If Ten were here, he'd laugh at you for being so graceless.

The Bridge is empty when you arrive and you sigh deeply. You’re not sure if you’re early or he’s late or you’re astronomically late. The grass is still a golden green in colour, for autumn never truly comes in when you’re expecting it. The little stream below the Bridge is almost dried up but the wooden structure stays. You remember Sicheng broke his leg once, trying to catch Ten’s family cat pawing at fish in the stream when it used to be fuller.

You greet Mr. Santello at his garden and buy the sunflower seeds. Your errand is complete but the rising agitation in your chest makes you kick a rock on the way back to the Bridge. This side of the town is bleak except for the garden and the only fun you’ve had here is when a beehive dropped on Yukhei’s head (he poked at it himself with no provocation from your side whatsoever). The scenery is much prettier with someone to appreciate it. You, on the other hand, cannot wait to leave this town. You walk back with certain memories playing in your head, the smell of nostalgia rising with the sun. You’ve always hated early mornings; but you did have fun in them when you had to wake up for school trips. You hold your breath, stopping right before the beginning of the Bridge.

Ten leans against the wooden rails of the Bridge, Starmill Bridge, with eyes gently closed and white earphones plugged in. You smile to yourself. When the sunlight draws across his cheeks, he seems brighter than golden skies and softer than late afternoon clouds. You see the boy from your childhood, messy unbrushed hair and his favourite grey sweater. He’s so full of colour. You wouldn’t mind staring at him for as long as you can.

You take a step and your hoodie catches onto a stray nail, making you stumble onto the wooden floor of the Bridge. You look at your scattered boxes of sunflower seeds with horror but not before finding Ten plucking out his earphone to look at you. He’s so pretty even in a daze.

“Hi?” you offer. “I was on an errand, promise. Not stalking you and trying to get you to talk to me or anything. Hah.”

Ten shakes his head at you and quietly stares for a few more moments.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” he answers finally. “Stop trying.”

You look at him with a flickering guilt though you’re not sure why. He sighs and walks toward you, frowning. He takes out the cloth of your hoodie stuck in the nail with tentative care. Gathering the boxes of sunflower seeds scattered on the floor, he glances at you once before getting up.

You grab his hand before he can walk away again.

“Ten,” you say, your voice coming off more pitiful than you would like.

He turns back at you with lips pursed and a sorrowful look in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I need to work some things out.”

Ten leaves you hanging for a third time in your life and you pull yourself together enough to stand up. You can’t imagine—you don’t want to imagine how much longer this’ll go on. Ten used to be an amenable boy; it shouldn’t be taking this long.

Somewhere the wind comes tumbling in, whispering the words that everything has changed and everything is still changing.

The third and last attempt is outside his house. Ten’s mother is bound to notice you at some point, right? Considering you’re camping out like a homeless man from the nearby gas station, that is. You hope she’s out for grocery shopping and you can just pretend you were on your way home and ‘accidentally’ bumped into her. Being the kind soul she is, she’s going to invite you to dinner since it’s late already. And where else can you spend your time while she cooks but in Ten’s room? It’s perfect and there’s no way he can avoid this.

“(name)!” Ten’s sister yells in glee.

“Tern!” You smile at her.

“Mom’s sending me for grocery shopping. Do you wanna come help?”

You want to go inside the house but patience is quite possibly a virtue. You haven’t tried it out yet.

“Sure.” You grin. “I’ve got time to kill.”

So, you are aware that Ten’s sister tends to shoot off at the mouth with the right person but you somehow cannot get her to talk about Ten. Apart from his life in New York, that is, which you had hoped to hear from him.

“So… how come you’re not in our house already? No offense, it’s just you and Ten… you know.” She looks at you with an inquisitive quirk of her eyebrow.

Ten must be a really good actor. Not like you ever doubted him but for his sister to be so blissfully unaware, he must have put on quite the show. Either that, or he really has forgotten you. You try not to feed fire to that thought.

“Uh, you know, been busy with the snack shack. We’re redecorating. Mr. Kim is going to boil me alive if I slack off.”

She giggles at your expression. “I heard it from Yangyang. He said the redecorations are ugly though.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Ten let you talk to Yangyang? A boy?”

She crosses her arms with a disbelieving laugh. “He can’t tell me how to live. Besides, he doesn’t care.”

You laugh. “Right. You have no idea how overprotective he can actually be. Older brother instincts or whatever.”

She suppresses a laugh. “And you must be facing the boyfriend instincts.”

You stammer out a response but it doesn’t make any sense. It’s alright to get laughed at, you suppose, if Tern is in fits beside you.

The rest of the conversation is about things less important. It would be rude to not engage though so you talk with enthusiasm all the way back. Part of you sees Ten in his sister. How terrible of you to see someone else in a person right beside you.

“(name)!”

Ten’s mother looks pleasantly surprised.

“Good evening, ma’am!” You curtsy in an exaggerated manner, and she laughs, patting your arm.

“How come it took you so long to visit? You hardly ever came over these few years, and I’m a little upset about that by the way, but I thought for sure, you’d be in the house the day Ten came back.”

You scratch the back of your head sheepishly. “You know. Work and stuff. Mr Kim is redecorating the store.”

She exhales in annoyance. “Is that man exploiting you children again?”

“I’m—uh… I’m an adult—”

“Hush,” she instructs, voice strict and you zip your mouth immediately. Never question a mother’s statement.

“Ten’s in his room, by the way. Should I call him?” she asks, after a minute of complaining about Mr. Kim, which you would have loved to join but there are other matters at hand. She has all the gossip in town and yet, she’s somehow blissfully unaware of the silence between her son and his best friend. Are you not as important? It makes you pout but you quickly neutralize your expression.

“Ten!” she shouts when you don’t respond, a little lost in your own thoughts.

“Uh—oh no, you don’t have to do that!” you say quickly. “I’ll just go to his room.”

You hurry up the stairs, just in time for Ten to open his bedroom door and jump back in fright.

“Oh my fucking god,” he mutters, like the soul has been kicked straight out of his body. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to give him a scare.

You walk into the bedroom and lock the door behind you.

“Ten. We need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk,” he says, furrowing his eyebrows. You notice the change in his features—his hair has grown out, his face is more chiseled and he has an angry quirk to his brows. “I told you I need some space. You never know how to listen, fuck.”

His voice is a low whisper, in the short space between you. You don’t move from your spot, with your back against the wall and feet nervous. You shift from foot to foot and look him in the eye before looking away. You’ve never felt this way around him. You’ve never actually pissed him off this bad. You don’t know what to do.

“Just leave. God. I can’t believe you think you can just walk in!”

You frown at his words. “Ten. I just wanted to talk to you again. We’re friends—”

“How does it matter if we are? Everything’s changed. This whole place has changed. I’ve changed.”

“But… that doesn’t mean we have to pretend we’re strangers—”

“Leave. Please.”

His voice is so low and odd that you don’t recognize it anymore. You sigh. You can’t convince him when he’s so defensive. You open the door to his bedroom to find Ten’s mom and sister in the hallway trying very hard to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. You offer them a sad smile and thank his mother for the dinner before taking your leave. You feel too ridiculous to cry.

How do people put in all that effort in romantic comedies? You don't even know where to start. Maybe you should follow the King's advice from Alice in Wonderland.

Begin at the beginning and go on until you come to the end; then stop.

No. No, you can't be thinking of ending scenes right now. There's a much bigger problem at hand. Saturday. You better brace yourself for the unpredictability of former prom queens and class presidents, and the predictability of this small town that never changes.

act i scene iii.

High school reunion parties here aren’t exactly mawkish affairs. There’s alcohol, people who are meant to be adults but haven’t quite grown into it yet, the looming woods, and more alcohol. There's no room for sentimentalism when your former classmates, seniors and juniors—those who could be here, at least—are back together and it feels like nothing has changed at all. However, college-age boys always pose problems.

“Look, if Johnny can do it, so can I,” Yukhei tells you.

Johnny smacks his shoulder encouragingly, and a few of your friends giggle at the two lanky men, looking like they’ve discovered something priceless beside the campfire light.

“This beer tastes like crap,” you mutter before returning to a regular volume. “But go ahead and try chugging two bottles in under a minute if you want.”

Your backhanded statement backfires almost immediately because he does exactly as you said. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try not to peek at Ten, sitting beside Johnny and looking rather sleepy. It’s the bedhead, you think to yourself. It’s cute.

“Alright, who’s next?” Yukhei asks, voice booming enthusiastically.

Yeri sighs beside you, tired from the late night and not so much from the alcohol. Speaking of which, the alcohol table is somehow still stocked and Sicheng stands beside it, looking sour from being forced into guard duty.

“Tell him to pipe down,” Yeri mutters, pressing her forehead against your shoulder and you look at her apologetically.

“(name) hasn’t answered anything yet!” Sooyoung pipes up and you shoot her a look she ignores. “Neither has Ten, by the way.”

A bunch of “ooh”s pass through the crowd of roughly twenty people, and you would bury your face in your hands were it not for that stubborn pride of yours.

Truth or dare is quite possibly the worst game in the history of mankind. Ten looks somewhat flustered under the attention but he just sighs.

“Get it over with.” He looks at Yukhei expectantly.

“Kiss (name)!”

Your heart drops and you glare at Yukhei. You should have expected it. There is no one more unimaginative than drunk boys. His cheeks are flushed when he grins at you, encouraging you with a thumbs up gesture.

“He doesn’t have to do that.” You cross your arms. “Consent is important even in fun and games.”

The sentence is so didactic of you but you hope the seriousness in your voice makes him back off.

“But you guys are, like, in love with each other,” Yangyang blurts before covering mouth as if he said something scandalous.

A bunch of chuckles follow, though Johnny shows some concern towards Ten. You remember why you hate high school reunions now. Apart from the fact that almost everyone gets to tell their stories of big cities and big dreams they get to live in, everyone turns into a child again when at a reunion. Perhaps it’s the burst of memories or the vivid glow of old connections returning but you can’t stand childishness. Even if you’re the one to act like a child sometimes.

“I’m gonna go drink,” you say. “That’s the punishment, right? I’m not playing anymore.”

Yukhei groans. “Come on, (name). You wouldn’t be such a bore.”

“I would,” you snap and get up from your seat, Yeri muttering in annoyance before leaning onto Sooyoung’s shoulder.

Ten is glowing in the cheeks, you find when you look at him. He meets your eyes once and looks away, playing with his fingers.

You pour yourself some beer into a cup and lift it up to show to Yukhei before striding off to a place farther than the warmth of people and the campfire. The giant log is a nice enough seat by the edge of the woods. It is cold and mossy though, and you hug yourself, sticking your hands into the pockets of your cardigan.

The sound of footsteps over dried leaves catch your attention and you look up. Ten takes a seat beside you in silence. You move the cup of beer so that it doesn’t spill from any sudden movement. It’s quiet for even longer, your pulse the only rhythm to follow.

"Ten." You smile, looking away from him and into the ceaseless stretch of woods. He hums in response, as though a habit yet to get rid of. It makes you bite down your lip to prevent the smile from turning into something sadder.

You miss him. You miss the years you spent with him. You're drawn into him, into something old, familiar and safe.

No one can save you when you’re homesick.

However, you do not give up easily. What is broken can be mended with enough love and care.

Ten sighs, taking the cup from you right before it touches your lips. "Don't drink that. You hate the taste and it makes you go crazy."

You pout, but can't really find something snarky enough to say. Not when he looks like that—with dry, still-red lips and tired, apologetic eyes.

“Your forehead is so oily,” you mutter.

Ten looks at you, furrowing his eyebrows. He proceeds to hesitantly wipe at his forehead with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before shaking himself out of it. Instead he just glares at you.

“It’s not oilier than your nose,” he shoots, annoyed.

“At least my nose isn’t titan-sized.”

“My nose is perfect. Do you- do you know how many people fall in love with my perfect nose every day?”

You laugh, covering your face. His features soften and he returns his gaze to the comfort of the endless forest. It does have an end, at the fences by the railway tracks but in believing that something can be infinite, you find comfort.

"New York treated you well. Too well. But then again, you were always a narcissist."

You smile smugly at him and he gives you an unamused look.

"I'm… I'm glad we're talking," you offer after a few moments of unacknowledged silence.

He tenses ever so slightly, running a hand through his already messy hair and looks at you. He looks away again as if in an internal debate.

“You rejected me, (name),” he says, exasperated. “How do I recover from that? Don’t answer. It was so embarrassing.”

You close your mouth. If only you could tell him the truth. You had to reject him or your sentimental boy would never leave for acting opportunities. He doesn’t have to know that. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with loving him quietly.

But the truth is, it’s too scary to think about. You’ve been refusing to look at your feelings for a long time now. It’s only a cliche; it doesn't happen in real life. You’re too good of friends to be in love. Isn’t that right? It certainly couldn't have been you to fall in love with Ten. There were a million other people to do that in your stead. You feel shy all of a sudden.

“That was pretty embarrassing,” you mumble, pressing down your smile and he rolls his eyes.

After a few moments in silence, a sigh escapes his lips. “I’ve had enough time for closure though. I can’t believe I actually said that. Oh, the over-sentimentalism. Yikes.”

He makes a disgusted face.

You giggle. “I can’t believe it either. You do look cute blushing, by the way. You find any lover in the big, scary city? Any rebound?”

Ten rolls his eyes. “Too busy. And are you going to tease me forever about this thing?”

You laugh. “That’s the Ten I know. You’re always working. Sometimes you should have fun.”

“I have plenty of fun. You’re the one that used to cry at birthday parties.”

“I was six years old and it was one time, holy shit.”

The two of you break into laughter. The cold makes you draw nearer to him.

“Hey, wanna go to the mall this weekend?” you suggest.

“Wait, it’s still there? Wasn’t it supposed to get knocked down?”

“Yeah but the townsfolk didn’t want that so they delayed it. There’s, like, barely any employees though. It’s like a ghost mansion at night.”

Ten makes a face. “The afternoons there were so bright, like, there was so much sunlight, remember? I remember you always drinking my banana milk at the food plaza.”

You laugh. “I miss skipping class to go there. Now there aren’t any classes to skip.”

“Oh my god, remember when Mr. Wilson actually caught us?”

You laugh louder. “We had to pretend we weren’t his students. Which was futile acting because he knows every student.”

Ten sighs.

“I missed you. God, I’m so fucking sorry—I was in over my head. I thought I ruined everything.”

“Hey.” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I missed you too. Besides, it’s not you if you’re not being a bit of a drama queen.”

Ten elbows you in the side at the comment and you yelp, moving away and glaring at him in response.

“Just because I’m in theatre doesn’t mean I’m a drama queen.” He mocks the tone of your voice and you giggle.

“So any special Broadway stories you have in mind? I wanna hear something funny.” You rest your head on his shoulder comfortably.

"Well, one time this actress' dress caught on fire—"

"That's not funny, that's horrifying."

Ten purses his lips. “Okay. Uh… I got told to fuck off by an eighty year old man in drag after I threw raw steak at his window?”

You snort, eyes widening and Ten throws up his hands in exasperation. "How is that remotely funny?"

"I'm pretty sure that's as funny as it gets with you."

"I can't believe you're pretending I didn't carry our sense of humour on my back for all of middle school and high school."

“I missed you," you say quietly, and he flusters, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

You sigh, inching closer. "Yes. I did miss you, you know? I called."

"And I didn't pick up. I know. I'm sorry."

"I think you've apologized to me more times now than you have in our first twenty years of friendship."

Ten rolls his eyes. "And I mean it. It's not the 'sorry I ate your cookies' apology."

"I fucking knew you were the one eating stuff from my bag back in high school."

Ten presses his lips, making a zipping motion and you push him in exasperation. The two of you laugh, loud and clear, before Johnny's voice comes in, telling the two of you to "stop fooling around near the woods" and that it's "unhygienic".

Seasons change but people don't. You walk home with Ten for the first time in a year and suddenly, you’re in love with the idea that things can just lie in complete peace once they fall back into what was always meant to be. Perhaps it’s the writer’s utopia, but you think it’s much more meaningful this way. Ten's hoodie smells just like home.

prologue.

It was a sunlit morning when you first met Ten, but it was only a sunlit morning. There were no birds chirping or faceless adults on that sidewalk or even your friends because you don’t recall them. You recall a child with two very important teeth missing and your sudden urge to run to his side. You’d pulled his cheek with a huge grin on your face because, and you still stand by this, they were too cute and plump and red to resist.

You were three and a half years old when you met Ten and you parted when you were twenty. One year later, you're back to linking arms, joking about each other and talking about life as though it's a passing stream.

You were six years old when you cried at Ten's birthday party because no one was talking to him. It gave you an evening's worth of attention and a huge smile on Ten's face. You still think kids are mean as hell but they care for things like they have never cared before.

You were eleven years old when you started to lose a little bit of touch with yourself. You talked less, you looked at people more. Ten's face was still the most comforting out of all. He said he liked to listen no matter how annoying you sound. Somehow, by the time sixth grade was over, when you were almost twelve—you talked at least twice as much.

You were fourteen years old when you dated a boy out of curiosity and left on an awkward note when he moved away. You weren't sad for some reason. The idea of life passing meaninglessly by was engraved into you, like the waves that carve the beach. Ten was distant the whole time, with a scowl and more sarcastic remarks than usual, only warming up when you showed up at his door with a homemade cake. It tasted horrible and had the texture of a mossy pebble but you laughed over it anyway. Suddenly, life wasn't meandering but a river full of vigor in spring, beside a garden of fresh crested irises.

You were sixteen when you were pushed to audition in a play by your best friend. The play was about life and death and love, and it didn’t make sense to you the way it did to him. You had good fun backstage with the costumes and the makeup, and it was all that mattered to you. However, some part of you didn't like it, hated it even when he kissed the female lead of the play with eyes full of adoration. You looked on as Villager B and you hated every part of it.

When you were eighteen turning nineteen, you decided to save up for college. It would take time—years perhaps but you would get there. You would get an apartment with Ten in New York City or any city full of bustling, busy life and you would tend to your rooftop garden. Small town dreams, however, die and they die and they’re buried in unloved, unplanted soil.

You finally understood what your tenth grade English teacher meant when she said everything is theatre.

The night he left, you had a nightmare. It was a play and you were the protagonist. You couldn’t make it in time for the night of the performance, anxious and afraid as you arrived. You’d been replaced. You hated to see him on stage with someone else. You hated it. You hated it. You hated it so much.

Of course, you knew it would be a showstopper the moment that fight broke out between you and your replacement. You were cruel in that dream—almost as if you were someone else. But you felt comfortable in that skin, like you were meant to play that part after all. As if you were the villain all along and not the sweetheart of the show. You felt comfortable and it scared you so much that you woke in cold sweat and cried for an hour straight.

It hurt how lonely you felt. It hurt without Ten and you hate that you let him go. Something took shape inside the cavity of your chest, the shape of a weed sprouting in the pulsing garden of life—you won’t make the same mistake again. You’re going to hold on with all your might, till your hands ache and till your heart has had enough.

ACT II: YOUTH

act ii scene i.

“Have you ever actually shoplifted in your life?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Ten tries to suppress his smile and fails, moving so that his back covers you from view instead. A conversation about New York subways led to a conversation about anarchy which led to… this. You’ve been trying to swipe the butterfly pin from the display for the past half an hour. You weren’t actually going to steal it—you just need to prove you can.

The mall is always eerily empty. It shouldn’t be this big of a hassle. Ah yes, apart from the fact that the souvenir shop has stationed the most number of employees for some goddamn reason. You’re not even sure why it’s there; a souvenir shop for your town might as well be a forgotten relic.

“What? No,” he says quickly. “I’m not doing that. Causing trouble is your thing.”

You snort. “Right. Because everything we got into trouble for was done completely by me.”

“That’s actually true.”

You elbow him, giving him your most offended look.

“You can’t be serious about never causing trouble. You broke Mrs. Leung’s famous ruler, remember? And you always stole your mom’s Halloween cupcakes. Those were for all of the theatre crew, by the way.”

“That doesn’t sound right, darling.”

When you look up at him with eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, you find him smiling in somewhat tranquil thought. It has been rather long.

“Yeah, I helped you way too much,” you respond, distastefully.

The two of you straighten at the cashier’s call. Responding that everything’s fine, Ten turns to you with a pointed look.

“If you’re going to do it, better do it before she gets suspicious.”

The hint in his eyes reminds you that he is indeed the devil you know, and you quickly pocket the little butterfly hairpin. This is not ethical in any way and even so, you feel the childish exhilaration. This is to prove a point to your dear friend.

“See?” you whisper to him, exiting the shop. “I could totally pull this off.”

“Not if I start screaming ‘thief!’”

“Did you ever get to play a villain at Broadway? It’s closest to your personality,” you jab.

He sends you a sardonic smile before sticking his tongue out. You should always beware a childish man and his childish smile. You never know if he’ll take you seriously. Ten is the absolute worst and you love him all the more for it.

“Are you actually not gonna pay for it?” he asks, tilting his head.

“And let all those proceeds go to our corrupt overlord mayor? Nuh-uh.”

Ten laughs. “We should go vandalize his campaign posters again.”

The mayor has had, you don’t know how many, little scandals accusing him of embezzlement and every time, he’s escaped easy as pie. All the things you can do with money and you decide to hoard more money; you will never understand people like him. Besides, you won’t have to worry about that any time soon.

“See? You’re the troublemaker. I can’t even vandalize good enough.”

“It’s not my fault you have zero artistic talent.”

You place your hands on your hips. “I’m sorry? I’m pretty sure I taught you how to paint.”

Ten rolls his eyes, a sneaky smile on his lips. “Yeah. You taught the whole class how to paint when you smacked Mr. Cheng with that paintbrush.”

You can’t help the laugh that comes to you, despite trying your best to hold a serious expression.

“You’re a disaster,” he adds, staring incredulously at your fit of laughter.

You look at him and start laughing again.

“Oh my god, what’s so funny? I wasn’t even trying to be funny.”

“Okay, emo boy,” you say, finally straightening and messing his hair.

“I was going to get a haircut.”

“Don’t. You look pretty.”

Ten hums, raising an eyebrow. “But I wanna look hot.”

“That’s going to take a lot of effort.”

Ten grabs you in a chokehold, messing your hair with his hands in the most obnoxious way possible. Finally able to loosen his grip on you, you look at him with your most fearsome glare. He has to stop treating you so gracelessly.

It’s not unusual for him to behave this way; in fact, you welcome it when he’s warm and much lovelier than the usual. But something feels amiss, something dangerous like the passage of time.

“Ten?”

“Yes?”

“I thought you’d be talking much more about New York instead of our boring old town.”

He hums, eyes scanning the vicinity of the mall’s first floor. There’s an ice cream shop opposite to the souvenir shop, unvisited due its lack of variety in flavours, and a spacious marble floor with most of the shops closed for renovation. The other two floors are closed off completely but you’re sure that with enough effort, you could sneak in. The glass ceiling at the centre allows for sunlight to wash in as gentle waves, settling on your heads like golden crowns. There are little potted plants lining the walls to make the mall space look less dilapidated but it gives off the same effect as that of something abandoned, left alone and waiting.

“You want me to brag about it?” He addresses you with a slightly cocky grin.

You roll your eyes. “Never mind.”

The mayor wanted to turn this place into some sort of religious campus but you detest the idea of that man getting his way. He’s the very same man to reprimand little girls for their outfits and to say “dancing is not manly” so you do owe his nauseating sexism for your distaste for him. That, and he has absolutely no sense of aesthetics. You would die before you let him remove the gardens or the livelier buildings blessed with the only colours you can bear to look at.

“Hey, (name)?”

“Yeah?”

“I think Angry Cashier is making her way towards you.”

You snap your head to the souvenir shop and the cashier is indeed eyeing you suspiciously. You reach to pat your pocket but you’re stopped by Ten.

“You are, by far, the stupidest thief I’ve ever known.”

You puff your cheeks in annoyance, crossing your arms instead. Just when you think the cashier is going to call you out, the two of you sprint over to the mall exit with a plausible enough speed.

“We didn’t have to run, you know?” Ten complains as soon as you’re out and a street or two away.

“What’s the fun in committing a crime if we don’t get to run?”

“I don’t know, it could be a brain exercise—oh wait. You don’t have one.”

You stick your tongue out at him, walking faster to get away from him.

“Hey!”

He jogs up to you, eyebrows furrowed and ready to spit some sass at you, no doubt.

“I thought you’d be more athletic. Dancing and all.”

“Yeah, no.”

You fix the hair in front of his eyes as he leans over on his knees, a look in his eyes as though caught off guard. They’re a lovely shade of honey, his eyes. They look at you with emotions you can't quite fathom and with the innocence of a love borne between friends who have been forced to endure the mediocrity of this town together. It’s a good reason, you believe, to be friends. Friends are meant to help each other, to save each other and to be there at the lowest. You can check all the boxes. It might have been a while but you’re friends and friends that grow up together stay together. The idea is naive but you cannot possibly look into a future without Ten. There must be a reason behind everything that is given to you. Even right now, as the silence starts to nip at you, you believe you were meant to make full circle. Fate is a funny thing and you wouldn’t believe in it ever, even for a surprise twenty dollar bill vending machine miracle, but it’s comforting enough to let settle on the two of you.

The lead actors go hand in hand.

“Are you going to keep staring at me? I know I’m tragically beautiful—”

“No, you’re beautifully tragic. Your face, that is.”

“I stopped listening after beautiful, so I believe you agreed with me there.”

You roll your eyes.

“You and your unyielding confidence can go fuck itself. I’ve seen you cry over a cat movie.”

Ten sputters out a response. “But- but Garfield saved that dog despite every fiber of his being telling him not to. He could’ve lived a happy, peaceful life but he saved him. How is that not incredibly touching?”

“You’re weird. Garfield’s cute though.”

“Like me.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What are we, twelve?”

“I was having my rebellious punk phase then, so no. I would never have said that when I was twelve.”

You laugh. “God, you looked so funny back then.”

“I thought we agreed to not bring up stuff from our teenage years.”

You press your lips together in an attempt to stop the laugh but a tiny giggle comes out anyway. The sun is going to set in an hour. You better make use of your time.

“Ready to go vandalize some posters?” you ask, grinning.

“You know what? I have a better idea. We should go pick some flowers.”

You blink at him. “That’s not remotely punk or rebellious.”

“Shh. You like picking flowers. Remember how we used to joke you should be hired at weddings instead of the flower girls?”

You make a face. “Why on earth would I fling flowers in the air at weddings? That’s not even a respectable job.”

“It suits you.”

“We should be kinder to our arboreal friends.” You cross your arms. “I’d rather tend to a garden than pick flowers for stupid occasions.”

“Tree-hugger.”

You pull up your middle finger and he laughs, fixing his hair right back into the messy waves.

“Why do you hate weddings?” he asks all of a sudden.

“Oh, you know. Icky stuff.”

“No one’s having sex at the wedding.”

“That’s not what I meant by icky stuff. It’s that gross feeling in the air. What’s it called?”

“Love?”

“Please, there’s hardly any love at weddings. It’s all pretend.”

Ten rolls his eyes, chuckling. “You think all the brides and bridegrooms in the world are pretending at their own weddings?”

“If you say it like that…” You grumble. “I don’t believe you need to celebrate love, that’s all. It’s always there, you know?”

You look up to see Ten pressing his fist to his mouth to keep himself from laughing and scoff in disbelief.

“What’s so funny? Seriously, stop laughing—oh for fuck’s sake.”

Soon enough, Ten is crouching by the sidewalk in a fit of laughter which causes a hot flush rising over your neck. You weren’t trying to be cheesy. Now, your best friend is hellbent on making you feel embarrassed.

“It wasn’t that cringe. Come on. Get up, asshole.”

“You were- you were just so—” He takes a moment to catch his breath, a few short laughs erupting from him nonetheless. “You looked so serious when you said that.”

Your face is hot enough for you to look away now. “Whatever,” you mumble.

“It was cute. You looked really cute,” he continues, somewhat sobered up. “And brave. You always say things with so much confidence that it’s brave. I’m glad you are the way you are.”

You look at him, slightly dazed before your cheeks puff up to prevent yourself from laughing.

“I regret saying that. You are the big, hideous regret of my life.”

“I thought I was cute?” Your snickers turn into laughter again.

“Fuck off.”

“Thanks, Ten. You’re really good to me.”

Ten shakes his head before walking away, leaving you to call after him in phrases of ‘wait up!’ and ‘when did you get so fast?’ as you try to catch up. You sometimes wonder if he likes being chased. You reach the busiest crossing in this town, with about four cars waiting at the stop sign. You’re not sure why anyone follows the traffic rules if there isn’t even any traffic.

Looking up, you gasp at the moon peeking over a still young sky. You're suddenly reminded of those afternoon naps you had in Ten’s room, the both of you fascinated by the idea of waking up and seeing the sky a whole different colour. The idea that time changes everything was still fresh in your minds then, the impact gentle if not loving. It’s quite late you found that time can steal just as much as it gives.

“Remember when we dyed your hair red?”

“I will, and I shit you not, physically assault you for saying anything about that.”

You laugh at the memory of his awkward hairdo. “No, the other time. When we were seventeen.”

“Oh yeah, I received like eight love letters for that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

He did look pretty, and just in time for Valentine’s day’s theme of red roses and nauseating pink hearts.

“I have proof.” Ten leans his elbow against the street lamp, missing it completely and stumbling backwards till he regains his balance. He gives you an impish smile, running a hand through his hair and breathing out.

You roll your eyes, ignoring his words. “I think we never took pictures of that.”

“So… what are you suggesting?”

“One good picture,” you answer, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of him off guard. Looking at it, you pout. It’s so unfair that he gets to look nice even in a hazy evening picture.

Ten rolls his eyes, snatching your phone. “Let me show you how to take good pictures. Not whatever crap you have going on.”

You cross your arms, huffing but agree nonetheless when he forces you to pose by the street light. He blabbers on something about composition and colours that goes straight over your head but you can’t deny that the picture came out ridiculously well. You might have to change all your socials with a new profile picture.

“See? You can thank me with a kiss,” he says, a cheeky smile across his face.

You press your lips to his cheek in a swift motion, a smack sound resounding from it. It was uncalled for, you think, because Ten freezes for a few seconds in an uncharacteristic manner. He shakes his head, a scream dying in his throat before turning to you with the most scandalized look.

“Oh my god, what did you do that for?” he says, rubbing at his cheek in a teasing manner.

You wrap your arms around him, furthering his protests although he ends up smiling wide. “You asked for it, honey.”

“Nicknames are my thing. Stop trying to copy me, it’s embarrassing.”

"Okay, now let's take a picture together," you suggest pulling him closer.

He clicks his tongue and takes the phone from you, and when his hand rests upon the small of your back, you try to freeze up. His face is near yours, not unlike the usual but you feel your heartbeat hike up. It's a strange feeling.

"Now, can we go home?" Ten asks, handing you your phone. "I can't believe your background is rilakkuma."

"I'll change it," you respond, voice strangely quiet. You're only half smiling but Ten's smile is full and bright, eyes honey-pure. "To us."

Ten hums in satisfaction and offers his hand like a gentleman from another century, something you tend to exaggerate and you take it with a laugh. The two of you walk with entangled arms and playful skips over the pavement, getting the same old looks from passersby as you did as children and teenagers. The traffic lights glow a gentle hue below the mature blue evening sky, fading easily. You realize as gently as waves lapping at the shore that you missed Ten so bad it still hurts in the hole he left.

act ii scene ii.

Any weekend in a boring little town of flowers starts with the news of parties. It used to be Johnny sending invites but now it’s mostly just Yukhei calling people for impromptu college parties. Now, you are aware that college parties are horrendous in every shape and form; you are also aware that the two hour car ride to the city college isn’t safe. But it’s easy to ignore hackneyed advice to stay away from parties and alcohol and weed when you’re young and have a ridiculously large group of friends.

The drive isn’t the worst part. At least the drive to the party isn’t; the drive back is usually too hazed to be memorable. Sicheng’s driving this time and with a lot of grumbling but he gets enough pitiful pats to the back and cheek to stop it. Ten has his feet up on the dashboard, having called shotgun before you by one fucking second. You’re stuck with Sooyoung and Johnny in the backseat, sandwiched uncomfortably at that, but you lean forward enough to nag Ten the whole time.

“(name),” Sooyoung calls in a sing-song voice. “Your overly affectionate looks for Ten are showing and it’s not even eleven yet.”

You furrow your eyebrows, stammering out a response and regretting it immediately. “You’re- You’ve been teasing me about this forever.”

“No, she’s right,” Johnny joins in. “Come on, there isn’t even alcohol involved. Yet.”

You roll your eyes, shrinking into yourself as the two of them laugh on either side of you. Sicheng says something along the lines of ‘nauseating’ and ‘idiotic’ but he gets an elbow jab from Ten.

“I’m driving,” he hisses.

“Into every sidewalk we come across?” Ten shoots back.

Another bout of laughter rings through, and this time you can smile too. It’s not that you’re particularly bothered by the teasing; it’s just uncharted territories you have no desire to chart. You always thought you’d meet Prince Charming on a balcony in a summer evening, and this is optional, but it should happen with ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift playing in the background. It’s quite inane to assume it would be your best friend, whom you have spent countless summer evenings listening to old Taylor Swift songs with.

Before you were aware of college house parties, you thought things like these would be more of a less-people-more-booze sort of situation. Turns out, the alcohol to people ratio is nearly the same. Stumbling out of the entrance to the frat house, Yukhei greets the lot of you with a dazed smile before promptly throwing up into the bushes. Rolling your eyes, you pat his back while Sooyoung gets some water from her purse.

“How many drinks was it this time, Yukhei?” Ten teases. “Half? Three-quarters? No wait, that’s a stretch.”

“Very funny,” Yukhei mutters, somehow still upbeat despite his continuous retching. “I bet you’d be drunk after a shot of whatever the hell I had too.”

Adjusting his jacket, Ten narrows his eyes at Yukhei with an incredulous look. “Okay, you’re on. Let’s go.”

Sicheng raises his hands alarmed, but Ten has disappeared into the swarms of people before any sound can leave him.

“He was supposed to drive on the way back,” Sicheng complains. He opens his mouth in sudden realization and then turns to you. You look from him to Johnny and Sooyoung who share a look and walk briskly into the party with a thumbs-up gesture.

“Oh. Oh no,” you say.

“No, yes,” Sicheng responds.

You shake your head and laugh before sprinting inside, Sicheng’s yells of protest fading out.

Yukhei wasn’t kidding when he said his frat hosts the craziest parties. There’s far too many people here, at least far too many for Ten to have fun. You like the energy of the crowd though, all in their own zones and dancing to old party pop songs. The smell of alcohol hits you so strong at first that you have to take a breather in the little garden space they have. It’s more of an overgrown shrubbery instead of a garden but any green will do. Walking back in, you feel much more comfortable when you take a shot of vodka from a girl passed out on the couch. Laughing, you look around for familiar faces. Parties, however, are not the place to look for faces at all. You think you just spotted a fur neck warmer tied around a dude’s waist while he performs some Neanderthal variant of belly dancing.

You bump into a guy of fairly tall stature, a polite apology tumbling from his lips.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you chuckle in amusement. “You’re not a party kind of guy, are you?”

He stares at you with a placid expression, intrigued. “And how would you know?”

“First, you’re not drunk. Two, you look grossed out by those dudes on the bar table. Three, you’re making conversation with me instead of dancing.”

“So you’re saying I can’t make conversation and dance at the same time.”

“I’m sorry, Mister, but you look like you’d rather not dance at all.”

He laughs. “That’s your way of saying I have a stick up my ass, isn’t it?”

You shrug, giving him your friendliest smile. “I prefer talking to drinking too. What’s your name? I need to know the name of the only sober guy in here.”

“Doyoung,” he answers. “Something tells me you’re not going to give me the same pleasure of knowing your name.”

You smile, pressing your index finger to your lips. “Names at parties are better left unknown.”

Something about him is inherently attractive, and you find yourself drawing nearer. Perhaps you could have a more fun night this way. “It’s much more fun to guess. Now, I’m guessing your party-loving best friend dragged you in here so you could get laid.”

He sighs, smiling at you. “I’m actually part of the frat.”

You gasp, hand covering your mouth. “No way.”

“Someone sober has to oversee whatever the hell’s going on here.” He shrugs. “Now, and this isn’t a guess, but you’re not from our college.”

“Nope. I’m from that little flower town nearby.”

“Ah, I heard there’s a lovely dahlia field there.”

You nod. “And me. Just as lovely.”

You bite your tongue. That was certainly not sexy enough flirting. Ten has been rubbing off on you with his lame comebacks. Doyoung, however, laughs really loud at that. He must have a worse sense of humour than you thought.

You turn sharply at the sound of your name. Ten seems to be waving at you from a table of beer pong, looking rather distressed. You wave back with a bothered look on your face, aggressively signaling for him to handle his shit alone. He pouts and signals more desperately for you to come. Sighing, you turn to Doyoung.

“Sorry,” you say. “My friend seems to be in a pinch. Either that or he’s attention starved again in a record time of eight minutes.”

Doyoung laughs. “I liked talking to you.”

“I liked talking to you too, plot twist.”

“Is that what you’re calling me now?” Doyoung smiles at you. "Ah, I tend to forget but someone always comes along and shows me how friendships are made."

With one last smile, you leave him and walk halfway through to Ten before realizing you forgot to ask for Doyoung’s number. It’s too late to turn back now for the crowd blocks your version and you begrudgingly make your way to Ten. So much for your fun night.

“What was so important that you had to pull me away from the only attractive dude in this party?” you say, crossing your arms.

“Who, Doyoung?” he asks. “I’m at least six times hotter. And anyway, help me win this.”

You roll your eyes. If Ten knows Doyoung, you can somehow finagle your way into getting his number.

“I suck at this game,” Ten mutters. “How the hell is it supposed to hit its mark when the cup is so far away?”

“You have shitty aim,” you say, taking the ping pong ball and throwing it right into the cup. Smirking at the dude who’s already wasted on the other side, you turn back to Ten.

“That’s how you play.”

“Maybe you just have magic hands. Kiss my balls for good luck—wait, fuck, I didn’t mean that.”

You throw your head back and laugh at the disgusted look on his face. Sometimes Ten forgets to think before he opens his mouth and it might be surprising, but he does think before most things he says. He’s always been careful in the subtlest ways.

“I hate this game,” Ten says after missing the cup again.

“Let me teach you,” you say, moving behind him and taking his hand holding the ball. He stiffens before letting you guide the angle of projection as you throw. It lands right in despite the wobbly beginning and you grin at him.

“I’m so done with this party,” he whispers, hands on his hips and stretching much like a cat after a nap.

You giggle. “I didn’t drink enough to forget everything that’s ever hurt me though.”

“You’re hurt?” he asks, before clearing his throat. “If you wanna stay, I’ll stay too.”

“I’m not a child, you know?” you say, smiling incredulously. “I don’t need you babysitting me.”

“I don’t need you talking to any more Doyoungs. You know his body count?”

“That guy?” you ask, jaw dropping.

“It’s not that much actually,” Ten continues, smiling deviously. “More than what you expect from a guy in law though. You can shut your jaw.”

You huff. “How do you know though? Did you sleep with him?”

Ten wrinkles his nose. “I would rather eat your baking than sleep with him.”

“Hey.”

Right then, the two of you are approached by a now-sober Yukhei. He must have vomited enough alcohol out of his system by now. Johnny stays beside him with mild worry across his features. Sicheng on the other hand looks like his social battery has drained out already.

“It’s time for a drinking game!” Yukhei tells the two of you. “With the… uh… not so drunk people.”

“So just the five of us? Where’s Sooyoung?”

“Doting over Yeri,” Johnny answers.

“Ah.”

“Let’s play something if you guys actually want me to stay and not die of boredom,” Sicheng mumbles in annoyance.

"Truth or drink?" Yukhei suggests.

"Hell no," you mutter. "I've had enough of that."

"What, no dare this time," he insists with a wide smile and arms outstretched.

You hum. "What are you curious about anyway? I know you wanna know something."

Yukhei scratches the back of his head before glancing at Ten. "Well… have you two ever… I don't know, experimented with each other? Like you're best friends, right, so no hard feelings."

Ten furrows his brows, a gaze that's somewhere between a glare and a confused look.

"Experiment…?" He asks, almost afraid to.

"In bed," says Yukhei bluntly.

Ten turns a few shades darker in the face, noticeable even under the multi-colored party lights. You, on the other hand, pray your stunned expression isn't mistaken for the embarrassment you feel. You're not sure why the feeling arises.

"(Name) wishes," Ten jokes, playing it off.

You roll your eyes. "You wish, asshole."

Yukhei pulls a face and raises a hand to interrupt. "Please don't start another lover's quarrel."

Sicheng snickers at the side, although you thought he wasn't listening. How on earth does this joke not get old to them?

"Anyway, my question is answered," Yukhei says. "Best friends who are in love with each other cannot sleep together but friends who are not… they can right?"

Sicheng hums in response, a teasing smile already on his lips. Ten groans and places his hand to the back of Sicheng's neck, almost threatening.

"What would you know about sex, Sicheng?" He bickers. "You're like virgin supreme."

You narrow your eyes. "And what would you know?"

Ten opens his mouth then closes it promptly. Sicheng and Yukhei on the other hand break into laughter, mentioning something about digging graves before taking their leave from the two of you. You really don't think either of them should be drinking—considering Yukhei's a lightweight and Sicheng is supposed to drive.

Ten smacks the back of your head and you yelp, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can.

"I was trying to help us there," he complains. "You're so unfun."

You mimic his statement and he tries to pinch you in the cheeks, which you expertly avoid.

"So tell me," you say. "Have you or have you not had sex?"

Ten sighs. "Okay, yeah fine. Guilty. Whatever."

"What happened to no flings in New York?"

"Didn't feel like telling you."

"Oh, I'm so hurt."

The two of you look at each other and burst into laughter, easy to forget the scores of people around you in the moment.

“So you definitely had a few flings in New York,” you say, crossing your arms with a smug smile.

“Like three, yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “What does it matter?”

Some part of you is satisfied with the way he doesn’t look too interested. It’s the ridiculous part of you. The clementine light over his features make them seem even gentler than usual and you smile, pressing the back of your hand to his cheek.

“Wha—”

“Mhm. Your cheeks are so warm.”

“Oh, so now I’m your personal heater.”

Ten places his hand over yours and your heartbeat hikes, and so easily too when he looks at you with his honey eyes.

“You know what, you’re right. This party’s getting boring.” You look around, as though pretending will help you any better. But then again if Shakespeare was onto something and all the world's a stage, then you never stop pretending, right?

Ten looks at you for a suggestion and the moment pauses, contemplation on both of your faces.

“Let’s just get Sicheng to drive us back,” you say finally. It’s not like you can stray too far for fear of Sicheng leaving behind the two of you (he’s done that before).

Sicheng jumps at the idea of going back and all of you have to participate in dragging drunk Sooyoung into the car and away from a slightly worn out Yeri. Thanking you and fixing her disheveled hair, she walks back into her own corner to what seems to be aggressively coding on her laptop and flipping the finger to any dude who approaches her. When work calls, you simply cannot hang up.

You and Ten are forced to sit together in the backseat now for Johnny sits shotgun, massaging his forehead from whatever hellsent concoction he made for himself and his friends. The drive is mostly quiet and you lay your head on Ten’s shoulder while Sooyoung snores beside you. It’s quiet like the laps of water between ripples. It feels so secure to stay like this, like the world cannot interrupt. You’ve missed your best friend. You’ve missed him so much.

You and Ten part ways with the others at the crossing and you don’t skip over the path as you used to, with the jovial youth you contained then. No, your steps are slower and perhaps more mature but still in pace with Ten’s just as ever. A cat waits by the entrance to your door, the same calico that has won over your mother’s heart and now waits patiently for treats. In a way, you kept feeding it because you thought of Ten whenever you did.

It seems these days, the only way to get kisses from Ten is to be a cat. He pets the cat with tender strokes and presses his face to its forehead with no fear of cat-borne diseases.

“Hey, Ten. What about me?” You pucker your lips at him and he presses his palm to your lips instead, snickering.

In these short moments, moments that barely last, do you feel the three years he’s been gone. It’s funny how people change and never realize they do. It’s funny how you’re in awe of every person he becomes.

“I missed your rooftop the most in New York,” Ten says.

You chuckle. “You hid there when your mom was mad at you.”

“Do you know how many slippers your rooftop has saved me from? I think your rooftop is more of a best friend to me than you are.”

You place your hand over your heart in mock hurt and he shakes his head, grinning.

“Well, let’s prove I’m more worthy of the best friend title then,” you say, grabbing his hand, the skin so soft to you, and dragging him into your house in quiet tiptoes. You remember coming up here back when you pretended to be pirates, when you acted out Shakespeare and when you wanted to forget the world, the terrible, cruel world you found yourself hating often. This is your hiding spot, a safe place. Ten makes it more so.

Lying down against the rooftop, you trace the sky from star to star. The good thing about small, dimly lit towns is the clear view of the stars. So far from troubles, it must be easy to play the audience.

“That looks a little like Felis,” Ten says, taking your hand and tracing a particular arrangement of the stars.

“Is that a… cat?”

“Yeah. It’s not a constellation anymore,” he tells you. “But I like to think it is.”

“I wish things never end too,” you mumble. “Like Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Or that new Taylor Swift song. I wish some things went on forever.”

Ten laughs airily. “I wish too.”

You turn to look at him. The curve of his nose is pretty as ever, eyelashes hanging close to the skin of his cheeks as he breathes with eyes closed. There’s a significant number of words you haven’t exchanged yet. There’s so many words you’re holding back.

“You seem tired,” you note.

He hums in response.

“Was New York that hard?”

He opens his eyes to look at you. “A little… tiring, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you can rest now.” You smile and he returns it.

“I’ve been running for so long and telling myself I’m still dancing,” he says, a sigh escaping afterwards. “I don’t even know where I am anymore.”

“You’re with me,” you respond. “Right here. On my rooftop.”

“Watching the stars again,” he completes, laughing aloud. “God, I wish we were kids again. All I cared about were the flavour of my cereal and how many constellations I could memorize.”

“The stars don’t give a shit about you, Ten,” you tease, repeating the line you used to tell him.

“The stars might not give a shit about us,” he agrees, “But that’s why I’d like to watch them a little longer.”

“Me too,” you say softly.

You take a deep breath and let it out. These are the moments between the bloom of a flower and when it is picked. These moments are serene and warm and gentle, however ephemeral they may be. These are the moments between the flapping of a butterfly's wings—times when you and Ten fell asleep in detention in fifth grade for something that was very much your fault, or when he pets your head with the biggest grin after pissing you off on purpose or the proximity of the baby blue sky after your latest shopping mall mischief. But the flower will be picked someday. To live is to live in fear, and no matter how you try to buzz out the idea of it, it will come and it will prove itself.

“Sometimes I wish I were an angrier person,” you say quietly.

“What for?”

“They just seem so much more driven.”

“You’re driven enough. I think you do everything right already.”

“Working at plant nurseries, maybe. I’m not even a good enough cashier.”

“Flowers suit you.”

“You know, I could spend my life picking flowers and arranging them if I could,” you say, sitting up. “Everything moves so fast that the garden’s gone by the time I get to smell the flowers. You get me?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I wish time could stop. Sometimes it does. When I’m on stage.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s very beautiful,” he whispers, eyes fixed on you.

It's quiet, the sounds of the night filling the space between you and him.

"You know, in dance," he starts, "the most powerful thing you can be is still. It's also the most difficult."

You hum in response. "I find it easy to be still with you though. It's like I don't have to perform anymore, you know?"

Ten laughs. "I know. I wish I could say that about my ambitions."

You place your palms against his cheeks, holding his face gently. You're not sure if it's because you're a little tipsy or Ten's lips that are driving you crazy, but you smile wide.

"You are like a flower," you begin rather wisely. "And spring hasn't arrived yet."

Ten blinks before snorting and then laughing like you just said the stupidest thing ever.

The downside to getting along like a house on fire is that the house is still on fire and you don’t know what to do about it. Your heart is burning and you want to tell him the words you’re holding back. But if they escape your mouth, the wind might carry it away and leave you with a heavy response. You can’t say anything yet. Not until you’ve mustered enough courage to leave this town behind with him. Not until you have enough financial confidence to fall in love.

“Hey, Ten.”

“Hm? Don’t ask me something stupid and ruin the night.”

You giggle. “Will you stay with me wherever I am?”

“A little overdue but yes, until death do us part.”

The two of you laugh, shoulders shaking and eyes brimming with an unsaid emotion. This is how you fall in love. You fall in love like flowers blossoming and withering, like you have only each other to withstand the test of time.

“Should we dance?” Ten offers. “This time, maybe you’ll finally learn to not step on my feet.”

“That just makes me want to step on your feet more.”

It's so easy to fall in love that you fall asleep to the feeling—like the nights after you watched cartoons well past bedtime and thought that Ten was the prettiest boy you'd ever seen, after reading illicit internet horror stories in seventh grade that only made you huddle closer, after creating a pillow fort in the name of memories the night of your graduation when you couldn't say out loud that Ten really is the prettiest boy you know. The feeling slips in like you slip on your night clothes and you forget they were ever off at all. Comfort is a fleeting thing but in that moment, it felt forever.

act ii scene iii.

Halloween is undoubtedly the greatest time to spend with friends. There’s spooky stories shared, an abundance of favourite candies and if you happen to be friends with theatre kids, there’s most certainly a fun play going on. The crisp autumn air is vaguely nostalgic, brimming with memories in this town.

Evening creeps in and once you’re done with the day’s chores, you get dressed with such speed that your mother has to convince you to slow down. It’s like you’re a kid again, and you'd like to enjoy this morsel of your childhood before you're forced to grow up.

Greeting Ten’s mother as you rush into the house, you run up the stairs and into Ten’s room, opening the door with a loud bang. Somehow, Ten’s scream is louder than that. He’s wearing a towel around his waist (only a towel), hands covering his chest with a horrified look on his face.

"Stop screaming," you say, hands on your hips. "We've seen each other naked, what's the big deal? Actually, do that pitch again, you sound like Meryl Streep from Mamma Mia."

Ten chokes, covering his mouth with his knuckles while he coughs.

"We were like four and a half! How does that count?"

You giggle, turning around. "Change. Quick."

"I mean, you can see if you like, darling," he calls, liltingly. "I know you can't resist me. Ugh. Can't stand all this pining from a friend."

You make a gagging sound and he laughs. It seems like he’s gotten over the initial shock of you barging in. The sound of the wardrobe opening and Ten shuffling through clothes follows. You are glad, however, that he can't see the look on your face. You must be looking ridiculous. You wonder if he can see how tense your shoulders and torso are. This is not the way you wanted to start the evening. Can he tell apart the distinct nervousness in your voice? It's suddenly difficult to play it cool. And isn't playing it cool something you do in front of a crush?

You catch a glimpse of his naked back and it makes you shake your head violently to get rid of the thought. How ridiculous. You can’t be lovers yet.

“Alright, you can turn around. What the fuck are you even supposed to be?”

"Say hello to the wicked witch of the West!" You exclaim, grinning ear to ear when you jump around.

"Oh, you don't have to dress up for that."

Your smile turns into a pout and you pull hard at his still-soft cheeks. He lets out a pained whine, grabbing your wrists and gently tugging them off. His skin turns red easily, however, and you're left with an image of rosy-cheeked Ten just like when you first met.

“You’re a demon spawn,” he hisses, rubbing his sore cheek.

“No, that’s definitely your thing. Can’t borrow that,” you say, crossing your arms and smiling smugly. “Why aren’t you dressed as one? Actually, why aren’t you dressed as anything?”

Ten shrugs. “I have to wear some ridiculous ghost outfit for the play so I decided I’d rather play the part of a sexy pirate ghost.”

You snort, looking at the half-buttoned white shirt tucked neatly into black trousers. “You? A ghost? A poltergeist is the word you’re looking for.”

Ten rolls his eyes. “If I were a ghost, I’d definitely haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Okay, ghost boy, let’s get going.” You loop your arms through his and pull him out, leaving in just as much a whirlwind as you walked in. You do walk back in though—to stuff a few of the cookies Ten’s mom baked in your mouth and walk right out with a muffled ‘thank you’ and your hand still around Ten’s wrist.

Arriving at the theatre, Ten catches his breath though he tries to not look worn out before squinting and making a show of searching for something.

“What are you looking for?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“The train you thought we were going to miss.”

You stick your tongue out and finally let go of his hand. He pulls it to himself, rubbing at his wrist with an exaggerated look of pain.

“Oh, it’s still intact. Thought I’d have to bid farewell to my dreams of being a professional calligrapher.”

“Eat ink, Ten.”

“Ooh, it’s the rare PG-13 (name). Nice.”

A loud bang emanates from the back entrance, Sicheng looking like a rather mortified Count Dracula (which is strange because Dracula is immortal, right?) with fake blood splattered across his jaw and two little fangs poking out. Ten no wastes no time in complimenting them, making Sicheng rather flustered.

“It was bad enough having to listen to your flirting through the door,” Sicheng mutters. “Get in. Quick. Sooyoung pulled out and we need someone to fill in.”

Your eyes light up and Sicheng is about to deny your wishes when Ten intervenes.

“(name). You get to play a slightly deranged witch with a most definitely existing bloodlust. You in?”

“You bet I am! I was born ready. Except in sixth grade when I had that meh phase and I wasn’t born ready. Then I was born ready again!”

Sicheng makes a face. “Yeah sure, just get in.”

“Aren’t you glad I’m dressed for the occasion?”

“Not really, no.”

Ten whistles when he walks in. “How much fake blood did you guys get?”

“Enough to re-enact Red Wedding from Game of Thrones,” Johnny answers from a corner, in a costume which you can’t tell if it’s a werewolf or just a fursuit. You can never seem to guess when it comes to Johnny.

Ten laughs before turning to you, the sound tuning out. “I have never watched Game of Thrones.”

You pat his shoulder, laughing. In the next moment, Sicheng pushes a script towards you, expecting you to actually read.

“Sicheng, you know I’m going to improvise.”

Sicheng groans. “Shakespeare was right. Hell is empty and all the demons are here.”

Throwing a pointed glare at you when he says the word ‘demons’, he crosses his arms. It’s easy to convince him though—he’s quite amenable when he’s stressed out about details and both you and Ten know he just needs some reassurance and good, gentle shove.

You and Ten sit on either side of him on a really, really worn out couch that you’re not sure can hold the weight of the three of you.

Sicheng holds up his hands in both of your faces before you can open your mouth.

“I feel like the child of a really immature couple who is forced to grow up at a tender age because his parents are so immature.”

“Uh,” Ten starts. “That’s very specific.”

“The character I’m playing has daddy issues,” Sicheng responds casually, and a little out of it. “Actually he’s got mommy issues too. Why am I playing an eight year old?”

“Because children are crap at acting,” Ten answers and you reach your arm to smack the back of his head.

“What? Ow, that hurt.”

“Sicheng, it’s our stupid Halloween play. We do it to have fun,” you say, placing your hand

“You going all motherly is freaking me out,” Sicheng says, wide eyes staring at you.

“You’re right,” you say, dramatically sighing. “Motherhood changed me. I can’t do evil black magic anymore. Aha! That’s a good dialogue, isn’t it?”

“Harrowing, actually, but I guess that’s what you’re going for.”

You and Ten share a fond smile, laughing to yourselves till Joohyun calls you and gives you basic stage direction. She’s almost never home except for Halloween and it makes the holiday even more exceptional.

“Ready, Wicked Witch of the West?” Ten nudges you before he has to go on stage.

“Wait, is that actually my character?”

“No. No, it isn’t. For the love of cats—the animal, not the musical—please just keep speaking and make it worse on stage. I need a recording to laugh at.”

You roll your eyes and push him on. He looks so at peace there, the conversation from that night coursing in remembrance. It’s like everything is still, the lack of motion driving him to move.

You never understand it yourself, however, when you’re on stage. You blabber like an idiot, as Ten says, and the audience laughs and that is it. You don’t experience what he does and it sometimes drives you a little crazy. Of course, you adding a pregnancy narrative to your witch does throw the rest of the cast for a loop but they handle it well. You just have to make sure you run as fast as you can from Joohyun after the play is done.

“Good job there,” Ten snickers after you duck behind a curtain as Joohyun passes by with furrowed brows and a frown.

“I know right? I’m literally Oscar-worthy,” you whisper-yell and Ten shakes his head.

“Come on.” This time his hand grips your wrist. “I know the best way to sneak out of this theatre.”

Taking a flight of stairs that you were previously unaware of, you plunge into the darkness of what seems to be an attic. Ten turns on the flashlight of his phone and you yelp, the lighting not helping his already spooky makeup. He laughs before navigating through a bunch of boxes.

“I heard they used to use this room as an execution chamber,” Ten whispers.

“They did not. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Okay fine. I did cry here though after reading an internet article about ill-fated lovers in ancient Asia.”

“Ugh. Truly horrifying.”

“Yeah, yeah. Emotions terrify you.”

“They do not.”

Ten stops walking.

“Oh yeah? Got any proof?”

You stop yourself before you can do something embarrassing. The first thought that came to you was to kiss the smug look off his face and it does terrify you. The bastard is right.

“I… cried at your birthday party.”

“You were six. Everyone cries when they’re six.”

“Alright, fine. I cried after you left.”

The silence makes you look up and for once, you don’t really want Ten to be so speechless. You punch his shoulder lightly.

“I missed you a lot,” you say quietly. “Is that so surprising?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out.

“Hello? Anyone inside?” You knock at his forehead before holding his face between your face. “You’re shivering. It’s pretty cold here.”

“I’m not cold,” he says quickly, the red rising in his face.

“Of course, you’re cold. Your cheeks are aflame, that’s how cold it is.”

Ten shuts off the flashlight and you scream at the abrupt darkness.

“It’s not from the cold,” he mumbles.

Now left with only Ten’s warm hand around your wrist, you let him guide through wherever the hell it is you are before emerging onto the second floor of 1075 Building.

“What the hell?” You gasp. “Why wasn’t I aware there was a secret passage here? Is this what archaeologists feel like? ”

Ten smiles, in some sort of victory. “You don’t know a lot of things.”

You walk into the empty room, or rather wiggle in through the window—this building used to be some sort of housing apartment before being torn down halfway for renovation. Some ghost stories spooked the workers too much to continue. However, having been here long enough, you know that the only thing haunting this place is the abundance of cats. In fact, you can see a few eyeing the two of you from the other windowsills. The room is fairly well-lit and maintained so you guess the renovation will start again soon.

“You got us pizza?” you exclaim at the pizza boxes and cans of cola resting over a little picnic blanket.

“Yes, I did. Wait, crap, I forgot the candy.”

“Nah, that’s okay.” You show him the Reese’s peanut butter cups and Snickers you had pocketed from some unsuspecting children. They get way too many anyway. This is completely morally justified—you’re doing this to save them from cavities and poor health.

“I can’t believe you’d ever want to escape a theatre,” you say before humming at how good the pizza tastes. Pizza is always better when you’re having it someplace you’re not supposed to be in.

“Sometimes, it’s suffocating.” He finally bites into his pizza, an unreadable look over him. You don’t like it. Shifting closer so that your knees touch, you lean in a little.

“Oh, really? After all that talk about how beautiful it is.”

“It is. It just wears me out sometimes. Like you.”

Ten flushes red immediately. “I didn’t mean it—I, I… uh.”

“Aw, you think I’m beautiful.”

“Gah, I knew you’d say that.”

There’s a pause.

“I got kicked out, actually,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“I had some disagreements with the writers and… and here I am.”

You look at him in stunned silence. “They did fucking what? I’m going to kill them.”

“No, (name). I was at fault. I overstepped. I guess city air made me a little greedy.”

“You were always greedy though.”

“If that’s your example of sympathy, you are horrible at it. Never try again.”

“Well.” You smile reassuringly. “You’re quite beautiful on stage. Too. Like me, as you said.”

“I’m a performer,” he says, a hint of satisfaction in his voice when he leans in. “You can’t beat me at that.”

“Then put on a show for me, darling.” You raise an eyebrow, a cocky smile over your lips.

Ten’s cheeks colour. It’s silent for a few moments and you take notice of the lack of distance between your noses, your lips. He seems to lose touch with reality when he gently cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. A soft gasp escapes you, not quite ready for the contact.

Ten pulls apart immediately, a look of horror in his eyes.

“I- I’m sorry… I got caught in the—I’m sorry.”

He gets up abruptly and you still sit there in shock. When your senses are back, the room is empty and you hug yourself, feeling colder. God, you’re an idiot. For the first time in your life, you’ve come to your senses and you decide to let the only person you’ve loved walk out the door.

Your texts to him that night aren’t even left on read but you know he’s read the notifications. He always does when he’s avoiding someone. You feel the weight slithering in, pinning you down and making it hard to sleep that night. You have so many things you want to say to him and this time, you’re ready. Even if fate doesn’t let you, you will speak the lines you should have chosen much earlier.

act ii scene iv.

You don’t have anyone to show it to but the news broke you.

The idea of him keeping it all to himself, bearing burdens that are better shared makes your heart collapse its walls into itself. You’re supposed to be there. You were supposed to be there from every pitfall to the top of the world. You were supposed to be at every stage, at every afterparty and for every bout of performance high. You didn’t mean to leave the seat empty.

You were supposed to be there at every rejection and every failure, making fun of all the troubles.

You get a text from Ten two mornings later to meet up at the new cafe everyone’s been talking about. It takes you the rest of the morning to practise what you’ll say, what you won’t and how you’ll say it. You’ve never done this much for actual plays. But you’re not acting—you just need the words to come out right.

The wall of the cafe is covered in ivy, but you cannot waste time admiring it. Your nerves have the best of you. You stop at the entrance, backtracking to say your entire speech in your head once again. The most important friendship of your life depends on this stupid monologue you came up with a night before in front of the mirror.

“(name).”

You jump, finding Ten behind you. His nose is a little red from the cold but he looks fine apart from that. You can’t believe you’re early. This might be the first time in your life and you breathe out, slightly more confident.

“Can you… uh, not block the door?”

“Right. Sorry.”

The two of you walk in, a nervous tremble over your fingers but you clasp your hands together tight. He still remembers your favourite drink and you take a moment to try and understand why it’s surprising at all. You wish he never left.

“Ten,” you begin. “If you want to talk about that kiss—”

“Stop. I’m sorry. That was so out of line.” He lets out a distressed sigh, leaning back in the chair.

“It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” you say quickly. That was not in the speech.

He sits up. “I… Am I taking things too seriously? You’ve been my longest friend, (name). You should tell me.”

You frown. “I didn’t mean it in a harsh way. You just think it’s bad because you kissed your best friend and—”

“No. What do you think?”

You gulp.

“See, (name)? I lied because it fucking hurts right now. I don’t want to play this part.”

“No, Ten. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you so many things but there’s the city, your job—oh. I- I don’t mean to bring it up if the wound is still fresh. Ten—”

“You don’t understand,” he cuts. “You’ve always been happy here. You’re happy wherever. I’m not… like… that.”

There’s a pause. You pull your jacket closer, the temperature dropping despite the smell of warm baked goods and hit coffee.

“I thought you knew me,” you whisper coldly.

Ten looks away. “I don’t. I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know anything about anything.”

You breathe sharply. “Ten, I know the city was tough but it’s all you ever wanted.”

“I don’t know what I want,” he whispers. “I don’t know where I belong and- and it just keeps getting harder.”

Your eyes soften. “At least, you were there at Broadway. You took the first step and maybe… maybe you can make a priority list, you know? Work things out.”

“(name), stop. You keep trying to cheer me up in the wrong way.” He dips his face into his palms, rubbing at it and sighing.

You purse your lips. This conversation is going nowhere and you’re holding onto the last shred of your empathy. You just want him back with you.

“You got to go out there, Ten. You went to college, you went to New York. You got to go out there and live your dreams, for whatever it was worth, while I’m stuck in this nothing town. Forever.”

“That’s… that’s not true,” he says, voice breaking. “You were saving up for college. We would live in the same city, in the same apartment with the cats and the hot pink curtains and a coffee maker—oh god, I’ve ruined it.”

It’s painful. You don’t know what to say. If this were a movie, the beautiful, romantic kind, you’d be confessing your long-kept feelings. But you don’t know. You don’t know anything about anything. It’s been a year and he’s changed in a way you don’t know and you can’t throw it onto him like this. This isn’t a movie, and you don’t have a script. Your practised words are forgotten as soon as they reach the tip of your tongue.

People change, and you’re holding onto someone he’s already buried. He’s not in love with you; teenage love is shaky, wobbly at the foundation. He misses the years, not you. You’ve known him your whole life and yet a year’s difference makes you see things differently. You were lonely without him. You were lonely when you had to keep yourself from calling him, when you finally decided to stop sending daily texts, when you couldn’t find the same comfort in any of your other friends. You hurt him and now, you have to face it.

You pick wilting flowers at an overgrown garden.

No, even if it isn’t you, you want him. You want him and him only, the years be damned. The past pales in comparison to what is now.

“I’m in love with you,” you blurt. “I was just shocked last night because I didn’t think you were in love with me.”

“You’re not in love with me,” he counters. “You’ve been in love with so many people but none of them were me.”

“You. It’s you—oh my god, it was always you.”

Ten glances at his untouched cup, yet undecided on what to do with his fingers when they stop tapping against the bright red plastic table abruptly.

“So what? So what if it was me? I don’t know what it’s like to play that part.”

You breathe out. There’s a silence between the two of you, one which you remember hanging stars upon. Now it's quiet in a way that has nothing to do with astronomy, or art, or music or anything, really. It’s empty. Like every other silence.

“I loved you,” you whisper in an attempt that is more delirious than for closure. “Do you really not know what that’s like?”

Ten shakes his head. “I… I don’t.”

The memories of him smiling under the sun, only memories keep your tears from brimming up. There was meant to be closure. There was meant to be an explanation. You were supposed to be closing that door you opened into each other. Ten looks at your shaking hands and for a moment, you think he might even reach out and warm them up with his sunlit ones. You press them to your face and breathe into them.

“You brought me all the way here to lie to me?”

Ten furrows his eyebrows.

“I’m not lying—I can’t care about you. You know that, right? I’ll ruin your life. Like I’ve ruined mine.”

You laugh, partly in exasperation and partly as an attempt to alleviate the pain in your chest.

“You’re my boy. I know you better than anything else I know.”

“Don’t- Don’t do that. Don’t make me want something more.”

"Why would you kiss me?" You bite down your lip to stop yourself from crying.

Ten seems at a loss for words, looking at you with parted lips and guilty eyes.

"I love you. I'm sorry."

With your eyes downcast, you take a shaky breath. It's now or never. Never, never, never. The word chimes like wedding bells and you think for a moment, to lie. If you pretend, if you act, you'll live it out. He cannot stay and you cannot leave. What a ridiculous pair you are.

You squeeze your eyes shut, get up and lean over the table to place a kiss against Ten's mouth. You pull away with reluctance, looking at the quiet surprise in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I got… I got caught in the moment."

Ten stares at you soundlessly, mouth moving and yet no words come out. Instead, he runs his fingers through your hair before placing his hand on your cheek and leans in again. There's a red flush over his cheeks and it makes you feel at ease.

"I didn't want to hold you back," you say after parting. "Or at least, that's what I told myself. But this year without you has been so painful."

Ten doesn't say anything.

"I… I didn't know what I felt and- and I was so scared… I didn't mean to hurt you. I hate that I did."

“I was afraid,” he says, breathing out like he was holding it in. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t care if I came back.”

Time treats everything poorly. This time, you’ll try your best to win against it. Ten breaks into a wide, relieved smile and you laugh, rubbing at the tears that collected. God, you were so afraid you wouldn't ever be able to talk to each other anymore. Every room you’ve been in without Ten has been so empty that you had stopped opening doors at all. The coffee is hot and tastes better than ever.

You dream of something as ridiculous as the love you feel for Ten.

There's a cat in the sky, made of stars and with a booming, deep voice—and you, you are little and insignificant on a forgotten rooftop. It is serene, in quiet contemplation, and you are looking at it like a neglected child at its mother. You ask something without words and it responds without words.

All of sudden, the image disappears and you find yourself in a garden, picking flowers. The clothes you wear are not yours, the face you wear is not yours. But Ten, you'd recognise him anywhere, any time, in another lifetime.

You could see the clear distinction between the two of you however. You wore robes of royalty, the auspicious gold embroidery glistening, and he, that of a performing artist in quiet sage green. The blue irises that grew around you paid no heed to your colours and you had the thought that you should be like them. Vivid, smiling and never alone.

Ten greets you with a smile first and then stretches out his arms. You run to him, with enough force to knock the two of you onto the soft, grassy ground. No one will find the two of you here, in this flower bed. You remember thinking that royalty puts on just as much a show as theatre actors.

You didn't have to remember all of it to know that the story was a tragedy, carefully crafted by divine writers and painters. It was cruel, as is every writer's hand. You see him last under a beautiful sunset before an execution, the words ‘please’ on his lips and no hint of resentment in his smile. It was unlike him. It was so unlike him.

You hug yourself. He shouldn’t have forgiven you so easily. It takes you a few moments to come back to your senses; this is not you. That person in your dreams wasn’t you—why did you have to feel all that pain? That person in your dream watched their lover die—no, let their lover die as though discarding a messed up sketch. Cruel. It was so cruel.

The burning idea sprouts in your mind that it was the original script. That perhaps you were cruel and he was not and it’s been that way since forever. That if you don’t do something about it, you’ll be the villain once more. It's as scary to be young as it is lively—and not for once, did you ever think that villains were children too.

ACT III: HAPPINESS

act iii scene i.

If the world were to end tomorrow, Ten would spend tonight dancing with you. He says it so easily that you forget to tease him about it.

“Not like that,” he instructs, eyebrows furrowed. “Do this.”

“I am doing this.” You huff, crossing your arms.

“No, you’re not—holy shit, your arms are made of lead.”

You punch him in the shoulder and he stumbles, losing his balance. He sits down on his bed, leaning back on his arms and laughs. You join him and sit down on the fuzzy rug. He gets off immediately to sit beside you.

“I mean, you’re not that bad,” he says with a shrug.

You mimic his statement, rolling your eyes and he attacks your side with an unannounced bout of tickling. The last time you did this, you were a foot shorter and no high school dating rumours were flying around. The last time you did this, you didn’t end up kissing, limbs entangled with each other. December feels like June.

Ten pulls away from you, hovering over to kiss you once again before kissing turns into giggling which turns into laughter.

“I like this," you say quietly.

"Kissing me?" He asks with a sly grin.

"It's actually a little disappointing. Thought you'd be a ten at kissing."

"Atrocious. Disgusting. Vile. Never say that to me again."

You stick your tongue out at him and he does the same, the afternoon torpor settling in heavy as you cuddle into each other. It’s nostalgic almost but at the same time, so very new. You want to talk to him for hours and hours but when the hours end, it never feels enough. An ending is what you despise. Your thoughts meander.

“I had a nightmare,” you confess suddenly.

There’s a very brief pause. Before Ten even says anything, his arms reach out, pulling you into him. It’s warm and you smile.

“Was it your own face you saw?”

“Fuck you. You ruined the moment.”

“We were having a moment?”

You elbow him in the gut and he lets out a grunt of pain, the two of you moving away from each other just to glare. Ten caves first, sliding closer to you and placing his palm against your cheek.

“Can we resume our moment?” he asks, eyes crinkling when he smiles.

You press your forehead to his, your breathing in perfect coordination. This feels easy. This feels right. You pull away and look at him, the silence encasing your moment with him.

“I saw you in it. I… I lost you in it.” You bite your lower lip, avoiding his gaze.

“Hey. It was just a bad dream. I’m right here.” Ten draws closer, his breath mingling with yours and the warmth seeps into you just enough to forget the cold night.

“You know what would cheer me up from a nightmare?” You nudge him.

“If you say visiting the graveyard—god, fuck, you’re gonna say visiting the graveyard. My suggestion is that you see a therapist.”

“I would if I had the money,” you retort.

Ten shrugs before furrowing his eyebrows. “Are we actually going to the graveyard? You know there are like graves there.”

“That’s… why it’s called a graveyard.”

“Don’t get smart with me, you failed seventh grade English.”

“You failed sixth grade math, Ten. Sixth grade. They teach you like fractions and shit then.”

“Do I look like I need to add three-fourths and one-eighths ever in my life?”

You shake your head before getting up with a burst of energy, and pick up your jacket from his bed.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” You start to chant at Ten until he reluctantly gets up. The sun is quite far from setting down yet and everyone knows the perfect time to visit a grave is twilight. Maybe the stone will give your life enough perspective to ease your anxious thoughts.

The town cemetery is located by the bed of dahlias which have withered in the seasonal cycle of life and death. There’s a light breeze and your jacket is just enough to withstand it. The sky is orange and pink and the graveyard doesn’t seem as looming as it does in the dead of night (which you know because you’ve visited at two in the morning on a stupid bet with Johnny and somehow Ten was the one scared shitless). You’ve heard stories of the soldiers who were buried here, the women who led the first revolution and everyone else who never got to grace history books. You’ve never enjoyed history much but you can’t gainsay that it puts everything into perspective.

Nothing else matters at the wedding altar and at the grave.

Ten makes a face at the iron gates of the cemetery. “Okay. We’ve had our adventure. Can we please go get our evening snacks?”

“I love it when you’re antsy, Ten.”

He gives you a sardonic smile. “And I like it better when we’re in my bedroom.”

You gasp dramatically, placing your hand in front of your mouth lightly. “That’s quite scandalous of you, good sir.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling. “I consider myself something of a modern man, you see?”

You skip over the steps to the gates and do a curtsy before gesturing to the entrance. He complies with a sigh of reluctance and lets you take his hand as you pull him in.

A loud voice startles the two of you and Ten smacks his mouth before he can scream and embarrass himself.

“What business do you have here, trespassers?” The voice echoes through the graveyard.

You look around at the trees and squint at what seems to be some children wearing masks and giggling to themselves. You roll your eyes. Johnny told you some of the town kids were mucking about near the graveyard to spook passersby.

“You really should get back home for dinner, kids,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Silence, trespasser! You will answer our questions to pass.”

Ten bites back a laugh. “Alright, kids. Shoot.”

“Are the two of you criminals married?”

Ten wrinkles his nose. “Do we look that old?”

“Okay! Next question. Did the two of you ever… do it?”

“What?” you ask, tilting your head.

Ten groans. “You can say sex, you know? Don’t be pussies.”

You elbow him in the side and he yelps.

“Those are kids,” you whisper.

“I think they’re old enough if they’re asking,” he whispers back.

“No,” you answer the same time he answers “Yes”.

“What?” You look at him in surprise.

He shrugs, somewhat guilty. “New York,” he responds in a meek voice. “You know?”

You snicker before it turns to laughter. “Why do you look like that? It’s not a crime to have sex—how the fuck did you even get some though?”

“It’s called having sex appeal. Ever heard of it?”

You roll your eyes, opening your mouth to say something when one of the kids clears his throat.

“Okay! You may pass.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “You really just the wanted to ask us about sex, didn’t you?”

“Let’s go, boys!” The kid declares before stopping abruptly. “And girl.”

A group of kids emerges from behind the trees and flock to a hole in the stone wall, laughing amongst themselves as they run out.

“Wow. Kids these days, huh?” Ten says.

“When we were their age, we convinced Yukhei to poke a beehive.”

“Okay, we were asshole kids but no one ever really told us bees were deadly.”

You walk further into the graveyard, beelining towards the same graves you visit often. They’re unnamed but they died sometime in the nineteenth century. Time passes in a way that is hard to comprehend—all these people and stories are never remembered and time is the only witness. Perspective is a luxury to those who have the time to look.

“Why do you like coming here?” Ten asks quietly, eyeing the gravestones with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“For perspective,” you answer truthfully.

He hums, a somewhat understanding note in his voice.

“They only lived for twenty-four years,” you note.

“The world ends too soon sometimes.”

“Kind of sucks.”

“Really sucks.”

The wind is cold when it passes the two of you by. Ten shivers and zips his jacket before checking up on you, fixing your jacket to cover you better.

“When I leave this place, I hope I have a nice farewell,” you whisper.

Ten raises his eyebrow. “Don’t you want it to be an awful, everyone’s-crying sort of affair?”

“No,” you respond, giving him a confused look.

“I want at least one person to be crying,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“That’s kind of—wait a minute.” You glare at him. “You don’t have to use that against me. I wasn’t crying crying.”

“I’m not! I mean it. Like, I want to mean something to someone.”

You draw near enough to link your arms, sighing at the warmth emanating.

“And you’re lying. I know you sobbed right into the pillow like a dramatic ass Disney princess.”

“You’re the one with a flair for drama.” You chuckle.

Ten makes a reluctant sound of agreement, crossing his arms. As he looks at the graves, there’s an expression on his face you can’t quite fathom. It could be mourning—but the graves are nameless, or it could be pity—but he believes that pity is not a positive emotion to feel. You want to ask but something keeps you from it. Something tells you that the answer won’t be pleasant for either of you.

“I hope I cry too,” he whispers. “When I leave and the curtain falls and the world ends.”

You look at him, pondering.

“When I leave,” he begins again, “I want it to hurt. When everything changes, I want it to hurt bad. Then I know it meant something.”

You slip your hand into his and squeeze. “If it means anything, you know I’ll cry if you leave.”

Ten laughs. “Yeah. So when you cried, was it the ugly snot cry or the silently sobbing kind of cry?”

“Fuck off.”

He opens his mouth to retort but gets a full kiss on the mouth instead, good enough to make him forget it. It’s a nice thing to get used to. If time permits, you could do everything together forever.

You return at twilight, grabbing some snacks and arguing whose Netflix account to use and the sun sets before you come to an agreement but it’s not winter anymore inside his room. In fact, it doesn’t feel like winter at all till you look outside and see the naked trees and darker skies, and you remember when you decided last year that you don’t like winter.

Before you can have a change of heart, you turn to him with sparkling eyes.

He smiles before you even say anything, reading your face as easily as the back of his hand. “You have good news? Or, like, a gift?” Chuckling in breaks, he runs his fingers through your hair.

“I just wanted to talk about our future.”

“Hm?” He seems a little surprised.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out for the both of us. I have faith in you. And in us.”

Ten’s smile falters but he doesn’t let it fall. “I’m glad you do.”

His ringtone startles the two of you just as you lean in, Ten muttering curses at the device. Pausing for a bit when he takes out his phone, he signals you that he needs a minute and leaves you alone in his room.

Nothing much has changed. There's his cluttered ash wood desk with sketchbooks of varying sizes and colours, shelves with small plushies and, you notice carefully, the butterfly pin you stole. Beside it is the panda soft toy you had found at the side of the road walking back from school and felt so bad, you had "adopted" it. You let out a chuckle.

“Ten?” you call, holding the little panda soft toy.

Ten paces outside his room, speaking in a hush. His features are tense, shoulders stiff and eyes focused when he talks to the caller. Noticing you, his eyes soften for a bit and he makes his way towards you.

“I’ll- I’ll talk to you later,” he speaks sharply into the phone.

“Who’s that?” you ask, walking up to him.

“Sicheng,” he replies briskly.

“Oh.” You remember the doll in your hand and pick it up to show him. “Remember how we got this?”

He smiles but something is amiss in his eyes. “Of course I remember.”

Whatever it is, it must not be important. After all, he’s your best friend and best friends tell each other everything. Morning will come and everything will be alright.

The night is cold and the moon is missing. The clothes you wear are not your own once again. This dream begins when the sun has just set and you can taste bitter defeat, but of what battle you don’t know yet.

All you know is that there is a war and you are caught in the crossfire. It hurts; you can’t feel your limbs anymore and another injury won’t matter anymore. Maybe this is the only life you won in.

No one dies in a way that matters. No one dies for anything at all. It just happens and that is a truth lying within the reach of the universe. Yet then again, when you find your last breath escaping you as you hold hands with the love of your life, you think there must be some meaning to it. You’re only twenty-four and you will be buried in a nameless grave for a war that was the fault of neither of you.

It dawns on you the moment you wake up, brushing away the tears on your cheeks. The universe is forgetting you, and the universe is being forgotten, until there is nothing left to be remembered.

All you can think then is that you will miss Ten in the next life, and in the next and the next.

act iii scene ii.

Ten has to tell you. He knows. He knows how the story ends.

But he’s afraid. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking facing forward till he’d turned around just to find you gone. New York was fun and he made new friends but it’s difficult to be anywhere without you. You’ve been attached at the hip for so long, it’s become strange to be apart.

Ten thinks about the call. The director was very particular about his role and chances come by as rare as diamonds. Ten breathes out heavy in annoyance, covering his eyes with his forearm. He loves sunny winter mornings and this is the worst one he’s ever experienced. He can hear his mom cooking downstairs, the sound soothing and he groans, running his fingers through his hair.

He should tell you. He knows he should tell you. But fear never walks in on stage with full gusto, it creeps in, slithers in till he feels a shadow behind him on stage and suddenly, he can’t see the lights anymore. Ten is afraid. He is afraid of losing his sense of self to the millions of people he’s played, and to your vibrant world of flowers and colours. You are always front stage centre. You are at the bottom of everything and he can’t let himself fall deep enough. He’s not enough.

Ten turns to face the collection of DVDs on his shelf, untouched since he'd left. What did he start performing for again? Was it the time you and him pretended to be pirates in his room, his bed your gallant ship, or the time he watched his first movie on a sweltering hot summer day, or the time he sang to you the first time (it was a birthday song remix, made by Ten himself). Surely, it was for something beautiful and not for something like greed. At that time, he thought that maybe if he stole enough lives and stuffed it into the gaping hole, it would sate his envy of the people around him. The bright vibrant colours, he made his own and yet still, he feels like a thief with his nimble feet and a stash of paint bottles in his arms. He's not satisfied at all.

It was a sunlit morning and Ten thought to himself, wouldn’t it be nice if he could paint with all the colours of the rainbow? You, who are so full of vibrance, couldn’t understand this epiphany of his.

"You keep getting on my nerves," he mutters in this empty room of his. "Everything you do gets on my nerves."

Ten decides that he’ll tell you this evening. After all, best friends tell each other everything. The theatre means the world to him but the whole world is out there, ready to be his stage. Eventually, this loneliness will turn into a performance and he’ll be grasping at identities trying to find familiarity. He will take his masks off over and over again, and he knows he’ll still be wearing one. He wants to greet you with his real face.

The world spins at the rate of a thousand miles an hour. It never stops, and that must mean everyone on it can’t stop either.

The crows are singing a song, or talking amongst themselves. You can never know. The song is dyed red as the evening, and with a splash of purple. It’s the season to miss flowers and warm hands and the sweet taste of ice cream. You don't know why but the "let's go to the gardens" text from Ten gave you the most awful feeling, much like the morning after your nightmares.

“I have to go back to New York.”

You look up at Ten from the park bench beside the dahlia fields. The flowers are asleep, not in bloom until next autumn.

“What?”

“I got a call… from someone I know.”

Your first reaction is to smile wide and jump up. “That’s great! You’re not jobless anymore.” You laugh.

But then the corner of your lips twitch and your smile drops. The word ‘goodbye’ hangs at the tip of your tongue and you look at him, slightly perplexed. Ten, who looks at you with so much kindness, will never understand this envy of yours.

“When… when do you come back?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. It depends on how well I do.”

You laugh despite the heavy feeling settling in your chest. “That- Let’s hope your acting is shitty then, hm?”

Ten frowns. “This isn't a joke. For once in your life, can you look at me with sincerity?”

You grit your teeth at his words.

“I’m trying to lighten the mood, god dammit,” you murmur bitterly.

“And I’m saying you don’t have to.”

There’s something looming over the top of your heads, something eerie like a clock that never stops ticking or a clock that never ticks.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, surrender in your voice already.

If you kiss him where you hurt him, will everything be alright? Can you grow the flowers he likes over his scars? Flowers… flowers—which were his favourite again? Irises or daisies? It must have been the prior; you’ve glanced over a hundred times at the endless fields of sleeping blue irises in his sketchbook. And yet, you doubt. Were those flowers chrysanthemums? You’re grasping onto memories and your knuckles are starting to hurt.

Ten looks at you with a gaze that is of the past. He looks at you like he’s mourning, like he’s keeping something grave from you. So you lean in, your lips brushing against his before you can kiss him fully. You want to feel him and for him to feel you, the idea of a relationship foreign and close to you as ever. Even so, you feel like a ghost as you run your fingertips over his skin and through his hair. He knows how to kiss you, how to hold you—and he’s known you for years.

Ten pulls apart for a few moments, breaths weaving into each other. It’s only five centimeters between your lips but it’s still five centimetres. You don’t know if you were meant to be apart or if you were not. The show must go on.

You brush the hair from his face, a lingering smile on your face from the kiss and the way his features align so perfectly. It’s easier to avoid his gaze that way.

“I’m tired,” he whispers. “I’m so tired. I feel like my skin is losing its grip on my bones. Everything’s falling apart.”

You hum, choking up at the sound of his voice. Soft and yet, so heavy.

He takes a sharp, shaky breath. “I don’t want to go.”

Forever is the sweetest lie you’ve told each other.

“You’re going to go,” you pronounce the words into realization. “You’re going to go away again. And I’m going to be right here.”

Your broken heart is making it much more difficult than it should be.

“Don’t go,” you whisper hoarsely. Maybe if this time you didn’t lie. Maybe you’ll be his number one, his lead finally.

His breathing gets erratic, and he takes a step back to cover his face with his flushed hands. It’s painful to watch him this way and you want to take your words back. But you knew. You knew what the words would result in, what the words would grow into. You feel cruel.

“I… I can’t give up,” he says finally, “I can’t- I can’t. I’m sorry, oh god. Why can’t you come with me? Why do I have to go back alone?”

You swallow, your eyes downcast.

“I’m not going to wait,” you say finally. “We should… we should stop now. It’s been long enough for us to go our own ways.”

Ten doesn’t move, at a loss for words.

“You… I'm sorry,” he says, choking on his own words.

Your lips tremble and you wipe at your eyes. He cups your face, thumbs swiping away the tears before you can muster enough strength to push him away. You’re a complete mess, in a way you haven’t been before. Even now, he’s the only one you can face.

“We’re not,” you say, regaining some control over your tongue, “We’re not supposed to be like this. Do you think we would even be friends if we didn’t grow up here together?”

“What- What does that matter?” He furrows his eyebrows, drawing nearer.

“I’m saying that everything could just be a coincidence and maybe… maybe things should just end sometimes.”

You just want to kiss him, in the way a romantic story ends in a sweet kiss and it’s a happy ending.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers. “But if you want distance, I’m giving you thousands of miles of it.”

You clench your jaw. “Don’t blame me for pushing you away.”

Ten throws up his arms in exasperation. “I’m not blaming—why are you so defensive all of a sudden?”

“You made me that way,” you answer, pitch low. Your throat hurts.

Ten looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, baby pink lips in a frown you hate. "I'm sorry. I have to leave."

You nod and let the words 'see you tomorrow' slip the same time 'goodbye' slips his. He turns his back and walks forwards as he always has, and you look in from the same place as you always have.

Eventually, you get the energy to go home. You greet your colourful room with the same look you always have before something catches your eye. The colour of your room mostly comes from the polaroids stuck to your wall—you and Ten at your high school graduation dancing to Nicki Minaj, Yukhei and you looking done holding the caricatures Ten painted of you, Sicheng and Ten and you after your first theatre performance together. There are so many smiles that you end laughing, a little crazy with the sound. Perhaps spring isn't as far as you think it is. Perhaps you will be okay.

Everything has an end. You know that. It hurts so fucking bad.

Ten was right. Because it hurts this bad, you know it meant something now. It meant the whole world to you. Winter tumbles upon you at full force even as you hold autumn dearly in your arms.

This time, you close your eyes to find yourself in a field of dahlias. The dream is meandering with colours and sounds so quiet that you feel like you’re stuck in time. Then a loud vibration resounds throughout the field; it is not a field at all.

You are sitting atop a bed of stars, in the belly of something much larger than you are. There is a place in the universe for everyone but you cannot find yourself in it.

So you sit at the places you’ve always known, at gardens and children’s parks, waiting till your hair turns grey and your skin starts to wrinkle. Time flows around you, faster with each second but you sit so still that you're not breathing anymore. You're so jealous of those who move, dance and play. Does it have to be this painful? You don't want to be all these people in your dreams. You want to paint your own mask.

The world is so busy and you are completely still. You think of sunshine in New York and how he must be loving it and for a moment, your plastered lips quirk upward.

When you wake up, Ten is on a flight to New York with a text that reads: "I'll come back. I promise." The sunset after a farewell—even you understand the beauty of it and so, you watch him chase his dreams into the sunset.

act iii scene iii.

You know an ending scene when you see one. It’s the only scene you didn’t end up sleeping through. But this doesn’t feel like one, no matter how deep the despair runs through you. This third act love was never supposed to work out and yet, something is amiss.

Ten doesn’t come back even when the billboards proudly show his face and he’s the star of the show. In your opinion, he always has been. But people get comfortable in the present, sink their feet into it, and when they do, they forget the past.

The world spins at a thousand miles per hour but nothing seems to move for you. Everything stops and life goes on.

epilogue.

Your youth starts to run out.

Sorrow grows into anger, then into resentment. You’re not sure what you hate so desperately but you hate it nonetheless. You’re pissed and you don’t know what to do with yourself except wake up shaking and wanting to shout and cry at the world. You were supposed to have Ten by your side even then. Even when you’re against the world, he was supposed to be there. Now you’re all alone in a world that’s crashing and burning, in a world of your own making and in a world that is no longer in the palm of your hand.

You wish you were an angrier person, you wish you could curse and scream and fight as easily as they do in movies. At least he didn't make a villain out of you when he left first.

You don’t really have nightmares anymore though. When you have nothing to lose, you start to fear less. You tend to a little garden of your own making after Mr. Yang passes away. There’s a quiet funeral and a will written with your name on it. You did spend most of your time there after Ten left. It’s your flower shop now and you can tend to whichever flowers you want to keep alive.

Sometime in your late twenties, you get a call from an old friend. You meet Doyoung at a coffee shop near the college he went to, and he tells you he got your number from Yukhei that night you met. He says he’s glad your number hasn’t changed in all these years—he found it going through his contacts. You find it cute the way he becomes flustered when trying to explain himself. He’s a lawyer now, finished all those tough years to complete his dreams.

It makes you smile. You think that dreams shouldn’t be kept in a bottle but your shelves are full.

You go on dates at the cutest new cafes and the most ambient restaurants, sometimes to amusement parks so you can laugh at his fear of scary rides. It feels like having a friend once again and you cheer up for the better.

But Doyoung doesn’t understand history the way you do. He doesn’t understand a lot of things—but it’s not something you expect anyway. He’s rich and he doesn’t know what small towns are like. You think you can be in love again. He proposes to you on a yacht and you nod, paralyzed from your fear of the ocean. Your parents are so happy for you that for a brief time, you feel happy too in the shadow of their joy.

You don’t visit your hometown anymore after the wedding. You don’t visit theatres at all.

Sometimes you remember the night at the rooftop after the party with Ten and smile. But it was one night, one thing you did in a lifetime of nights and things you did. It dawns on you just then that loneliness makes you fragile, fragile enough to push people away instead.

Every time you close your eyes, you’re still dancing with him on the rooftop below the stars that are yet to fade from your memory. You now pick wilting flowers at a wilted garden.

“A play?” you ask, confounded. Doyoung has never been one for theatre.

"Your mom said you liked theatre," Doyoung answers, eyes inquisitive.

"Did she now?"

He smiles. "If you've grown out of it—"

"No. No, I've always wanted to watch a show on Broadway."

"That's settled then."

You start to understand the meaning of this place to Ten. You haven't called him in years and you didn't keep in touch after the first year. Life was as busy for him as it was still for you and you understand some of it now. After all, who would ever want to leave this place?

Being a part of the audience runs a chill up your back, with certain memories drawing to the surface of your thoughts as you sink into the seat. It's a popular musical but you can't say you've ever heard of it. Time runs differently in your little bubble.

It hurts just about as much as you expect it to. Watching Ten on stage hurts so bad you almost look away. The nostalgia scratches at your throat, filling your head with memories you shouldn't be entertaining anymore. You should've kept in touch. You should've done something. You were friends before everything else.

All you want from him now is forgiveness. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with—

You start to cry before you can do anything about it. Doyoung doesn’t notice beside you, dozed off already to the soft orchestral music.

You must seem delirious, mourning as though you’ve buried a loved one. With a shaky breath, you force yourself to look. It is the tombstone of your childhood love that stands on stage. You were rash. You were so, so young and rash. Your lips tremble again and you cry, chest rising and falling as you remember something so forgotten that it seems a dream, something so warm that’s now six feet under in the cold ground. You mourn.

But he seems happy—and that's all you ever really cared about. That's all you should have cared about.

The play ends on a wonderful musical note and you find yourself in better composure. Shaking Doyoung awake by the shoulder, you look at him expectantly. He seems partly embarrassed to have dozed off and partly apologetic.

"You want to meet Ten?" Doyoung asks quietly.

You blink in surprise.

"You grew up in the same town, right?"

"Yeah… Yeah, we did."

Doyoung smiles. "We went to college at the same place."

"Oh, I know. Most everyone from my town goes to college there actually."

Doyoung hums.

"He invited me, actually," he says after a while.

"Oh."

It hurts only a little that he didn't invite you first. Did all those years mean nothing beyond a little romance? If you were years younger, you could be chiding him for it. If he were years younger, he would greet you with a Cheshire cat smile.

Backstage smells of sweat. A little perfume and powder but mostly sweat. You know that already. It's just that even the backstage here is grand.

Ten looks as pretty as ever, even with half the makeup off his face. He looks as pretty as billboard posters, where he was meant to be, and in smiling Instagram posts and articles about how perfect his smile is. He's pretty but in a different sort of way.

Ten doesn't seem surprised. In fact, he greets the two of you with a poster smile.

"Doyoung," he says first. "(Name). I hope, no wait. You guys better have liked that."

Doyoung laughs. "You'll bully me into liking it even if I didn't."

Ten rolls his eyes. "Law makes you so boring. Or maybe you were always boring."

Doyoung sighs, shaking his head. "Not everyone wants to be the life of the party. There's quite a bunch of wild stories about you on the internet."

Ten snorts. "I don't know why but you saying 'the internet' makes you sound thirty years older."

"There's no arguing with you, is there?"

"Learnt from the best."

You clear your throat. "If the two of you are done with your homoerotic banter…"

Doyoung chokes the same time Ten makes a gagging sound. What the two of them have in common is that they easily become flustered around you.

"I'm going to go wash my face." Doyoung excuses himself, exiting the backstage.

In any other time or place, it would be fine being just the two of you.

"Ten," you acknowledge. "You look good."

"I always do."

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to mask everything with humour."

"Like you did?"

You fall silent.

“Does it hurt?” you ask.

“It does,” he whispers before raising his voice something more audible. “When I look at your—our old pictures, it does.”

"You've kept them?"

"Of course."

You look at your feet. The reality settles. You’re not going back to the way things were. You’re married to another man. Ten’s not in love with you anymore. If you had taken the step forward back then, if you had kissed him before he took that step back—would things have turned out differently?

The stars will now gaze at lonely rooftops and empty flower gardens—an audience you never wished to entertain. But now, you're glad to have been part of his play, part of the play you made together.

“Are you happy these days?” he asks. There is no malice, no resentment in his voice.

“Almost,” you answer. “There’s just one thing missing.”

To ask for forgiveness does not mean erasure. You can't move on by letting it go and pretending it was never in the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t me,” you say quietly, rubbing your forearm.

Ten smiles. “We were a little confused, I think. We wanted to be loved, appreciated and found the easiest way.”

You smile back. “Yeah. It was always easiest with you.”

Ten pauses, looking around with a familiar feline look in his eyes before whispering, “So, Doyoung? Really?”

You straighten, crossing your arms. “He’s really nice. And he’s always asking me how I am, what I ate, and he buys me all the soft toys I want. And he’s a better kisser, by the way.”

Ten places a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “Now, we both know that’s not true.”

You roll your eyes before a short giggle turns into chuckling into laughter, and the two of you find yourself with smiling eyes, the look of childhood on your faces and memories unkempt.

It is better to grieve than to never have loved anyone enough to.

It doesn’t hurt anymore but maybe it stopped hurting a long time ago. But it meant something to you, meant so much to you and that's all that makes sense now.

notes.

the words to the play at the beginning of act i scene i is taken from tang xianzu’s preface to his own play, the peony pavilion, however they are not exact quotations. the graveyard scene and the “when everything is gone, i want it to hurt” dialogue are inspired by indie game night in the woods by infinite fall studio and i love that game pls check it out if you have the time and money!!

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