'tis the damn season
Genre: exes baggage; pseudo-relationship
Pairing: SEVENTEEN Kim Mingyu x Reader
Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content
Notes: 23k words - I got carried away, song prompt was 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift.
Synopsis: Taking your boyfriend—with whom you recently broke up with—to your family home for the holidays and pretend you're still happily in love? Doesn't sound like the best idea but what could go wrong?
The weather forecast sure wasn't lying when it said this winter would be the coldest in the last decade. As soon as you step outside, the chill has cut through your layers of clothing. It's a cold that feels even more piercing than the void in your soul right now.
The last few days, you've been trying to convince yourself that the chill you're feeling is just the season, nothing more. You were just being in denial, of course. As you walk to meet your sister in a cafe near your apartment, you can't help but think back to warmer times. Days when the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, when laughter was easy, and the world felt kinder to you and your heart. It's clear now that the warmth you miss isn't just from the absence of the sun. It's the absence of something, someone, who made everything feel less cold, less harsh.
“Blair!” you called out when you spotted your sister outside the cafe, her bundles of clothing unable to hide the massive baby bump. She looked warm and pretty, waving happily at you when she saw you.
“Hi!” she greeted pitchily when you approached her.
“Did you wait too long? Where’s your husband?”
“Oh, he went to get the gifts wrapped up,” she said, ushering you into the building.
“Their hot chocolate here is really good. You should try it.”
“Really? Good because I’m craving some chocolate right now.”
You found a table, ordered food, and started talking about the Christmas party in your family home this year. She laid down the plans and the segments which are the same as every year but you just had to talk about it. The discussion was going well until your sister reminded you of something important that totally slipped your mind.
“Mingyu's coming too right?”
“I’m sorry, what?” you asked stupidly, blinking rapidly at her.
“Mingyu. Duh,” she scoffed, chuckling.
Of course, Mingyu. “I'm not sure he can make it this year.”
Your sister's face contorted into a frown upon hearing that. She asked, “Why? What's wrong? Did you two break up?”
Yes, you did. But hearing the worry in her voice made you swallow the words. "He probably has other plans. I don't know, he might go home for the holidays this year."
She visibly relaxed, patting her chest and sighing. “Good lord, I thought you two broke up. That’s okay. He should spend time with his family if he can. I just asked because he’s been spending Christmas with us ever since you got together.”
Right, he has. Ever since you started dating, Mingyu has spent every Christmas with your family. The first time he did, it was because you found out his family lived abroad so you invited him over. He quickly got close with your family and soon became a regular presence during holidays and important family functions. Including last year, Mingyu has spent three Christmases in your family home. This year would have been his fourth if you didn't break up.
It hasn't been that long; only three weeks have passed since. You kept count because a four-year relationship is obviously not something you forget overnight. Not to mention the regrets you have about the breakup that would often leave you to wonder if it was the right thing to do.
"The kids will miss him, for sure," your sister commented to which you only replied with a hum of agreement. She didn't bring him up again and continued relaying the holiday plans to you. When it was all over and she'd had her third cup of hot chocolate, you walked out of the cafe with your sister promising to drive you back to your apartment.
The universe probably has it out for you though, because as soon as you step out of the cafe, the first person you bumped into was Mingyu.
"Mingyu!" your sister exclaimed, gasping behind the scarf that was covering half her face. "Good to see you. How are you?"
Mingyu looked surprised but he was quick to give your sister a hug. "I've been well. How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Still alive and very pregnant."
"So, I see," Mingyu smiled sweetly, eyeing your sister's growing bump. "He should be coming out this month, right?"
"He is," your sister chimed. "Hopefully before or after the Christmas weekend, but, I'll leave it up to him to decide."
A smile crept up on your lips, touched by the fact that he remembered that bit. As the two of them had a quick catching up, you stood there awkwardly, looking around and refusing to meet Mingyu's gaze.
"Will you be joining us for Christmas this year?" your sister asked, making you glance at Mingyu at once. He was looking at you too, confusion written over his face. "She said you're going home to your family. That's good, but if you change your mind about it, you're welcome to the chateau, okay?"
"Uh," Mingyu chuckled awkwardly, tilting his head. "Yeah, I will. I mean... I might. I'll let you know."
"Good," your sister beamed just as her husband was pulling over at the side of the road. She turned to you. "Since Mingyu's here, I guess I won't have to drive you back anymore?" she said, nodding at you.
You grabbed her hands and gave her a pleading look. "But you promised!"
"I did, but your boyfriend's here now so I don't have to," she scoffed. To Mingyu, she said, "See you around, Gyu."
"Yes. See you around. Take care," Mingyu replied, waving at your sister as she got into the car.
The two of you stood there in silence, watching them drive away and disappear into the sea of cars on the road. You sighed when you couldn't see their car anymore, turning on your heel to walk away. Mingyu's voice called for you, making you stop to look at him.
He seemed hesitant at first, but he still spoke. "You haven't told them yet?"
"No," you replied, shaking your head. "I was going to, the timing was just off when the topic came up a while ago. Don't worry though, I'll sort this out."
"It's fine. No big deal," he said, nodding.
You evened your breathing, nodding at him. "Okay," you replied before turning to walk away.
The air was cold against your cheeks and your mouth was bitter from the cold exchange you just had with Mingyu. It was brief and hurried like neither of you wanted it. It was fleeting, almost as if it never happened at all. Now here you are, freezing and broken, wanting so bad to whine about the encounter but you can’t because that would be pathetic and completely out of line. In fact, you’re the last person who should complain about Mingyu being cold and distant. It was you who decided to break up with him in the first place.
“Y/N, wait!” came Mingyu’s voice, huffing as he ran after you down the sidewalk. You halted, your heart suddenly beating wildly, replacing your frustration with anxiousness. He stopped just a few feet from you. “Let me drive you home.”
What home? “I’m fine. It’s not that far.”
“Please, I insist,” he replied, reaching for you but not touching you. “You look cold.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, along with the voice in your head telling you not to get into his car. "If you don't mind, then... okay."
With a heavy step and your mind screaming about how stupid you are, you towed behind Mingyu all the way to where his car was parked by the sidewalk.
The ride was quiet; not that you were expecting any conversation. What would you talk about anyway? It shouldn’t feel weird since you haven’t spoken to him in weeks. But then again, it did feel weird to be together and not utter a word to each other. You used to have a lot to talk about; random topics, important stuff, petty fighting, and whatever it was that crossed your minds. Now you haven’t heard from him for three weeks until today. Funny how someone can be a huge part of your life today and become a stranger the next day. The chill on your hands and cheeks was gone but the cold in your heart was enough to make your soul shiver.
Mingyu took a deep breath as he pulled over at the side of the road right in front of your apartment complex. The car came to a stop but you sat there frozen in place, unable to open the door on your side or say anything to thank him for the ride. Mingyu can probably feel your discomfort and it felt awkward knowing that.
“For what it’s worth,” he began, breaking the ice. “I haven’t told anyone either.”
You cautiously glanced his way, smiling timidly when you saw that he was looking at you. His expression was difficult to discern. There was a smile on his lips but it didn’t reach his eyes.
You looked away and chuckled awkwardly. “I guess it’s not something that just randomly comes up in conversations, is it?”
“You’re right, it isn’t,” he agreed, nodding.
You were both quiet after that, unsure of what to say next. You’re thinking about getting off but it doesn’t feel right to leave just yet. It was as if something in the atmosphere was telling you the conversation was not over yet. Was it the atmosphere or was it your delusional brain fooling you into thinking there's something there when the truth is there isn't?
“You know, if you want…” he started again. You can tell he was hesitating because he wouldn’t even look at you. “I can go to the chateau with you.”
“The chateau?” you repeated, genuinely surprised. “With me? You mean for Christmas?”
“Yeah."
“Are you serious?” you asked incredulously, genuinely amazed at the sudden turn of events.
“Is that a ‘no’?” he probed. He seemed serious about his offer but you weren’t sure how to react to it. “I was thinking we could just go there for old times’ sake. I don’t have anything planned for Christmas anyway, and I would love to see them again one last time.”
One last time? This really is the end for you, isn’t it? “Wouldn’t it be weird?”
Mingyu chuckled sheepishly, scratching his nape. “Yeah, I guess it would. Sorry. Was it too much? Did I overstep?”
You shook your head in response but in your mind, you do agree that it was out of bounds. What kind of ex was he to ask if he could spend Christmas with your family after you two have broken up? And what kind of woman would you be if you said it was alright and he could come? Sure, he’s close to your family and has built a good relationship with them. Even so, it’s still awkward to have him come over for the holidays knowing the relationship you two had-- which was the reason he met your family in the first place, has come to an end.
“We broke up, Gyu. I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you replied and you meant it. Everyone in your family adored Mingyu, especially your parents. Now that you think about it, if they find out that you’ve broken up, it would break their hearts too. “I haven’t told them yet and it would upset them. Especially mom.”
Mingyu appeared to think for a moment, then his face contorted with hesitation. It baffled you how much you knew him; his cues, his expressions, and even his mannerisms. You knew exactly what they signified and how to respond to them. Right now, you know he has an idea that you may or may not like.
“What if…” he began, glancing at you tentatively. “What if we don’t tell them yet?”
“What?”
“What if we don’t tell them that we broke up? Telling them now would probably ruin the festive mood. Let’s just let the holidays pass. We could do that and spend Christmas together this year.”
Together... you pondered but you steeled your resolve. It was tempting, and you could shout to the world how much you miss him right now, but you wouldn't take your chances on something so risky.
“You’re not serious,” you deadpanned, imagining a whole lot of scenarios where his plan backfires terribly. It would be easier to just get back together than to pretend you’re still together in front of your whole family. “It’s stupid and they’ll see right through it.”
“So, you’re up for it as long as they don’t figure it out?” he grinned mischievously. God, you hate it when he makes that face. He does that when he knows he’s up to no good and he’s trying to rope you into it. But dear God, don’t you love it too; the fun that follows after he finally convinces you, the euphoria of being involved in some misconduct, and the thrill of doing something you never thought you would ever do.
“No.” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him. “I get that you loved hanging out with them, but it’s risky and unnecessary. Besides, you don’t really have to be there. I already told my sister you’ll be spending Christmas with your family.”
“Alright, I'm sorry. Let’s not do it,” he gave up, raising his hands. “It was worth a shot though.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a no.” You forced a smile as you reached for the door and got ready to leave. “Thanks for the ride.”
“You’re welcome. Stay warm,” he replied with a small wave. You smiled again just as you were closing the door. Then you watched him drive away, sighing as soon as he was far enough.
"Stay warm? What is he a weatherman?" you muttered, shaking your head.
You were right; the universe has it out for you. After that one unexpected encounter with Mingyu, you started seeing him everywhere—in the grocery store, at your favorite café, even just walking down the street. For such a big city, it seemed absurd how often you bumped into him lately, especially since you hadn't seen him once since the breakup. At first, you exchanged quick, polite greetings, but soon these random meetings became so frequent that even looking at each other felt awkward. That’s the tricky part about an amicable breakup: there’s no real reason to ignore each other. It would have been easier if he had been a jerk, or if you had done something unforgivable, but there was not enough reason to act like strangers.
“Hello, stranger. Good morning,” Mingyu greeted you as he saw you at the café counter. The sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes at his goofy grin.
“Good morning to you too,” you replied, nodding in acknowledgment. Mingyu didn’t say anything else and quietly waited his turn.
He stood behind you in the queue, out of sight, but you could easily imagine him with his hands shoved into his coat pockets. Or maybe he was scrolling through his phone. Perhaps he was staring at the menu. Whatever he was doing, you hoped he wasn’t looking at you—observing the back of your neck, checking you out, or anything like that.
“Thank you,” you told the barista as she handed you the buzzer after you paid for your coffee. When you turned on your heel, you caught a glance of Mingyu who smiled at you when your eyes met. As you walked away, you heard him tell the barista his order.
Your feet hurriedly carried you to a four-seater table. Originally, you weren’t planning to linger in the café and ordered a takeout, but curiosity got the best of you after hearing Mingyu order for two people. Who was he having coffee with this early? Your eyes scanned the occupied tables, searching for any hint of Mingyu’s company. Anxiety began to build up in your chest as you considered the possibility that he might be here with another girl.
It could be anyone, you reassured yourself. Mingyu, being the social butterfly that he is, has friends everywhere. Throughout your relationship, you had lost count of the times you met Mingyu’s acquaintances. Most of these meetings happened in the streets or the hallways of the university, where he would bump into someone he knew and have quick small talks—not forgetting to introduce you as his girlfriend to those you were meeting for the first time. But still, in your opinion, it was a little too early to be meeting a friend for coffee.
As expected, Mingyu had a quick chat with the barista before leaving the counter. Hoping he wouldn’t notice you watching him, you feigned interest in your phone as he strolled across the room. The table he sat at wasl vacant, leading you to presume that the person he’s meeting hasn’t arrived yet. But barely a minute later, the chime of the door opening echoed through the café. The way Mingyu’s face lit up with a smile at the sight of the newcomer made you scowl. Glancing over your shoulder toward the entrance, you saw a woman walking in.
You held your breath, observing the tall, alluring figure approach your ex-boyfriend. Mingyu greeted her with a hug that lingered longer than you would have preferred. Recognizing the jealousy bubbling up inside you, you scoffed incredulously, shaking your head and tearing your gaze away from them. So what if he’s meeting a woman? What does it matter to you? So what if there’s a chance they’re involved romantically? It’s none of your business! He’s free to do whatever he wants!
“Isn’t it a little too soon to start seeing someone new, though?“ you muttered, a scowl knitting your brows together.
The buzzer startled you, prompting a sharp exhale as you rose to fetch your order. But when the barista called out your name in a voice louder than necessary, a flush of embarrassment tinged your cheeks. Mingyu must have heard that you were still around.
But really, why feel embarrassed? This is a public space, and you have every right to be here. Now that you think about it, you may be way in over your head to think your presence there is affecting him at all. You chided yourself internally for overthinking.
“Thanks,“ you said to the barista, sliding the buzzer back across the counter. “But seriously, what's the point of the buzzer if you're going to call out names anyway?“
The barista grinned sheepishly. “Honestly, I've wondered the same thing myself.“
If you want to know who Mingyu was hanging out with or if he's already moved on, you could simply ask. Not Mingyu, of course. Maybe inquire with mutual friends or someone close to him. Granted, easier said than done, but definitely less humiliating than the slightly awkward and borderline stalker-ish behavior you're exhibiting now.
Your phone started ringing as soon as you stepped out of the cafe. It was your father calling so you punched the answer button and pressed the device on your ear. “Hi Dad, what’s up?”
“Hi, sweetheart. Is Mingyu there?” was the first thing he said.
You glanced back inside the cafe where you could see Mingyu happily chatting with his ‘date’. “No. Why?”
“Mommy wants to know if he’s coming this weekend. Your sister was here a while ago and told us she met Mingyu last week. Your mom’s making final arrangements for the weekend so she wants the RSVP. You know how it goes.”
“Yeah, I know,” you exhaled, your eyes twitching at the sight of the girl’s hand around Mingyu’s arm. They have left their table and are now making their way out of the cafe with all smiles.
“Right, you do. Let us know once he made up his mind, alright? Or call your mom, whatever works for you.” your dad said.
You turned in the direction of your apartment before Mingyu could see you loitering outside the cafe. “I should just call her. I gotta tell her as soon as possible anyway,” you replied as you trekked back to your apartment.
“Good. It shouldn’t be so hard to ask him. I mean,” your father chuckled. “He’s been a regular presence in our home for three Christmases. At this point, he’s basically family.”
If they only knew the truth, they would never even mention his name around you. “Right. I gotta go, Dad. I’ll call mom later.”
“Alright, Bean. Love you.”
“Love you too, Dad,” you replied, briskly hanging up and tucking your phone back into your purse. You have made up your mind, so you turned on your heel and walked back to the cafe. Mingyu was standing by the sidewalk, waving a hand at the girl who he had just sent away in a taxi. The voices in your head were screeching and cursing at you for an impulsive decision that you were actively trying to execute. But there was no turning back.
“Kim Mingyu,” you blurted as soon as you reached your ex. Mingyu, who was just about to press his phone to his ear, turned to you in surprise. “Christmas at the chateau. Is it still on the table?”
Confusion flickered on his face. “Mom, let me call you back. I need a sec. Yeah, it’s her… I will. Bye, mom. Talk later.”
You took a deep breath, watching him put his phone away and walk closer to you. He then said, “It depends on you, y/n. Just say the word.”
You exhaled sharply, blowing steam from the warmth of your mouth. “Come with me, then. Spend Christmas with me–us. The family… My uh, family wants you there.”
Mingyu shrugged, lips lifting into a boyish smile. “What about you? Do you want me there?”
“Absolutely!” you replied so quickly, it was embarrassing. “Everyone would be delighted to see you so… That makes me want you to be there.”
There’s no way he didn’t notice how defensive you were. Mingyu’s grin didn’t falter, nodding cheekily as he said, “Okay then. If you insist.”
You couldn’t help the smile that tore through your lips, both annoyed and shy because you knew he was teasing you on purpose. “Stop that.”
“What?” he grinned. “You want me there. I guess I’ll be there then.”
“Shut up,” you gloated, shaking your head despite being unable to erase your smile. You started walking back to your apartment while Mingyu followed behind you. “Go away!”
He chuckled heartily, reaching for your elbow. “Come, y/n. I’ll take you home.”
“Fine,” you grumbled, letting him drag you back. Your heart has stopped raging and you are feeling much calmer now. “I have rules.”
“Okay.”
“And I have a condition.”
“Sure, sure. Let’s hear it in the car.”
“What could go wrong?” you questioned, looking at your friend Daphne through the reflection in the mirror.
Daphne stared back at you with a dumbfounded expression, as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. “Those four words are harmless on their own. But if you put them together, you get the most dangerous sentence in the history of humanity.”
You scoffed, shaking your head as you turned to face her. “You’re so dramatic.”
“And you’re an idiot.”
“Thank you very much,” you quipped, then stood with your back facing her. “Now, would you please help me out of this dress? I don’t like it.”
“Me neither,” Daphne agreed before unzipping the dress at once.
“How about that one?” You pointed at a nice maroon cashmere dress.
Daphne looked over it and nodded. “It’s cute. Try it on.”
You hurried back into the fitting room with the dress. It’s the morning before you leave for the chateau and you invited Daphne for a last-minute shopping. You wanted a dress for the Christmas dinner and you initially thought you’d find a decent one in your closet but there wasn’t any. That was not to say you didn’t have any nice dress–in fact, you had plenty. You just didn’t want to wear them for the occasion. It was as if everything in your closet was suddenly tacky, plain, or unattractive. You wanted new ones.
“You look amazing,” Daphne said as soon as you stepped out, although she had a deadpan expression.
“Thank you. I like it too.”
“Be honest. Are you shopping because you wanted to look cute for Mingyu?”
You laughed awkwardly. “No, I’m not.”
Daphne narrowed her eyes at you. “I can see right through you.”
You knew that but you were still adamant about denying it. “I don’t dress to impress, Daph. Especially not for a man.”
“You don’t, but this is Mingyu we're talking about so…” she retorted, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say. This dress is not for him,” you insisted, examining yourself in the mirror.
“It’s okay, girl. You can be honest with me.”
“I can?” you lilted, taking the bait Daphne threw to catch you.
“See, I knew it!” she snickered, rolling her eyes. “You want to impress your ex.”
You just pouted, not responding to her at all and just looking through your dress selections for more options. So what if you want to impress Mingyu? You’re not trying to get back with him. You just didn’t want him to think you were any less pretty after the breakup.
“y/n, I told you. Bringing him to the chateau is a bad idea.”
“It’s just one weekend,” you murmured, embarrassed but determined not to back out.
Daphne stood from the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “One weekend where your heart and dignity is on the line. I don’t think it’s worth it.”
Daphne was right and you know it. But you had made up your mind–you are going to the chateau with Mingyu. You’ve made the preparations and told your parents he was coming. You’ve talked to Mingyu and put up clear boundaries. Plus you are driving up there in four hours. You can’t just back out at the last minute!
You can, you just didn’t have the intention to do so. Although it shamed you to admit it, a part of you wanted this. For old-time’s sake.
“I know you mean well but,” you paused, faced your friend, and sighed, “I’m sorry, Daph.”
Daphne sighed, shaking her head sternly as he approached you to tenderly squeeze your shoulders. “I guess I can’t change your mind, then?”
You responded by shaking your head, and Daphne pulled you into a hug.
“Just don’t go breaking your heart. It hasn’t even healed yet.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Your friend grumbled as she pulled away. Pouting, she pointed at the dress with a deep olive green shade. “Get this one too. Green looks majestic on you. And hurry. This place is getting too crowded.”
Grinning, you heeded her suggestion and grabbed said dress before disappearing into the fitting room once again. After shopping, you sat down for brunch with your friend and spent the morning chatting away. By the time you arrived back at your apartment, it was half past noon and you only had a couple minutes left before Mingyu would come to pick you up. You stuffed your new clothes in your luggage, inspected your boxes of presents for your family, and did your routine inspection of your flat to make sure everything was clean and tidy before you left.
Your doorbell rang right on time, signaling the arrival of Kim Mingyu. Part of you wanted to roll your eyes and say he can just come in like he used to. It’s not like you changed your passcode or anything. But then again, Mingyu is a gentleman. Even if he could, he wouldn’t just waltz in like he owns the place.
“Hi,” he beamed as soon as you pushed your door open. “You ready to go?”
“Yes, I just need help with these,” you replied, motioning to the huge bag of presents in your hands. Mingyu was quick to take it out of your hands, and then hold the door open for you while you went back in to take your luggage out. He even took that one out of your hand too.
“Is this all your stuff?” he asked as you closed your apartment door.
You nodded in response and so you both boarded the elevator. At the parking lot, his car was right outside the exit, waiting for the two of you. As soon as everything was loaded, he opened the car door for you with no hesitation. Dumbfounded, you quietly slipped through the door and sat on the shotgun. Mingyu then rounded the car to get inside the driver’s seat.
“Ready?” he asked, beaming. You looked away from him, pretending to be busy with the seatbelt as you responded to his question with a quiet nod.
The first few minutes of the car ride were spent with Mingyu talking to his mother on the phone. It was a pure and adorable conversation about the weather, meals, and their plans for the weekend. Mingyu’s mom was a kind woman who spoke in a stern but gentle manner. You don’t have that many memories with her mom, except for the time two years ago when Mingyu took you on a trip to his hometown. At the time, and in the few occasions that you did talk to her, she has shown nothing but adoration for you.
“Mmhmm, don’t worry. I will take good care of myself, Mom,” he said affectionately after his mom reminded him to keep himself warm and never get sick.
“But wait, if you’re on your way to their house, does that mean y/n is with you?” she asked from the other line. Your eyes widened at his phone that was hanging on the dashboard holder. Then you glanced at Mingyu who just scrunched his nose cutely at you.
“Yes, she’s here. Say, ‘hi’.”
His mother started laughing heartily before saying, “Hi, dear. How are you?”
“Hello, Moth…er…” your speech trailed off, awkwardly glancing at Mingyu.
He just chuckled and gave you an encouraging nod before mouthing, “It’s okay.”
“Um… I’ve been well–” you stammered, clearing your throat before finishing, “–mother.”
“You’ve been well? Great. That’s great,” she chimed, her voice sweet and endearing. “I haven’t heard from you for a while. I thought you finally got sick of my son and left him for good.”
A hiccup escaped your throat, caught off-guard by her sudden comment. Mingyu on the other hand, started whining and said, “Mom! Why would you even say that?”
“Why not? She has every reason to dump you,” she replied. Mingyu grabbed the phone from the holder and tapped the loudspeaker button so he could talk to his mother in private.
“I’ll call you later. Stop worrying about me and take care of yourself, alright? Good. Let’s talk soon. Okay. Bye, love you!” He then tossed the device into a compartment and mumbled under his breath. You might not speak his language, but you knew he just cursed in his mother tongue.
“Sorry about her,” he said awkwardly. “You see, I haven’t told them either.”
“Hmm, I see.”
“She asks about you all the time, you know,” he added, eyes fixed on the road. “Even after we broke up.”
“What do you tell her?” you probed, genuinely curious. If she did ask about you all the time, how come he couldn’t tell her about the breakup?
“Nothing much. Just that you’re fine and doing stuff,” he said, to which you hummed in response and then turned your gaze to the road.
“Are you?” he questioned, making you look at him. He glanced at you briefly. “Are you fine and doing stuff?”
“Who, me?” you chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I’m fine and doing stuff.”
“Really? What have you been up to these days?”
“Oh, you know. Small gigs for family or friends. Nothing official or permanent yet. I’m still on a break.”
You and Mingyu met in college as sophomores. He took up accounting, while you were an art student majoring in interior design. After college, he applied for jobs in major firms and got accepted immediately. Then for the next six months, he worked as an assistant for an executive–which served as his training before he signed a full contract. You, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry about getting a job and securing a good salary. So you took your time, not making big decisions and enjoying your free time.
“So you’re freelancing?” Mingyu asked.
“I wouldn’t consider it freelancing since I’m not really available for hire any time. I just picked up some small projects for Allan’s house. The other is for Daphne’s department store. And I decorated for Sue as well. Remember her?”
“Yeah, I remember Sue. She was your new neighbor before I…” he stopped to clear his throat and finished, “Before I moved out.”
The sudden change of subject made your stomach turn. Looking back, you and Mingyu started living together in your fourth year of college. As spacious as it was, before he moved in, you had never eaten or cooked there. It was tidy, not because you purposely kept it clean, but because barely anyone stayed there who would make any mess– not even you who spent most of your time outside and only came home to sleep and bathe. Mingyu made it homely and warm.
At one point in your relationship, you told him you could never live there without him anymore. You could not imagine waking up without him on the bed, eating there without the food he made himself, or sitting in the living room without him to snuggle with. You told him that once and although he laughed about it, he also promised he would never leave you there alone.
Long story short, he lied. Sure, you were the one who broke things off, but he was the one who left. That was the part that hurt most— the fact that he just agreed to break up without putting up a fight. You can only hope the best for him, you knew he was hoping the same for you anyway.
Attempting to dissolve the awkwardness, you decided to ask him about his job. “How was your job at the firm?”
“Oh, it’s great. I got regularized about two weeks ago,” he replied, looking pleased.
You knew that, one of your friends told you about it when it happened. “That’s amazing. I knew you would get the job.”
“Thanks. That’s immensely reassuring.”
You agree that it was such a reassuring thing to say, and you also regret not saying it when you were still together— when he needed to hear it the most.
“Good to know. You’ve always been easy to reassure,” you said as a passing comment. “I wish Blair was like that. I mean, honestly, how can she ask me to reassure her all the damn time but still remain pessimistic about everything?”
Mingyu chuckled heartily. “I guess the pregnancy is making her anxious, huh?”
You shook your head. “Not the pregnancy itself. It’s giving birth that she’s so scared of. Now that her due is near, everyone has been trying to give her pep talks.”
“It must be nerve-wracking.”
“I can’t say I know how it feels,” you chuckled derisively. “You wanna know what she’s naming the baby?”
“She picked one already?” he asked, glancing at you with an amazed smile.
“It’s Alfred.”
“Alfred?” Mingyu frowned, dismayed. The face he made was funny to you because you had the same negative reaction when you first heard it.
“Yes. Alfred,” you snickered. "Tacky, isn't it?"
“No. I think it’s um…” He tilted his head a little. “It’s okay. Cool name. Alfred. Has a nice classy ring to it.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing he was just trying to patronize your sister. “She’s hell-bent on following our parents’ legacy by naming her children chronologically. We barely talked her out of naming the child Allan after my older brother.”
Mingyu hummed. “So if she had it her way, there would have been a ‘y/n Jr.’ in a couple of years.”
You giggled, leaning your head on the backrest as you started feeling drowsy. “I know, right? That would have been nice, and kinda weird too if you think about it.”
“So I almost became a godfather to an Allan Jr.?” he asked, bewildered. “Now that you mentioned it, it does sound a little strange for an Allan Jr. to exist as someone else’s child, not Allan’s himself.”
“Do you still want to be Alfred’s godfather?” you asked, remembering that Blair had requested Mingyu to be her son’s godfather when she first found out that she was pregnant. “I mean, would you still be up for it after we tell everyone that we’ve broken up?”
You saw Mingyu shrug. “As long as you’re okay with it.”
That was such a play-safe answer, and also a ridiculous one especially since it was between him and Blair as friends; you had nothing to do with it. But you also recognized why it would depend on your opinion. To begin with, it was because of you that he made friends with your family. He would want you to be comfortable with it more than anything. And of course, regardless of how great their relationship was, you knew your family would take your side no matter what. Each time you remember this fact, you are reminded of the disappointment and pain that your breakup would bring upon your loved ones.
Something about the yuletide season tugs at your heartstrings each year. Everywhere you go, twinkling lights adorned the homes, business establishments, and the streets. Christmas brings a festive mood to the atmosphere and a unique blend of warmth, nostalgia, and anticipation that fills you with warmth despite the cold season. Your hometown is no different; each Christmas, it transforms into a wonderland of lights and decorations from house to house. In your own home, there is a warm sense of togetherness as your family gathers to share laughter, stories, and meals.
You loved this mood, but this year is a little different. The festivity is still there, but the warmth of the familiar embrace has disappeared. The once-sweet scent of gingerbread in the air now had a bitter aftertaste to it that you knew was caused by the massive hole in your heart. And it didn’t help that the reason for this void was smiling next to you.
“Here we are,” he breathed, glancing sideways at you. It’s nightfall. The drive took four hours and you slept for most of it.
“The rules,” you reminded, making him nod. “Don’t forget them.”
“Alright, babe.”
“Babe?” you scowled, making Mingyu chuckle.
“Yes, ‘babe’,” he repeated, reaching for your hand on your thigh. “Come on, It’s only for the weekend.”
“Right. Only for the weekend,” you echoed, glancing at your joined hands.
Approaching the chateau, you marveled at the Christmas trees lined up along the driveway, and the glowing ornaments hanging on them. As you reach the entrance of the house, you can hear the low hum of amazement from Mingyu. Coming to the chateau always amazed him. Not that you can blame him. The chateau is magnificent— preserved and passed down through generations, it sits on a large estate and exudes grandeur and sophistication at every turn.
“Hello, sweetheart!” your mother greeted cheerfully, walking towards you with open arms.
You greeted her back with a smile, giving her a tight hug. As she approached Mingyu, you embraced the other members of your family who came out to greet you.
“You arrived right on time for dinner,” your father stated, giving you a one-armed hug and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “I made your favorite.”
“You did?” you exclaimed, gleaming in delight. Your father puffed his chest proudly. “Aw, thank you!”
“You’re welcome, Bean,” he replied, evidently pleased to have elicited a good reaction from you. He patted your shoulder before greeting Mingyu. “Mingyu, my boy! Welcome back.”
“Good evening, sir,” Mingyu beamed, shaking hands with your father but the latter pulled him into a hug.
“It’s been a while,” said your father, smiling contently. “How have you been, son?”
“Very well, sir,” your ex-boyfriend replied as he let your father lead him into the house. As they went, you could hear some of their conversation.
“Not as well as I have,” your father chuckled cockily. “Did you know I’ve been hitting the gym these days? Putting in some literal leg work.”
“Nice. Although I already know. Dave told me you were there once every week.”
“Of course. And what an excellent PT he was, Dave. You have my thanks for introducing me to him.”
You caught your mother by the arm as she was passing by you. “Dad’s been going to the gym?”
“Don’t get me started, y/n,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. She leans closer to speak in a quieter voice. “I’m glad that he’s exercising because it’s good for his health, but this thing which he calls ‘gains’ is making him vain and more annoying than usual.”
You snorted, unable to stifle your laughter. Your mother sighed with exasperation before turning to walk away from you. At that moment, you spotted Mingyu with your cousins, making you assume he was snatched away from your father’s grasp. They laughed as they chatted, contributing to the warmth permeating the atmosphere of the entire house. You couldn’t help admiring Mingyu, completely taken by his natural charm and charisma that make it easy for him to be friends with everyone.
Oh, to be Kim Mingyu— outstanding, endearing, compassionate; loved by all who meet him. Visually, he’s remarkably handsome, with his tan skin and prominent features, brilliant eyes that gleam with kindness, and a beautiful smile that lights up his face. He’s quick-witted and intelligent, capable of holding conversations about various subjects at different levels of seriousness. His sense of humor is the cherry on top, bringing laughter and joy to every gathering. He’s incredibly thoughtful too, not to mention caring. Whether it's helping out with chores, lending a listening ear, or surprising them with thoughtful gestures, Mingyu loved your family as much as he loved you. This is why he was able to build a strong connection with them, something you would hate to break if you were to reveal that you two have broken up.
In your family’s eyes, Mingyu is more than just your boyfriend; he's a part of the family, someone they wholeheartedly embrace and admire. Sometimes you’d think you fumbled when you broke up with him but then you get a flashback of the events leading up to the breakup and you realize nobody is perfect; not even the Golden Boy, Kim Mingyu.
“Everything alright?” he asked upon approaching you. He had caught you staring from across the hall while he was catching up with your cousins.
“Yeah. Mom said we should all head to the dining hall for dinner.”
“Sure. Let’s go,” he beamed, placing a hand on your waist as you led the way.
You headed straight to the dining area for dinner, where you got to meet the rest of your family who will be joining you for the weekend. Most of your relatives hold their own Christmas celebrations, the others who don’t get invited for a holiday break by those who want to host. Your mother is an excellent host, and she always sends Christmas invitations to your extended family, regardless of whether they can make it or not. As a matter of fact, Christmas at the Chateau is quite a popular recurring event in your family. That being said, there are always unfamiliar faces each year, as well as regulars who are more tight-knit with your immediate family.
“Dear lord, if it isn’t y/n,” said Aunt Lydia, a distant aunt whom you’ve only met a handful of times because she lived halfway across the globe and only showed up for important family functions. “Last time I saw you, you were wearing braces and corrective glasses. Now you’re a beautiful lady. Isn’t that right, Lena?”
Lena, her daughter, gave you a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. “It’s been a while, y/n.”
“You returned her sweet smile and let her hold your hand. 'Good to see you, Auntie. It’s been a long time. Good to see you too, Lena.' Their eyes were fixed behind you, making you glance back only to realize they were looking at Mingyu. He was chatting with some of your cousins, laughing about things you couldn’t comprehend from where you were standing.
“Is that your boyfriend? Mingyu, was it?” your aunt asked.
Your brows lifted, mildly surprised. “You know about Mingyu?”
“Oh, I heard about him. All good things,” she giggled. “I heard you’ve been together a long time?”
“I guess you could say that,” you chuckled awkwardly. At that same moment, Mingyu caught you looking so he smiled at you and then excused himself from your cousins. “I should introduce you to him.”
As soon as Mingyu was within reach, he snaked an arm around your waist, and you placed a hand on his shoulder as you motioned to your relatives.
“Auntie, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my aunt from Europe. You haven’t met her before because she rarely comes here.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Mingyu beamed, leaning towards the elder lady for a brief hug.
“And this is my cousin, Lena.”
“Lena. Nice to meet you,” Mingyu recited, shaking hands with your cousin. The reluctance on Lena’s face when Mingyu didn’t greet her the same way he greeted your aunt did not go unnoticed by you.
“Hi, Mingyu. Pleased to meet you,” she replied, chuckling nervously before backing away and fiddling with the ends of her blonde hair.
As observant as you were, you knew right then and there that Lena was attracted to your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend, although no one knows that yet. Nonetheless, you didn’t think much about it. It’s Kim Mingyu after all, loved by all who meet him. You couldn’t blame anyone who fell for him at first sight as it was the case for you when you first met him all those years ago.
It was at a college party, your third party in a week because everyone was trying to hold one to welcome the new semester. You had just transferred from another campus, and your friends were showing you around. Mingyu was by the poolside of that big house, dunking students into the water as a penalty for losing against him in arm wrestling. He seemed to enjoy the attention too, not shying away from it but not being cocky about it either. Both boys and girls surrounded him, all of them wanting to be friends with the most popular sophomore on campus.
Boys think he is cool, and girls, well, they’re girls—enamored by the handsome specimen, just like you were at that very moment. Daphne was the one who told you his name and added in his reputation for turning down girls without batting an eye. Not that you had any plans of confessing to him anyway. He was cute, yes, but that’s all. In no time, he’ll become nothing but a passing crush.
You were wrong, of course. He talked to you that night, asking for your name. The rest was history.
“So, Mingyu, how was work? I heard you got promoted to regular. Is that true?”
“It is. And work is wonderful. The firm really does live up to its name.”
“As they should,” an uncle of yours chuckled. “The family has been doing business with them for the longest time. We wouldn’t trust them if they weren’t any good.”
“Oh, so you're in business with them?” Mingyu glanced at you, and you shrugged as if to say you had no idea.
Your father hummed in response. “That firm oversees the estate's accounts, as well as the company’s books. You didn’t know, did you?”
'No, sir. I had no idea,' Mingyu responded, astonished.
“The founder, Mr. Harrington, happened to be a family friend,” interjected your eldest brother, Allan, a hint of amusement in his voice. “There were talks about exploring partnerships elsewhere, but when we heard you were working there, Dad seemed to have a change of heart.”
Your father chuckled warmly, eyes twinkling as he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “That’s enough, Al. Don't put pressure on the young man.”
“Oh, right. Speaking of that, is anyone going to the wedding?”
“Whose wedding?”
“Mr. Harrington’s daughter’s wedding. You did receive the invitations, didn’t you?”
Dinner table conversations are often like this; topics that span from individual career pursuits to the latest news in business or finance. As you go through the food, the conversations also transition to mundane topics or updates on family members, such as children’s school performances or how your cousin’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere on their way to the chateau. And then it would circle back to more profound or intellectual subjects.
Mingyu blends in effortlessly in your bunch, almost as if he belonged there to begin with. Given a chance, Mingyu would become the most welcome member of your family if you married him.
“Pathetic,” you mumbled to yourself, ridiculing your line of thought. Marriage with Mingyu? Are you serious? How could you possibly entertain the idea of marrying someone who let you leave without so much as a fight?
Your mood soured in an instant, so you stood up from your seat and excused yourself from the table as they all chatted away. The dinner was over but everyone was too immersed in their conversations to leave the table. Your feet brought you to a balcony overlooking the back garden and the pool area of the estate. It was cold but the tea was warm. Just when you thought you were alone to wallow in self-pity and overthinking, Mingyu's endearing voice called out your name, and his warm jacket settled on your shoulders.
“Everything alright?” he asked, standing behind you as he held your arms. “You left so suddenly.“
“I’m fine. Just a little stuffed,“ you told him, looking far beyond the dark horizon. The night sky was clear, with stars twinkling faintly above. As you took a deep breath, you pondered about the farce you and Mingyu were attempting to pull off this weekend. Is it worth the risk? Like hell, is it even necessary? You should have just told them the truth long ago and got it over with.
“Hey,“ Mingyu prompted, noticing your gloomy disposition. “What’s going on in your pretty little mind?“
You loved it when Mingyu talked to you like this, but not this time though. Given the situation you are in, the only thing he’s making you feel right now is annoyance and frustration.
“Stop that, Gyu,“ you grumbled, pulling away from his embrace. “There’s no need to act all lovey-dovey and sweet.“
Mingyu chuckled and looked around. “And make them wonder why we’re distant? That’s totally gonna convince them that we’re happily in love.“
Happily in-love? How can he say these things so carelessly? “We’re fine. No one’s suspicious.“
“We’ve been here three hours,“ he countered. “Back there, your mom was asking me if you were okay. If we’re going to make this work, shouldn’t we act like we usually do?“
“Fine.“ You rolled your eyes. “Just stick to the rules.“
The rules were simple: stay in character, respect boundaries, don't tell anyone, and end it once you leave the chateau. That’s it. You can’t just walk into this without precautions, can you? So you and Mingyu agreed on these rules, which are more your rules than his. Either way, you intend to be faithful to these rules as it is the only way to prevent this whole thing from spiraling out of control.
You went up first to freshen up and get ready for bed. You scanned the room to see how you’d share it with your ex. Considering Mingyu’s height, the long couch by the balcony would be cramped for him. Sure, he’d fit just fine but he’s the kind of sleeper who likes to sprawl on the bed and take up a lot of space. The floor would be cruel, but it has more space for sure.
“It’s better than the couch, right?” you mused aloud, making your way to the door to request an extra mattress. But hesitating, you withdrew your hand from the doorknob. The floor option suddenly seemed unwise because asking for an extra mattress would surely raise suspicions about the state of your relationship. Opting instead for the balcony couch, you arranged a pillow and sheets for Mingyu. Then after discreetly taking a sleeping pill, you passed out for the day.
Waking up and seeing Mingyu in the morning felt normal, that was until you realized he was across the room instead of right next to you in bed. You took a deep breath as you pushed yourself up, your eyes still fixed on Mingyu’s sleeping figure.
“Must’ve been uncomfortable,” you mumbled to yourself.
The bed you used to share was warm, familiar, and comforting. His arms were strong, providing security as you awoke to his scent and the enveloping warmth of his presence each morning. Sometimes he'd be up and out of bed before you were, and you'd wake up to the nice aroma of coffee waiting for you in the kitchen. Other times, you'd wake him with a simple breakfast of eggs and pancakes, your culinary expertise may have been limited, but your affection was boundless.
There were also times when you'd both wake too early, your passion spurred in the hush of early morning hours. He'd be gentle and quick, but you liked those kinds of mornings. You used to think the mornings you shared with Mingyu were mundane, uneventful, and slow, but looking back, those mornings now shimmer with newfound appreciation. Now that it's gone and you're missing it, you couldn't help but acknowledge the possibility that you might have taken it all for granted.
As you sat on the edge of your bed pondering, Mingyu stirred, taking a deep breath and letting out a long raspy exhale. He blinked at you several times, smiling once his vision became clearer.
“Good morning,” he sang. If you were still together, you’d immediately jump on him for a cuddle. Now that you’re not, it’s difficult to keep a straight face. You don't even know how to properly respond to that simple greeting.
“Morning,” you greeted back. Then again, if you were still together, he wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch to begin with.
The land where the chateau sat is only a small part of the vast estate that your family owns. If one were to take a quick drive or a ten-minute hike up, they would find a meadow and a lake further ahead. As a child, you had picnics there often, especially in spring. In the winter, a white blanket of snow covers what used to be lush greenery, making it a perfect place for sledding. As such, it became a family activity every Christmas.
You stepped out of Mingyu’s car, blinking at the beautiful white canvas before you. Mingyu uttered a low “wow” as he approached you, smiling toothily while he tightened his padded jacket. You breathed the crisp air, exhaling through your mouth as you did. This wasn’t his first time sledding with your family, or experiencing the expansive landscape of your home. You had shared picnics with Mingyu in these areas, basking in the beauty of spring or summer. Those quiet moments are among your fondest memories with him.
“What do you think?” he asked, eyes gleaming.
You shrugged. “I like it here better in spring.”
Behind you, you could hear the soft thuds of car doors being closed as your family members emerged from their vehicles.
“Oh, look! It’s perfect!” Blair cheered with her hands clasped together in delight.
Your father chuckled heartily beside you and only then did you notice that he had caught up to you. He placed his arm over your shoulder, giving you a side hug as he said to your sister, “What did I tell you? That heavy snowfall last night will do us some good.”
Ecstatic, Blair dragged her husband towards the hill; the latter pulling a sled. Your cousins followed them, and your father too while you stood there pondering your choice to come here. Should you have just stayed with your mom and aunts back at home?
Allan approached Mingyu, giving him a nod. Mingyu smiled back, saying, “Hey, Al.”
“Hey. I don’t know how to say this but…” your brother paused, glanced over his shoulder at the excited children emerging from his car, and then shrugged at Mingyu. “Are you okay with a bunch of kids bothering you all day?”
“What does that even mean?” you interjected, although you weren’t part of the conversation.
“The boys want to go sledding with Mingyu,” Allan sighed, placing his hands on his waist. “Only with Mingyu.”
Mingyu chuckled. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” Allan probed, looking somewhat apologetic. Mingyu nodded in assurance. “Okay, man. Thanks a lot.”
You watched as Mingyu approached your brother’s truck with a big goofy grin. Your nephews cheered his name before jumping into his arms at the same time. Mingyu laughingly carried the boys off the truck and you found yourself impressed by how strong he was to be able to carry two big kids. Then again, he had always been strong. He works out a lot and his efforts show in his toned physique. You know damn well how ungodly gorgeous he looks underneath those thick layers of clothing.
You gasped, shocked by your lewd thought. Shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind, you muttered, “What the fuck.”
“Come again?” Allan asked cluelessly.
“I was talking to myself,” you deadpanned. Allan said he’ll follow the others up the hill so you nodded at him and told him you’ll stay to take pictures. He didn’t object to that so you grabbed the camera in the car and went to find a good spot to take pictures of everyone.
For the next hour, everyone went up and down the hill in their sleds, their cheers and laughter echoing through the air. Your father was dragging your little niece in her bright pink sled. Daniel and your cousins are on the other side of the hill, having a snowball fight. They would sometimes include you by throwing snowballs at you but you would dodge and threaten to punch them if they didn’t stop– as if your tiny fist would inflict any real pain. Even Allan who was just grinning around got roped into the fight. Blair didn’t give sledding another go after her first time because she didn’t find it ‘as fun as it looked’; so she’s down the hill making a snowman with her husband.
You made sure to take pictures of everyone. As you did, you found your lenses being directed at Mingyu more often than you’d like to admit. You wanted to be pretentious and say it was because he and the kids were adorable, but you knew that you just couldn’t help yourself. He was just too close to your heart and of course, him with kids is impossibly adorable.
“y/n! Show me the pictures!” your sister called so you trekked the snow back to where the cars were parked.
You let them scan through the photos and left to go up and meet your niece and father halfway up the hill. Your father seemed tired so you thought it was best to let him rest and take the kid off his hands.
“I think she’s tired too,” your father said, chuckling as you climbed down. “She must have snoozed on her sled twice.”
“She did?” you asked, turning to your niece. “Did you snooze, baby? Are you tired? Do you wanna go home with Mom?”
The darling little girl just shook her head, her eyes focused on her parents. When they spotted you, your brother-in-law happily took her off your arms. There was a quick chat before they decided to go back to the chateau and call it a day. Everyone followed suit, running down the hill back to the cars after being called back—everyone, except for Mingyu who walked down the other side of the hill instead. You decided to follow him, stopping Allan on your way.
“Where is he going?” you asked your panting brother. He’s got one kid on his shoulders and the other on the sled he was dragging.
“Who?” he asked, following your gaze. “Oh, Mingyu? Charlie’s sled went missing. He said he'd go find it.”
You went after Mingyu, hiking up the hill and trekking down to the other side where you found him heading straight into the sparse woods. Surely the sled didn’t go as far as into the woods, right?
“Kim Mingyu!” you called out, running after him. Your feet sank into the snow as you did, making it a little hard to run fast. “Mingyu!”
Mingyu stopped upon hearing you, turning to look at you and wave. “Come here!”
You frowned when you noticed that he was holding a sled. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t respond but instead, waited for you to catch up to him. As soon as you did, you pointed to what he was holding. “Is that Charlie’s?”
“Yeah, it slid all the way to that tree over there,” he replied, pointing to the tree but you didn’t bother to look.
“And? Where else are you planning to go? Everyone’s leaving.”
Still grinning goofily, he grabbed your gloved hand and said, “Let’s go to the lake.”
“The lake?”
“Yeah. I saw it from up the hill. It looked awesome.”
You scoffed. “It’s probably frozen.”
“I know. Let’s check it out,” he chimed, dragging you but you didn’t budge. That made him stop and glance back at you with a pout.
You looked away, feigning indifference. “It’s this way.”
Mingyu trailed behind you, his hand still tight around yours. While you waded through the snowy path, you tried to remember if you had ever gone to the lake with Mingyu before. You have, a few times, but not in winter. Usually, there was nothing special or pretty about it in winter. As kids, you were forbidden from playing at the frozen lake in case the ice broke and you fell in, so you have never tried it before. There was just no reason to go there, except maybe to look around and pass the time.
“Oh, wow,” he exclaimed upon arriving at the spot.
As expected, it was frozen. It wasn't even the picturesque, crystal-clear kind of frozen, but rather a boring, unremarkable freeze.
Disappointed, you said, “Nothing to see here."
“Are you kidding me? It looks really cool,” he replied, but you knew he was just being polite.
“It’s really not,” you deadpanned.
Mingyu chuckled. “You’re right. It’s not.”
“Okay. Let’s go then,” you retorted, tugging him back to where you came from.
Mingyu resisted, pulling back with enough force to make you lose your balance and bump into him. He held you in place, his face close and his breathing warm against your cheek. With a goofy grin, he asked, “Ever ice-skated on a lake before?”
“No, and this is not that kind of lake.”
“You haven’t ice-skated on a lake before?” he asked incredulously. “But there’s a lake right here.”
“This is a dangerous lake.”
“Why?”
“Because...” you trailed off, searching for an explanation. “To be honest, I'm not even sure why.”
The massive grin on Mingyu’s lips made you roll your eyes. It was the kind of expression that said he wanted to go ice skating on the lake. You’re not even wearing the right shoes. You don’t know how deep the lake goes, and you have no idea how thick the ice has gotten.
“Don’t be stupid, Gyu.”
“Come on! It's gonna be fun!”
“I think you meant 'dangerous'.”
“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised.
That made you grumble and stomp your feet a few times. “Ugh, fine!”
It was like releasing a dog from its leash in a park. Hand in hand, Mingyu excitedly rushed to the edge of the lake, where he cautiously tested the ice, first one foot and then the other. He took a few steps around and one small jump– then a big one that caused a surge of panic to grip you.
“Stop! What if it falls through?”
Mingyu threw his head back laughing. “It’s alright, the ice is pretty thick. Come here.”
You stared at the hand he was offering and then shook your head. Mingyu let out a small tut, seizing your hand firmly and guiding you toward the ice. You trod carefully as you went, looking down below at the murky water and wondering if it was solid enough to hold the two of you.
As you approached the center of the lake, Mingyu released your hand momentarily to zip up your jacket snugly. You pouted as he cupped your cheeks, still protesting at his idea of 'fun'.
"Just relax. I've got you. You'll be fine," he reassured, adjusting your beanie to shield your ears from the biting cold. You nodded, gradually getting used to the icy ground beneath your feet.
Just as you began to ease into the moment, breathing freely and feeling the tension in your muscles dissipate, Mingyu suddenly rushed forward, dragging you along with him toward the center. Panic surged through your veins, your heart racing uncontrollably.
Your shrieks tore through the quiet air, overlapping with Mingyu’s ecstatic laughter. You clung to his hand tightly, scared for good reason. If the ice breaks and you fall in, at least you won’t die alone–that was what you were thinking as you closed your eyes and let Mingyu run around in circles. And while you grappled with the chaos in your head, his reassuring reverberated through your ears.
"It's okay," he consoled, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I've got you! Open your eyes, baby."
You did as he asked, reluctantly opening your eyes to be greeted by a broad, toothy grin from your charming companion. Was he really persuasive? Or were you simply taken aback by the endearment he just used on you? Yes, you know he had been calling you that ever since you got here so to avoid raising suspicions on your pretense, but why did it send a surge of nostalgia this time?
It almost felt like the relief of finally experiencing something you had missed so dearly.
“See? How fun is this?” he shouted, still running with you.
"Not fun at all!"
"Really?" he asked again, skeptical. "Not even a little?"
Of all the people you have met so far in your life, Mingyu had the most contagious smile which was why he had you smiling in no time. Before you knew it, you were running around the frozen lake, fear and anxiety long forgotten. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and sore from laughing too much. Your shrieks echoed across the icy surface as he took his turn chasing after you. You didn't even notice how your goofing around has turned into a spontaneous game of tag.
Lost in the moment, you lost track of time, the hours slipping away unnoticed as you enjoyed each other's company and indulged the children in you.
“Caught you!” he exclaimed triumphantly, tackling near the edge of the lake, and sending both of you tumbling onto the soft snow.
You lay there breathless and giggling, feeling both exhilarated and euphoric from your shenanigans. Glancing sideways at him, you found him already looking at you, and both of you burst into laughter at each other's flushed faces. The chill of the snow against your neck soon became unbearable, prompting you to sit up. With a playful tap on Mingyu's chest, you urged him to do the same.
“God, I’m so tired,” he complained but the smile on his face never left.
“Yeah. You’re crazy energetic,” you retorted, letting out a long exhale.
Mingyu scooted closer to you, wrapping a hand around your waist. “But you had fun.”
Rolling your eyes, you leaned on his chest, comfortable in his warmth. “Yeah. I did.”
“Good. Let’s do that.”
“Do what?” you hummed, closing your eyes to bask in the warmth that was engulfing you.
“Oh, you know. Loosen up and take things easy,” he replied and that made you pull away to look at him.
“Meaning…?”
“Meaning we should stop worrying about it.” He tapped your nose affectionately, a warm smile on his lips. “It’s Christmas. Let's have fun.”
You sighed, the weight of your concerns heavy in your mind. "But that's not why we came here."
"I know," he acknowledged with a groan. "We'll get there eventually. For now, let's just... you know... forget about it. Just for now."
He was staring at you intently and you couldn’t help but stare right back. Everything about this moment was overwhelming—the cold, his warmth, his gaze, the proximity—everything. You both sat there face to face, quietly staring and speaking with your eyes only. At one point, it seemed as if you had come to a mutual decision on something, but you sat there waiting for him to make the first move.
“God, you look so beautiful in this light.”
Your heart somersaulted in your chest, but you were so tensed that you tried to humor the nerves away. “Did you just quote Ed Sheeran?”
Mingyu’s brows furrowed slightly, but his affectionate gaze remained. “And you’re so adorable too.”
At this point, your soul has left your body out of sheer joy. Still, you couldn't resist teasing him in response. “Duh, Mingyu. Tell me something I don’t know?”
“I could kiss you right now.”
You exhaled sharply. “Well, don’t be shy now.”
As Mingyu leaned in for a kiss, you closed your eyes in anticipation. You could already feel his breath fanning your face but before his lips could meet yours, the sound of car horns honking nearby shattered the beautiful air enveloping you. Startled, a loud gasp escaped your lips while Mingyu swiftly withdrew.
“What the actual f–” You stood up and spun to see whoever it was and spotted a pickup truck from a distance. Daniel’s head popped out from the window of the driver’s seat, followed by his shouting.
“What are you guys doing out here?” your brother called out, pressing on the horns again. “Everyone’s looking for you back at the chateau!”
You grumbled, stomping your feet as you walked towards the vehicle looking annoyed. Mingyu grabbed the sled he was looking for earlier and followed behind you. When you reached the truck, you stood by Daniel’s window with a deep scowl.
“Everyone thought you guys were dead or something,” he quipped, rolling his windows up just before you started pounding on it irritably.
“What? Can’t I have some alone time with my boyfriend?” you huffed, kicking the tire when you failed to open the door.
Daniel was making faces at you from inside the car while Mingyu chuckled behind you. He gently squeezed your shoulder to calm you down, but you glared at him instead. Mingyu instinctively backed away, raising his hands in surrender.
"Surely you won't take it out on your boyfriend, will you?" he asked with a coy grin. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and seeing this, Mingyu puffed out his chest proudly and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. "I am your boyfriend, right?"
“Gosh, men are so annoying,” you whined, reaching for the backseat door so you could climb into the car.
Making gingerbread houses is a serious activity in your house; it was a while competition between you, your sister, and everyone else who wants to challenge. As such, it has become your favorite activity since you were a child. You were amazing at it and would always come out on top with your intricate designs and sturdy outputs. That was when Mingyu wasn’t in the picture yet. Now, you’ve been on a lose streak for three Christmases in a row and this year doesn’t look promising either.
“Mingyu! Careful with that!” you warned as he placed the roofing for your house. Mingyu froze mid-air, glancing at you nervously.
“I think you should do it,” he pleaded, chuckling nervously.
You rolled your eyes, grumbling as you carefully took the piece from his hand. Mingyu is a good cook, but pastry? Definitely not his forte. His big hands are among your favorite features of his, but it’s useless in any activity that requires careful handling and finesse.
Blair rounded the counter and approached you. She took a big sniff and said, “Hmm, it smells like a loser over here.”
You scoffed, nudging her elbow. “Go away!”
With immense focus, you placed the roofing on your gingerbread house successfully, dusting your hands contently right after.
“You’re so good at this,” Mingyu whispered next to you, beaming. Proud, you scrunched your nose at him and opened your mouth when he offered a piece of bread for you to eat.
“Daniel, dear,” your mother called from the doorway, catching everyone’s attention. “Come help with the tree.”
Daniel skipped across the room to your mom, making your cousin Sydney sigh in relief of finally getting rid of the blackhole in her team.
“Mingyu, you too please.”
Mingyu nodded at her and turned to you to say, “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” you replied, not even glancing at him as he scooped your cheek for a kiss. “It’s okay if you don’t. I might have a bigger chance of winning if you don’t.”
“Where are they going?” Lena asked, eyeing the doorway.
“Mom’s probably setting up the Christmas tree for tonight,” you replied.
“Why? Isn’t there already a Christmas tree?” Lena questioned.
“It’s a chateau tradition,” Sydney explained. “Before Christmas Eve dinner, we decorate a tree as a whole family using special ornaments.”
“Special ornaments?”
Aunt Lydia, interjected, “Ornaments that hold sentimental value, Lena. This house has been in the family for generations and has seen over a hundred Christmases. Our family loves to look back and think about the history that has shaped this very family into who we are today.”
Lena hummed in amazement. “That’s so awesome and special.”
“It is.” You smiled, mirroring the fond looks on Blair and Sydney’s faces.
“It’s pompous if I do say so myself,” said a familiar voice entering the kitchen hall. You spun to see your Aunt Sylvie walk in with a charismatic air about her. She sauntered in, heels clicking on the floors. “It’s a reminder that we are high-born snobs. Trust fund babies who never have to work a day in our life and still live a life of luxury.”
“Oh, god,” Sydney muttered beside you, looking mortified. “She’s so late.”
“Hello, children,” she lilted, winking at you specifically when you met her gaze. Your heart felt full, forever in awe of your favorite relative.
“Sylvie?” your Aunt Lydia exclaimed.
Sylvie’s smile got redirected. “How nice of you to finally join us, Lydia. I couldn’t believe it when they told me.”
They both laughed as they embraced. Lena’s mom grinned playfully at aunt Sylvie. “Still living the high-born snobbish life?”
Sylvie tutted confidently. “It’s what I do best.”
At first glance, Aunt Sylvie is no different from the rest of the family, but she’s the wild card. In a family known for its polished manners and prestigious accomplishments, she stood out like a rose in a garden of daisies. She lives a privileged life while staying unapologetically herself. Her laugh was always loud and infectious, her stories filled with both gossip and adventures.
“Going for the win this year, huh?” Aunt Sylvie remarked as she examined your work.
“That’s the plan,” you replied with a grin.
“Well, good luck. You have my vote, no matter what,” she promised, reaching for the wine bottle on the counter.
Blair protested, “Hey, that’s cheating!”
“Playing favorites, that’s what it is,” Sydney pouted. Aunt Sylvie giggled, sauntering over to Sydney and planting a playful kiss on her cheek. Sydney just rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re still my favorite daughter,” Sylvie teased, tucking a strand of Sydney’s hair behind her ear before strolling away with her glass of red wine.
“That’s because I’m your only daughter!” Sydney shouted after her, a smile tugging at her lips as her mother exited the kitchen.
Mingyu, Daniel, and Sydney’s boyfriend, Luke, burst into the kitchen, their laughter and chatter filling the room. Everything was going smoothly until Mingyu bounded over to you, knocking over your intricately decorated gingerbread Christmas tree. The tree, which you had painstakingly adorned with candy ornaments and icing, was supposed to be the crowning jewel of your work. Now, it lay in a heap of crumbs on the kitchen floor.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, staring blankly at the mess. “Kim Mingyu…”
“Oh, damn, did I do that?” he asked, looking genuinely bewildered. Neither of you could figure out how it happened; one moment it was standing, and the next it was on the floor.
Allan’s wife looked over, her eyes widening at the sight. “Oh, no, Y/N,” she exclaimed sympathetically.
Everyone else hurried over to see what had happened, their faces mirroring the same look of pity for you.
“I knew it smelled like a loser over here,” Blair snickered, unable to resist the jab.
The room fell silent for a moment before you managed a rueful smile. “Well, there goes my masterpiece.”
Mingyu sheepishly picked up a piece of gingerbread. “I’ll help you rebuild it,” he offered, his tone earnest and apologetic.
Daniel couldn’t hide his grin. “And destroy it again for good measure.”
The room was soon filled with laughter and playful teasing, all at your expense. You just took it in stride, although you were a little disheartened. Amidst all that, Mingyu pulled you into a warm hug, even kissing the top of your head.
“That’s okay, baby. Winning is great, but it’s nothing if you didn’t have fun doing it together,” he consoled you, although you could tell he was just teasing you like everyone else.
“Go away,” you scolded playfully.
It was as if you had never broken up at all. You shared more than just the playful moments at the lake or sweet displays of affection in the kitchen. During the family tree decorating, you and Mingyu were wrapped in your own world, laughing and giggling as you both struggled to untangle a string of lights—only to end up getting scolded for not helping enough.
For the Christmas Eve dinner, you wore an elegant green dress that received a dramatic round of applause from Mingyu. He stood up, clapping with exaggerated enthusiasm and making everyone laugh. You joined your family at a beautifully set dinner table, sharing stories and laughter over the delicious meal. You sat opposite Mingyu, which gave you both the perfect excuse to exchange loving glances throughout the evening, basking in the warmth and acceptance from everyone around you.
After dinner where Blair won the gingerbread house contest for the second time in a row, everyone gathered in the movie room, snuggling together under warm blankets. Your head rested on Mingyu’s chest, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder. Both of you felt content and at home in each other’s embrace. As the movie ended, the younger kids were tucked into bed, and the older family members began to retire to their rooms. You and your cousins had other plans.
In the cozy warmth of the game room, where you and the other young adults gathered for some unchaperoned bonding time of your own, the game of charades became wildly competitive and chaotic. You and Sydney huddled together on a big sofa, guessing the answers that the boys were acting out, groaning and cheering with everyone else as the game progressed. Drinks flowed freely, light and festive, keeping spirits high.
At one point, when the game got boring, everyone settled in front of the fire, sharing stories and cracking jokes. The flickering flames cast a warm glow on your faces, and the room was filled with the comforting sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. Everything was perfect, beautiful new memories were being made.
And then Mingyu managed to convince you to go out for a walk. Bundled up in sweaters and padded jackets, you clung to his arm for support, letting the cool winter evening sober you up. Mingyu kept cracking jokes, and you laughed like you were in a stand-up comedy bar. This went on until both of you reached the pool and decided to turn back.
The weather was cold, but the atmosphere was warm and sweet. And the smell—strangely enough, you enjoyed the sweet, smoky scent coming from the chimneys, much like how some people find the earthy smell after a rain shower pleasant and refreshing.
“What are you thinking about?" Mingyu asked, slinging his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.
“Nothing, I…” you took a deep breath as you started walking back to the main house. "I just love Christmas.”
“I can see why,” he chuckled lightly, pressing a quick peck on the side of your head.
You rolled your eyes and moved your head a few inches away from him. “Hey, that’s rule number one.”
“Actually, it’s rule number two,” he corrected, grinning. “And can I please break it?”
“You’re only asking me that now? Literally, after you were done breaking it?”
Mingyu nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Gosh, you’re so…” you huffed incredulously, taking his arm off your shoulder and walking ahead of him.
“Wait. Let’s go together,” he called, chuckling.
When he caught up to you, he held your hand and intertwined your fingers. His smile was warm, and also very goofy. You scoffed and laughed, unable to hide how charmed you were by him. Quietly, you trekked back to the house, your breaths visible in the cold air.
“Hot tub?” he asked as soon as you were in front of your bedroom door.
You were taken aback by the offer. “What?”
Mingyu chuckled nervously, equally flustered. He then cleared his throat and tried to keep a straight face. “I don’t mean… that. I meant you should get a warm bath in the hot tub before… Ugh, fuck.”
Mingyu turned away, burying his face in his palms and muttering curses under his breath. You, on the other hand, were still processing the situation. You were shocked that he was offering the hot tub, only to find out he didn’t mean it the way you understood it.
“God, it’s in my head now.”
“What is?” you asked, belatedly realizing it was a bad question. You should have known what he was trying to say. The hot tub in the bathroom of your bedroom was a very intimate place for the two of you. A hiccup escaped your lips as you put two and two together.
Awkwardly, you pushed the door open and said, “I’m gonna go ahead.”
You walked briskly inside the bedroom, eager to avoid being in the same space as Mingyu. But then you turned around and saw that he had walked inside too. How did you even forget that you were sharing this room?
There was a moment of silence as you both stood there, tension wrapping the room. Mingyu finally broke the ice, his voice soft and hesitant. “Look, I’m sorry if I made things weird.”
You sighed, shaking your head. “No, it’s okay. I just… didn’t expect it.”
Mingyu took a step closer. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t even mean it that way.”
You smiled faintly, feeling the warmth of his sincerity. “I know. Thanks, Mingyu.”
He grinned, the awkwardness slowly melting away. “How about I start the bath for you?”
You nodded, appreciating the gesture. “That would be nice.”
Mingyu moved to the bathroom, and you heard the sound of water filling the tub. You took off your jacket and sat on the edge of the bed, your mind swirling with thoughts. Soon, Mingyu returned, his eyes gentle as he said, “It’s ready.”
You stood up and walked to the bathroom, pausing at the doorway. “Do you want to join me? I mean, it was cold out there.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he smiled softly. “You said that’s rule number two.”
You nodded. “I know.”
“Is it alright with you?”
You nodded again, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. “It is.”
Both of you undressed and slipped into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you in a soothing embrace. Mingyu sat across from you, his eyes never leaving yours. The intimacy of the moment was undeniable, the heat of the water matched by the growing warmth between you.
Mingyu reached out, his hand finding yours under the water. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured.
I’ve missed you, you screamed in your head. You could never say it out loud, so you just squeezed his hand gently and said, “Me too.”
The bath was a haven of warmth and quiet conversation, the water relaxing your muscles and easing the tension between you. After a while, you both got out and dried off, slipping into comfortable pajamas.
Back in the bedroom, you climbed into bed, tapping the space beside you when you saw Mingyu heading for the couch. He took your invitation and slid in beside you. You both lay there in the dark, the silence a total contrast to the chaos in your head. Finally, he turned towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close.
“Goodnight,” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck.
“Goodnight,” you replied, your voice soft and content.
As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the awkwardness of the evening was replaced by a comforting sense of closeness. The warmth of his embrace and the sound of his breathing lulled you to sleep, both of you feeling at home in each other’s arms once more.
Waking up beside Mingyu felt like stepping back in time, the familiarity of his presence was bittersweet. He lay there, peaceful in the soft glow of the winter morning. You were just beginning to forget how it felt like to wake up next to him, now here he is, looking as breathtaking as you remembered him to be. This whole pseudo-relationship setup truly was a bad idea because you can already picture yourself resetting your moving-on process back to Day 1.
Or maybe, by the end of this, there will be no need to forget and move on, you pondered to yourself, feeling hopeful.
You fought with the urge to reach out and touch him, to let your fingers trace the lines of his face, reminding yourself that you were no longer in that kind of relationship. After all, you had made it clear that this was no longer that kind of relationship.
But wait… Why were you so hesitant about touching him? You were literally in the same hot tub the night before, bare and naked. Why would you be so wary about something as innocent as running your fingers through his hair? Hadn't you already crossed boundaries far more intimate than this?
Swallowing your pride and the lump in your throat, you slowly extended a hand to touch his face. Slowly, carefully, making sure you don’t wake him up. Just as you were feeling the warmth emanating from his skin, the ringing of your phone on the nightstand snapped you back into reality. Cursing under your breath, you snatched the phone from the nightstand, the name "Daphne" flashing insistently on the screen.
Your movements made Mingyu stir, groaning lowly as he stretched his legs out; sleepy eyes directed at you. With a raspy voice, he said, “Hi.”
“Hi. Sorry,” you mouthed, phone pressed on your ear. “Daph, hello. What’s up?”
“Sorry to bother you while you’re spending the holidays with your beau– oh, ex-beau,” she teased, snickering from the other line. “How is it? Have you got back together yet?”
“Please shut up,” you laughed nervously, eyeing Mingyu. You excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to speak with your friend in private.
“I guess it’s not going so well, huh?” she asked just as you were locking the bathroom door.
“Daph, the purpose of this trip is not to get back together,” you insisted, rolling your eyes although she could not see it. “Where did you even get that idea?”
Grumbling, you snatched your toothbrush and put toothpaste on it to clean your teeth with.
“I don’t know. Maybe from my exuberant interior designer who was just shopping with me the other day,” she retorted, poking fun at you. “Alright, I’m sorry. I was just teasing you. I actually called to let you know that I got called into the store because some materials came in that I don’t remember ordering. So, naturally, I assumed these are for the renovations?”
“What are they?” you asked back with the toothbrush still in your mouth.
“It says here that these are gold-plated clothing racks, premium quality.”
You hummed, confused. “I didn’t order anything like that.”
“Oh, is that so? Alright. Maybe I did. Or someone I know,” she sighed and tutted. “Anyway, I’ll sort this out. Sorry to bother you.”
“Call me anytime, Daph,” you told her, your eyes darting to the bathroom door when you heard a loud thud from outside.
“I will. Tell everyone I said ‘hi’. And don’t swoon over your ex too much.”
“Whatever,” you sighed, exasperated.
“Merry Christmas, sugar.”
“Merry Christmas.”
When you pushed through the door, you found Mingyu sitting on the edge of the bed, looking dazed with messy hair and a tired stare. He lifted his gaze when he noticed you, and flattened his lips into a sleepy smile.
“What happened?” you asked worriedly, taking notice of the blanket and pillow on the floor.
“Oh, nothing, I just…” Mingyu sighed, scratched his neck, and stretched it sideways. “I fell.”
You gawked at him. “You fell?”
He nodded, sheepish. You exhaled sharply, not even surprised. Mingyu, as big as he is, is by far the clumsiest person you’d ever met.
“Go wash up,” you instructed, walking towards the pile of beddings to pick them up. Instead of heeding your order, Mingyu snatched you by the waist, making you squeal as he swept you up and fell on the bed with you.
You tried to free yourself from his arms, but he was stronger than you by miles. “Let me go, Gyu.”
He hummed his disapproval and nuzzled on your neck. “Let’s stay in bed all day today, okay?”
“No,” you whined, squirming but he pinned you down. Despite your efforts to escape, he only seemed to take it as a challenge, launching into a relentless tickle attack.
“Kim Mingyu! No!” you warned sternly, pointing your index finger at him in an attempt to assert authority..
The grin that he gave you was menacing. “Kim Mingyu, yes.”
“Mingyu, I swear to God I will— aaaagh!” Shrieks and laughter filled your bedroom, along with Mingyu’s taunting and deep grunts each time you kicked his shins or punched his chest. He kept going until tears started streaming from your eyes from too much laughter. Only when your pleading voice began cracking did Mingyu stop.
“Gosh. You’re so annoying!” you sobbed, infuriated. He laid beside you on the bed, wrapping you back in his embrace.
“Sorry, baby,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I was just playing around with you.”
“Well, it was not fun! Playing is supposed to be fun!” you scolded, swatting his arm away.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he shushed.
But you continued whining. “No, you’re not!”
You managed to get away from him and leave the bed to slump on the sofa and sulk. Mingyu sighed, although he looked genuinely apologetic. He always teased you like this, knowing how ticklish you were. And you always responded this way too, sulking and whining as much as you want.
“Baby…” he called softly, making his way to you.
“Don’t you call me that!” you retorted sharply.
Mingyu chuckled. “Okay, sweetheart.”
You scoffed. “What are you, my mom?”
“Then, ‘honey’ maybe?” he chimed. You pushed him away with your foot, but he kept himself rooted in place, easily.
“Go away!”
"What about, 'darling'?" he continued, kneeling before you as he set your foot back down. He placed a gentle kiss on your knee, his lips lingering before trailing up your thigh. "My angel?"
The way he caressed your thigh tickled you in a way that was entirely different from what he did a while ago. This time was more sensitive, and pleasant… very pleasant.
“My love?” he sang, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.
You snatched your hand back, sighing as you scooted a little on the couch. “Stop it.”
Mingyu occupied the space next to you, touching your chin and lifting it so your eyes would meet his. “Why? I said I was sorry. Do you hate me for real?”
"No," you admitted with a pout, looking away. He gently redirected your gaze back to him.
You held his gaze, still scowling, but Mingyu's sweet smile softened your expression. He studied your face as if he didn’t already know it by heart, his eyes lingering on your lips. You flattened them together to discourage his advances, but he only chuckled and tapped your nose.
“You’re so cute,” he remarked.
You scoffed. “I know. Can’t say the same for you, though.”
Mingyu threw his head back in laughter before fixing his gaze on your lips again. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you, but before it could happen, loud knocks on your bedroom door interrupted the moment. Mingyu rose to open the door, revealing your oldest brother dressed as Santa Claus, complete with a fluffy white beard and a jolly laugh.
“Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, children!” Allan greeted, drawing candies from his bag and throwing them in the air.
“Ha ha. It’s Santa,” you deadpanned, unamused.
Allan looked at Mingyu and then at you. “Good. You’re both decent. Let’s go open some gifts.”
He then walked away with his Santa laugh, while Mingyu beckoned you to the door. You said you’d wait for him, so he hurried to the bathroom to freshen up and while he was in there, you were scolding yourself for the way things are going. You kept reminding yourself that there is no getting back together, just making your family happy. That conversation with Daphne was a needed wake-up call.
“Are you ready?” Mingyu asked when he stepped out of the bathroom. You nodded and so you went to join your parents together.
Everyone’s gathered in the living room, some of them still yawning and out of it. The kids were excited, jumping around and rushing to Mingyu when they saw you two descending the stairs.
A younger kid, wide-eyed with excitement, piped up, "Your friend is not coming today, Mingyu?"
"Yeah, the Grinch friend!" another kid exclaimed.
“Grinch! Grinch! Grinch!”
You chuckled, knowing exactly who they were referring to. It was from last year when Daniel was Santa and Mingyu decided to come as The Grinch. But instead of ruining Christmas, he spoiled the kids with huge supplies of chocolates and sweets. You can still remember how the moms reacted to that— mad. But since he’s Mingyu, he got away with it.
As the family gathered around the Christmas tree, you all took turns opening presents. Santa, aka Allan, gleefully announced each gift, adding to the festive atmosphere. Then, amidst the wrapping paper and excitement, you heard Santa call out that Mingyu had something for you. You were surprised, considering you had agreed not to exchange gifts this year.
With a sheepish grin, Mingyu handed you a small box. Inside was a delicate necklace, simple yet elegant, just your style. You couldn't help but smile, touched by the gesture.
“Thank you,” you told him, examining the jewelry.
“You’re welcome,” he chimed, his hand pressed in the middle of your back.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” your father prompted after a few seconds. “Put it on her!”
“Yeah!”
For the amusement of your family, Mingyu put the necklace on you himself, his fingers deftly fastening the clasp as everyone watched with amusement. It was small moments of intimacies like this that will convince your family that everything is fine— that Mingyu is a part of you, of them.
The excitement of opening gifts soon subsided, and a long table of breakfast buffet was brought in for those who wanted to eat. While you sat to eat with some of your family members, the others went out to play in the snow. You watched them from the large windows, smiling absent-mindedly as Mingyu, in his element, was building a snowman with your niece while fending off the snowballs being thrown at him by the little boys. He was so good with the kids and they loved him so much for it.
“So, when did you two get back together?” your Aunt Sylvie prompted casually as she sliced through her waffles.
Caught off-guard, you blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I thought you broke up with him?” she asked again and suddenly, the vivid memory of you drunk calling your aunt and wailing about how you broke up with Mingyu flashed in your mind.
You opened your mouth to speak but your other cousin Felicity cut you off. “You guys broke up?”
“What? When?” Blair chimed in, visibly confused.
Aunt Sylvie erupted into laughter, though a hint of awkwardness lingered beneath her merriment. “Sorry, y/n. I got you mixed up with your other cousin. She and Billy parted ways over the summer.”
“Right,” you acknowledged, a wave of relief washing over you as the memory of your tipsy phone call to Aunt Sylvie resurfaced.
“Oh, of course, Auntie Sylvie. Tricia was here with her new boyfriend.”
“Hmm. I know. I thought it was Billy, to be honest. She certainly has a type,” she told Sydney who just giggled.
Sydney's voice rang out with conviction. “There’s no way y/n and Mingyu would break up.”
"Of course." Aunt Sylvie's laughter gradually subsided as the misunderstanding was clarified. “Say, Blair, aren’t you due to give birth this month?”
“No. Seriously,” Sydney interjected, her tone firm. “I know people break up all the time, but y/n and Mingyu are just… different. They’re so in love, it’s actually enviable sometimes.”
“That’s true. They’re so compatible, it’s almost hard to believe such a relationship exists,” your cousin added, her words laced with admiration.
“Guys…” you chimed in, feeling a mix of embarrassment and guilt as all eyes turned to you.
“Have you seen Mingyu? That guy is down bad.”
“Agreed. So bad. He’s in deep,” Sydney chuckled, reminiscing. “Did you know he used to bring her flowers every day when we were in college? Every. Single. Day.”
“He even sang to her once,” Blair teased, shooting you a playful look. “Which was adorable, considering he’s not a singer.”
“Definitely not.”
“So he’s a simp?” one person quipped, prompting laughter from the group.
“But did you see the way he looked at her?” Lena interjected. “I’ve only met the guy this weekend, but I can tell by the way they look at each other.”
“Yeah, we’ve seen it, Len. You should see them when they’re playing or just hanging out by themselves. They are in love.”
“And even when we’re all gathered together, these two always have their own world. It's like they’re here, but they are also in their own separate bubble at the same time.”
“He’s so sweet too. He seemed to know exactly how to make y/n feel confident and pretty and loved… You know what I’m saying?”
“Honestly!” one of your older cousins affirmed. “One time my little girl asked me why her dad and I weren’t as sweet as you guys.”
Felicity snickered. “Yeah. I was there at the time, and when I tell you, I screamed!”
“She’s four, guys. Four. She doesn’t even know that my name is not ‘Mom’,” she added, eliciting laughter from the group.
“Well, my sister said she’ll find herself someone like Mingyu,” Sydney recounted, causing Aunt Sylvie to gasp.
“Rue? She said that?”
“Oh, yeah, she did. You better watch out, y/n. She might come for your man when she finds out how hard it is to find someone remotely close.”
The perception of a "perfect" couple often serves as a beacon of hope for others, a shining example of enduring love in a world filled with uncertainty. People hold onto these ideals, weaving fantasies of their own fairytale romance inspired by the ideal relationship they see before them. But what happens when that illusion is shattered?
If you and Mingyu were their definition of true love, the news of your breakup would undoubtedly come as a shock to those who idolized your relationship. It might even shake the foundation of their belief in lasting love, causing them to question if such a thing truly exists. Will it be your fault if little children like Sabrina’s daughter stop believing in true love?
But the truth is, you and Mingyu were never meant to be seen as perfect or ideal. Like any other couple, you had your flaws and imperfections, but you chose to keep them to yourselves. Your struggles were kept behind closed doors, known only to you and Mingyu as you worked through them together. No one ever witnessed your arguments or disagreements because you believed you must not involve other people in your private business. And perhaps it was this commitment to privacy that led others to believe that your breakup was impossible. But as much as they may have wanted to believe in the fairytale of your love story, the reality is that relationships are complex and sometimes, they don't end happily.
So no, it wouldn't be your fault if people stopped believing in love because of your breakup. Love is not defined by the length of a relationship or the perceived perfection of a couple. It's a journey filled with ups and downs, twists and turns, and sometimes, even endings. And while your breakup may have shattered the illusion of a fairytale romance for some, it doesn't change the fact that what you had was beautiful and the love that they witnessed was true.
Blair’s hand on your arm pulled you out of your musings. With a smile, she said, “I’m not trying to skip ahead or anything, but if you and Mingyu do end up getting married, it will probably be the best match I have ever seen in my entire life.”
“Amen!” Felicity cheered, raising her glass in the air. The others did the same, except you who gazed outside the window where you could see Mingyu.
As if aware that someone was watching him, Mingyu glanced back at you, waving happily when he spotted you.
The festivities continued in your home for the rest of the day, with everyone doing their own thing but in the same room. Kids were running around, and adults were chatting over wine and snacks. You joined your mother at the stairs as she watched the festivities with a fond look on her face.
“Look at them,” she told you when you approached her and wrapped your arms around her waist.
You hummed, looking at your family. “Yeah. They’re so noisy.”
Your mother chuckled heartily, rubbing your back. “But don’t you just love this sight? Everyone is smiling and laughing. Everyone is present to spend Christmas with us.”
“Yeah, well. I guess it’s nice,” you replied, feigning indifference despite understanding her sentiments. Like her, you breathed a contented sigh, watching your family.
“You know, I didn’t grow up with Christmas traditions. Unlike most families, mine didn’t care much for Christmas,” she began, making you glance at her. “Your grandparents divorced when I was little. They would send a gift and a card each year but I knew neither of them picked those for me. It was probably their assistants. There is no way my father would know I liked unicorns,” she laughed heartily.
“That’s terrible. I could never imagine a Christmas that’s different from what we have every year,” you confessed.
“I know. Marrying your father gave me the chance to celebrate something so beautiful with a family who may not be the most perfect but just as special.”
Your eyes were fixed on your father, dancing groovily in the middle of the room to an old tune your uncle had just put on. He pointed at your mother, beckoning her to join him. She did, happily so. Everyone cheered as they danced together, ever-loving and sweet to each other. It was a heartwarming sight, and you realized that if there’s a couple to look up to, it’s your parents—the most compatible pair. She was the calm to his storm, the peace to his chaos. He brought color to her monotonous life. While he spoke impulsively, she grounded him with thoughtful words. While he spoiled you and your siblings, she kept the household in check. They were the perfect balance, each complementing the other. When they said there was a woman behind every successful man, they must have been right.
You watched fondly as everyone cheered for your parents, the other couples eventually joining in. Your eyes met Mingyu’s in the crowd, and he gestured for you to join him on the dance floor. You shook your head briskly. If there’s one thing you’d never do, it’s dancing in front of other people.
“Come on, love!” he called out again.
“No way. I’ll pass. Have fun, though.”
He insisted, and soon your other relatives joined in, urging you to dance. But you stood your ground. When Mingyu started walking towards you, you bolted up the stairs, heading straight for your bedroom. Mingyu was hot on your tail, calling your name playfully while you shrieked. You fumbled with the door, trying to lock it as soon as you got inside, but Mingyu pushed through before you could bolt it shut.
“There is no parallel universe where you can outrun me, baby,” he breathed, pulling you by the waist so you’re flush against him.
“I’d still try, though,” you exclaimed, breathless and laughing, as Mingyu wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around the room. “You never give up, do you?”
“It depends on the fight, honestly,” he confessed, making you stop as you began overthinking again. However before you could form a coherent thought, Mingyu gave you a lift.
It made you laugh, and when your feet touched the floor again, you eased into the moment, staring at Mingyu as you swayed around the room. The music was faint and barely audible, coming all the way from the great hall downstairs. You had always known you were a terrible dancer, but Mingyu was good at it. It was easy to follow his lead, almost as easy as getting lost in the depths of his gaze. You were completely absorbed, totally entranced. How could you not be when he looked at you like his life depended on it?
“You're doing great,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. His hand on your waist guided you gently, and you felt a surge of confidence.
“I know I’m not good, Gyu,” you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to lie.”
"But you’re perfect now," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Just follow me."
With each step, you fell into a rhythm, moving together in a seamless dance. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in until it felt like there was nothing but the two of you, swaying in the quiet of your bedroom and making a memory you probably would never forget.
“You make it easy,” you whispered, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the dance.
Mingyu's smile widened, and he spun you gently, bringing you back into his arms with a flourish. “You make everything better,” he said softly.
The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, he dipped you low, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly. As he brought you back up, your faces were inches apart, his breath warm on your face.
The world around you blurred and the faint music from downstairs became a distant hum. All you could see, all you could feel, was Mingyu. The intensity of his gaze, the way his arms held you so securely, the way his lips hovered just a breath away from yours.
Unable to resist any longer, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft at first, then deepened as the emotion between you surged. The kiss was a blend of longing, unspoken words, and unfulfilled promises, and it felt like coming home. It was like you lost something and only found it now. It felt like you belonged there; like this is the only thing you have and will ever know.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” he said, making you scoff.
“Are you regretting it?”
“No!” he denied, throwing his head back as he laughed. “I just didn’t think you would let me.”
You playfully hit his arm, and he caught your hand, still chuckling. You rested your head on his chest, swaying gently with him. After a moment, Mingyu stopped and took a deep breath.
“So…“ he began, making you look up at him. “Do you wanna… make out or something?“
You laughed incredulously, both embarrassed and amused. “Why are you acting like we’re teenagers?“
“I haven’t really grown much after my teenage years,“ he said, shrugging. “So this has basically been my height since I was eighteen. You know, I was taller than my dad, which was crazy because—“
You cut him off with a kiss, frustrated by his nervous rambling. That's just another reason why he’s so endearing; he becomes a blabbering mess when he's nervous.
“You’re yapping,” you told him after parting from his lips. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.”
Mingyu laughed nervously. “That’s the thing. It’s you… I’m nervous because it’s you.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning. “You think sweet talk will sweep me off my feet?”
He shrugged. “Not really, but I do know how to sweep you off your feet.”
“How?”
Without warning, Mingyu lifted you into his arms, literally sweeping you off your feet, and carried you over to the bed. You both fell onto the mattress, you giggling and him grinning mischievously. He lay next to you, staring at you for a second before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another kiss.
“I’m not nervous anymore,” he boasted, grinning against your lips.
You just laughed, leaning to give him a peck on the lips. As you lay entwined with Mingyu, the winter afternoon light filtered by the curtains cast gentle shadows across the room. His fingers traced delicate patterns down the length of your arm, evoking a shiver of anticipation. His lips crashed into yours again, and this time you welcomed him with vigor; tugging at the back of his neck and grabbing a handful of his hair as he deepened the kiss.
His hand found your waist, squeezing firmly as your tongues melded together in the kiss. You pouted when he pulled away, only to let out a faint moan when his mouth moved to your neck.
“Is this okay?” he asked as he slowly tugged the sleeves off your shoulder and planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin.
“Yes,” you told him, ignoring the screams of protest in your head. “It’s more than okay.”
Mingyu exhaled sharply, your permission making him more ravenous. His mouth scaled your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of your collarbone and shoulder blade. You didn’t even notice that he had stripped you off of your dress until you felt his hand roaming your bare torso.
“Mingyu…” you echoed. In the intimacy of the moment, you realized just how much you had missed his touch, how his every caress seemed to awaken a yearning that you didn’t realize was very strong until now. His lips found yours again in a tender kiss, a silent promise of the passion that lay ahead.
“I’ve missed you, y/n,” he breathed, caressing your cheek. “I was so lost without you.”
You held his gaze, tenderly and lovingly as you reached for his face and leaned to kiss him. “You’ve found me, Gyu. I’m right here.”
He kissed you again, only briefly before he sat up to discard his shirt far across the room. He then hovered over you, his gaze intense as he took in the view of your nakedness before him. Dipping low, he kissed your lips, then your neck, down to your collarbone, and then your chest where your heart is. His gentle hands cupped your clothed bosoms in a firm grasp as his lips moved further down to your belly.
And amidst the whirlwind of sensations, your mind is in a mess knowing that this moment will inevitably lead to something more. You knew all too well the consequences of surrendering to this desire, the inevitable pain that would follow. You should not. You must not. This is the worst that could happen. These thoughts, equipped with detailed explanations, swirled in your head in an attempt to drag you away from the lure of desire.
But in the heat of the moment, you stared into Mingyu’s eyes as he positioned his head between your legs, one finger stroking your moistened underwear. Right then, your rationality fell apart and you ignored its calls. Then again, when have you ever listened to reason?
A gasp escaped your lips as soon as Mingyu’s tongue did what it came to do. His every stroke sent ripples of pleasure throughout your body, numbing your mind. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, moaning and calling out his name. As if he wasn’t already doing too much, Mingyu pushed a finger inside for good measure. You could feel your body twitching as the tease of release neared, and your eyes blurred with too much stimulation.
Please don’t stop, you screamed, but only in your head. Mingyu, however, stopped at that very moment, sitting up on the bed and gazing at your fucked out expression. His grin was menacing, satisfied by the view before him.
“You love that, don’t you?” he lilted, licking his lips cockily. Watching him unbuckle his belt almost made you cry as every fiber of your being begged for him to touch you again, to be one with him in body and soul.
“Mingyu…” you pleaded, not even hiding your desperation. Mingyu hurriedly hovered over you, kissing your forehead and caressing your face.
“Don’t cry, baby,” he said sweetly, kissing your lips and laughing when you chased after it. “I’m right here.”
Mingyu would never make you wait; he could not. He’s weak against your pleas and his fervor is about fifty times more than yours. So he gave you what you both wanted, pushing into you languidly with one movement. You whimpered due to the agonizing pleasure, back arching towards him as your body responded. His thrusts and unrestrained grunts had you spiraling, your nails embedded in his skin as you held onto him for dear life.
Worried you were being too loud, you bit your lip to stifle your moans, giving Mingyu a pleading look as you stared at each other. He smirked at you and stopped moving for a second. Without a warning, he did a sudden, hard, heavy, and deep thrust that had you yelping in bliss.
“Bite your lips again, I dare you.”
You raised an eyebrow, clueless but only momentarily. Breathless and hoarse, you asked, “Why not?”
“I want to hear you.”
Did he really think you disliked his little ‘punishment’ in any way? Feeling mischievous, you challenged him by biting your lips once more, making him ram into you roughly again. You bit back your moans so he did it again. Once more, and twice, until he finally realized that you were doing it on purpose.
Laughing darkly, Mingyu ducked to kiss you, his lips moving to your cheek and then nibbling on your ear before whispering, “You naughty naughty little lady.”
And so you surrendered yourself to him completely, losing yourself in the sweet oblivion of his touch. His hand explored every inch of your body, tracing the outlines of your curves with a gentle touch that left you breathless. Your bodies danced to the rhythm of desire and you cried each other’s names in ecstasy brought by release. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of paradise in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.
You’ve done it, y/n, you told yourself. You’ve passed the point of no return.
You lay nestled against Mingyu, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm wrapped around you securely, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your back. The warmth of his skin against yours was a stark contrast to the cold that loomed beyond the windows, and you sighed contentedly, feeling utterly at peace.
Mingyu shifted slightly, pulling the blanket up to cover you both more snugly. "Are you warm enough?" he asked softly, his voice low and gentle.
You nodded, nuzzling closer to him. "Perfectly warm," you whispered.
He tightened his hold on you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the soft sounds of your breathing. You felt his hand travel up to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands, soothing and calming.
"Do you remember your first Christmas up here? We were sledding all afternoon and got caught in a snowstorm?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips at the memory.
Mingyu chuckled, a deep, warm sound that vibrated through his chest. "Yeah. It snowed hard that time. We had to hide in the cabin across the estate."
You hummed. “It was so cold. And the fireplace wouldn’t work."
"We had to keep each other warm," he added, laughing softly. His eyes met yours, filled with the same warmth and affection you felt. "Best snowstorm ever."
You sighed, closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy the moment. It felt so natural, so right, to be in his arms again.
As the minutes ticked by, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a state of near-sleep. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin against yours—it was all so familiar, yet achingly new. You knew this would end, that reality would creep back in, but for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the moment, to let yourself be wrapped up in him.
“I wish we could stay like this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
“We can, for a little while longer,” Mingyu replied, his voice equally soft. “Let's just enjoy this, okay?”
You nodded, a sense of calm washing over you. “Okay,” you agreed, snuggling closer.
But then your thoughts became too much to contain, one question repeatedly echoing in your head. “What about after this?”
“Hmm?” Mingyu inquired, opening his eyes slightly.
You pulled away from him, moving back a little so you could see his face properly. “What happens after this?”
Mingyu chuckled sleepily, pulling you back into his embrace. “Is that necessary? We’re having lots of fun. Let’s not spoil it with depressing conversations.”
His response stirred something in you—rage. A blind rage that made the veins on your forehead pulse. You exhaled sharply, pulling away again. “Why are we doing this?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
“We came here to fool my family, Gyu. Not for...” you paused, looking at the cozy state of your bed. “...this. Whatever this is!”
You kicked the sheets off your legs and stood up at once, pacing the room as you massaged your aching temples.
“Baby, come on,” Mingyu sang, following after you to pull you into his arms. You let him hug you, pressing your cheek against his chest while he ran his fingers through your hair. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what, Mingyu?” you groaned, pushing him with weakened arms while you tried your best not to sob. “Don’t do what? I don’t even know what we’re doing.”
His grip tightened around you, his voice a soothing whisper. “We’re just living in the moment, taking what we can get. Isn't that enough?”
You shook your head, tears finally spilling over. “No, it’s not. I can’t just pretend this doesn’t mean anything.”
Mingyu sighed, his own expression conflicted. “Babe—”
“Stop calling me that, please!“ you pleaded, crouching down on the floor as you felt your knees give out. You buried your face in your hands, hiding behind your hair as you sobbed. “I knew this was a bad idea. I fucking knew it!“
The room fell silent, the only sound being your sniffling. Your mind was a mess, and your heart throbbed painfully. After some time, you felt Mingyu’s hand on your back, the other on your knee.
“I’m sorry,” Mingyu whispered, his voice barely audible as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m so sorry.”
You lifted your head, meeting his apologetic gaze. “You don’t love me at all, do you?”
“Why would you even say that?”
“Because you wouldn’t be apologizing if you did.”
He uttered your name, the anguish on his face making your heart ache even more. You wished you could read his mind, wished he would open up and let you in on his deepest thoughts about your relationship.
“I love you, y/n... I loved you so much.”
“Then why did we break up?”
“Because it’s what you wanted.”
“You never fought me about it!” you cried, standing up and pacing away from him. You wiped the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You just walked out the door, Mingyu! You left without so much as a fight. It was like you were waiting for it to happen!”
“That’s not true!” he protested, standing up as well, his voice rising in desperation.
“Then why didn’t you say so?“
“Because you wanted it! I was just giving you what you want.” He slumped back on the couch. “You didn’t want me anymore. I knew it, I saw it, I felt it.”
“Can you blame me?” you asked incredulously. “You were too busy, Gyu. You had no time for us!“
“I was a newbie at work. Of course, I was busy,“ he retorted, still in a low voice but you could hear the frustration in his voice. “I was swamped with work, but I made sure to come home to you. I made time for you. I tried my best not to neglect you.“
“You tried, huh? Well, if you really did, I would have noticed it but I didn’t! You were always tired. We could go on not speaking a word to each other for hours. And then out of nowhere, you’ll be in the mood to have sex,“ you scoffed, laughing derisively. “What makes you think you can ignore me all day and I would still open my legs for you when you ask for it?“
Mingyu sighed, shutting his eyes in frustration. “Oh my god, y/n. You stopped having sex with me, did you forget? Even on days when we’re getting along, you never let me touch you. You always had excuses and I respected them. Some of them are ridiculous by the way, but I respected them all the same!”
He was right, but you weren’t ready to give up yet. “Then why did you change so much? You even stopped trying to fix things whenever we fought. You just go to bed and sleep like nothing was wrong!”
“That’s because you kept picking a fight over the smallest things! I can’t keep having all these stupid arguments with you,” Mingyu groaned, gesturing wildly.
“Exactly!” you hollered, exasperated. “That’s exactly the problem. It didn’t matter how small it was before. We always, always made up before the day ended.”
“You mean me?” Mingyu smirked mockingly. “We? There was no ‘we’ when it came to fighting. You never tried to make up, y/n. It was always me. No matter whose fault it was, I was always the first to apologize because you could never lower your goddamned pride!”
“Are you saying—”
“Stop it. Please, just fucking stop!” he snarled, finally losing his patience. His aggression startled you, making you take a few steps back. Mingyu was scowling, his jaw clenched, eyes filled with pain and indignation. He looked away, muttering curses as he ran his hands through his already wild hair.
He let out a big sigh before saying, “You can’t tell me that I didn’t fight because I did! I was there; I never left. Even with the pressure of securing a regular position at work, I tried to be a good partner to you. Even during your unreasonable fits, I stayed. Even when it felt like there was no hope, I fucking stayed! Your decision to break up was the last straw, y/n! It was the last straw! I was…” Mingyu’s voice cracked as he struggled to hold back tears. He tightened his lips and placed his hands on his waist, sighing in frustration as he backed away, trying to calm down. When he glanced back at you, the pained look on his face was still there.
“I was tired, Y/N. I was fucking tired. You had no idea,” he confessed more gently, finally allowing himself to cry. “You had no idea.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. With tired legs, you sank onto the couch opposite the bed, quietly immersing yourself in your thoughts. You gazed out the window to avoid seeing Mingyu, but his faint sobs and deep breaths kept him in your mind.
Before coming to the chateau, you had asked yourself, "What could go wrong?" So far, nothing major has gone wrong, but this trip has unleashed the deep-seated frustrations you and Mingyu had about your relationship. Four years of unresolved issues had surfaced because neither of you was brave enough to address them. You had both been worried about offending each other, of hurting one of you unintentionally or burdening one another with personal problems. Now, you realize that you hadn’t grown apart because your love had wavered. The things you chose to ignore out of consideration, the tiny mistakes you excused—all these issues had grown into an insurmountable wall that caused you to lose touch.
It wasn’t your fault, nor was it his, and you knew that. You had never blamed anyone for the breakup. But it felt so damning to discover that things could have gone differently—that breaking up wasn’t necessary.
You glanced at Mingyu, still sitting with his face in his hands. Standing up, you wiped your cheeks and took a deep breath before walking towards him. You reached for his shoulder, squeezing it firmly to let him know you were there. You were the one who held the knife that stabbed a hole through both of your hearts. You were also the one who pulled it out when you instigated this confrontation. It was only right for you to be the one to stop yourselves from bleeding out.
“I love you,” you murmured, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear.
Mingyu wiped his face with his hand before looking up at you. “What?”
“I love you, Mingyu,” you repeated, starting to sob again. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that—I… I’m so sorry.”
With a gentle tug, Mingyu pulled you into his arms, locking you in a tight hug. You sobbed uncontrollably, gripping his shirt for dear life. He comforted you with soft shushing sounds, rubbing his hand on your back, and planting a few kisses on the side of your head.
“I love you too, baby. I love you so much,” he whispered, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. “God, I love you so much.”
Still wrapped in his embrace, you heard footsteps thundering outside your door, followed by urgent, hurried knocks that made you jump.
“Guys! We gotta go!”
“Did something happen?” you called back, frantically wiping your face, hoping to hide the evidence of your tears. Mingyu, just as flustered, used his shirt to dry his own face. He even helped fix your messed-up hair with his big, panicky hands.
And then you pushed the door open, revealing a shaken Daniel who announced, “Clair’s water just broke.”
You stood outside the nursery, watching your niece behind the big glass window. There is a rush of emotions overwhelming you and it felt like your heart expanded with an intense, almost indescribable love. You gazed at the tiny, delicate features of the baby while Mingyu stood next to you, holding your hand and cooing at the sleeping child.
You can feel a sense of wonder and awe, marveling at the miracle of your niece’s arrival, Alyssa. Everyone thought she was Alfred the whole time. Turns out she was an Alyssa. Your sister said this baby is this year’s plot twist, a Christmas miracle. This was good to know because you had initially thought the plot twist that would shock your entire family was the fact that you and Mingyu were no longer dating.
“I don’t think I would ever have kids,” you told Mingyu on the drive back to the chateau.
He seemed surprised by your admission. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. I don’t see motherhood as something I would be doing in the future. I think the closest I can be to being one is as an aunt. I have enough nieces and nephews anyway.”
“Motherhood seemed like a huge responsibility too,” Mingyu affirmed, smiling.
“It does. I mean, I might change my mind in the future, but right now? No, not for me,” you added, glancing at Mingyu in the driver’s seat. “What about you?”
“Well, I love kids.”
You smiled fondly. “I can see that.”
“Yeah. And I would love to have one of my own in the future. Maybe more.”
Mingyu’s smile lingered, his eyes gleaming at the thought of having his own children. You found yourself drifting into a daydream, imagining a future where the two of you ended up together, married, and living in a home filled with love and happiness. You painted a picture of a beautiful family, mirroring some of your own family values, and traditions. You would spend holidays at the chateau, celebrate your wins as a family, treat each other with respect and consideration. He’d be a loving husband, and you a supportive wife.
Children? Yes, there were children in this picture. But when you thought about yourself, you still couldn’t find the desire to have kids. Maybe you’d change your mind someday; maybe you wouldn’t. The thought of motherhood felt so distant. As much as you adored your nieces and nephews, you couldn’t see yourself stepping into a maternal role. Then again, there is no guarantee that you’d end up marrying Mingyu in the first place. This is all just wishful thinking.
You were pulled out of your daydream by the sound of Mingyu’s phone ringing. Reaching into the compartment, you carefully handed it to him.
“Can you answer it for me?” he asked, keeping his hands on the steering wheel.
The caller ID read ‘Mina,’ accompanied by a photo of the woman you’d seen him meet at a cafe. Your mind raced with questions, but you tapped the answer button and held the phone to his ear.
“Mingyu! Merry Christmas! How are you?” Her voice was bright and melodic.
“I’m well, Mina. Merry Christmas to you too,” Mingyu replied, glancing at you briefly.
“I have some good news!” she exclaimed.
A flicker of hesitation crossed Mingyu’s face. “Uh… Now’s not a good time.”
“Oh, this won’t take long. I just had to share this with you!” she persisted, followed by the sound of shuffling papers. “Welcome to XYZ Corporation!”
The sound of party poppers and Mina’s cheerful laughter filled the car. Mingyu smiled, though he still seemed a bit uneasy.
“That’s amazing. Thank you, Mina,” he said.
“You did great. They’ll email you after the holidays to confirm your employment and discuss your relocation. Just stay tuned for that, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Great. I won’t take up too much of your time then. I’ll see you soon. Happy holidays!”
The car was quiet after that call; painfully quiet. Mingyu is not saying anything, and you’re stuck trying to process the new information you got from that phone call. Even after the car has stopped, neither of you made a move to get off.
“Babe,” Mingyu prompted, reaching for your hand that was sitting on your lap.
“What was that?” was the first thing you asked.
“It was Mina Choi. She works at XYZ.”
“No. Not her,” you insisted, shaking your head. “XYZ Corporation? That’s in Seoul, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“And you’re gonna be working there?”
Mingyu took a deep breath before responding. “Not yet. I got recruited last month so I applied and apparently, I got the job.”
“Oh,” you blurted, feeling lost so you just stared at your lap. “That’s great. XYZ is a big company. I’ve heard of them.”
He smiled contently, sighing. “Yeah, it is. I got a full contract too.”
“So you’re moving back to Korea?”
Mingyu’s silence spoke volumes. You let out a deep sigh, trying to muster a supportive smile, even though your heart felt heavy. “Congratulations, Gyu.”
“Baby—”
You pushed the car door open and walked briskly towards the chateau. You walked faster, almost running, eager to reach your bedroom as soon as possible and hide. But Mingyu was following closely behind, chasing you quietly. You passed by the halls, eyes blurring as your mind raced faster. You passed by your family members gathered at the great hall, their attentions immediately pointing at you the moment you walked in.
“Oh, you’re back! How’s Blair?” Sydney asked but you ignored her, going straight up the staircase without looking back, your heavy and urgent footsteps echoing through the entire hall.
Mingyu answered for you, his voice calm despite the tension. “Blair is doing great, Syd. They’ll be home in the morning.”
Your bedroom was quiet and cozy, and you could see the evidences of the warmth that engulfed this entire space just a few hours ago. Realizing that you’re about to lose it for the second time, your chest tightened with heartache while you ignored the stinging on your eyelids. Mingyu arrived sooner, shutting the door gently behind him.
You spun around to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Mingyu took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t want to ruin our weekend.”
“Ruin it? Mingyu, you’re leaving for Seoul! How is that not a big deal?” you said, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sorrow.
“Baby, let’s calm down for a second, alright,” he replied softly, reaching to hold your shoulders.
His gentle squeezes and the comforting look in his eyes steadied your heartbeat. You let him lock you in his embrace as you swallowed the lump in your throat.
“I didn’t hear from them for a while so I didn’t think I’d get the job,” he confessed as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. “I only found out today.”
“But we’ve only just got back together,” you moped, sobbing against his shirt.
“I know. It sucks for me too.”
You couldn’t even begin to describe how much you regret everything. Instead of breaking up, you should have just tried to fix things. You should have just talked about it. That way, you wouldn’t have lost those last few weeks with him. You would have made the most out of your time together. Now, it feels like you’re right back where you started, but worse.
Mingyu lifted your chin, the pain on his face evident upon seeing the tears streaming down your face. "I’m so sorry.”
Even if you wanted him to, Mingyu would never offer to stay. He would never pass up such a big career opportunity, and you wouldn’t have the heart to ask him to give it up. He had studied hard for years and worked tirelessly to deserve the opportunities that are coming his way. Not to mention this will be his chance to return home after being away for so long. You couldn’t take that from him; you wouldn’t be the one to hold him back.
“I’m genuinely happy for you, Mingyu. Really, I am. But this all just feels so… unfair.”
“I know,” he whispered, his own tears finally falling. “I know, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
As you stood there, your mind raced through all the moments you'd shared. The laughter, the intimate conversations, the quiet moments of simply being together. All of it seemed so cruelly short-lived now, overshadowed by the inevitable. Despite your newly rediscovered love, you knew you weren’t prepared to move across the world for someone you weren’t sure you’d end up marrying. The internal conflict weighed heavily on you, a mix of pride for his achievements and sadness for the distance that would soon separate you.
Your thoughts wandered to the future, a future you had briefly allowed yourself to imagine with him. A home filled with love and happiness, the possibility of children, growing old together. It all seemed like a beautiful dream that was slipping away. It’s probably for the best. The picture you tried to paint was blurry anyway, so maybe it wasn’t meant to be.
Silence enveloped the room as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Mingyu spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, y/n.”
You looked up at him, your heart breaking all over again. “I love you too, Gyu.”
He took a deep breath, hesitating before gently cupping your face in his hands. “We’ll figure it out. Somehow, we will.”
“I know.”
As you watched Mingyu kiss your forehead, lingering for a moment as if trying to memorize the feel of you, your mind screamed at the unfairness of it all. You wondered how many more times you’d have to say goodbye to someone you loved, and how many more pieces your heart could break into before it was beyond repair.
On Tuesday morning, you drove out of the chateau after saying goodbye to your family. In the end, you never got to fulfill the deal you made with Mingyu which was to tell everyone the truth before you head back to the city. You felt that it would be unnecessary; you got back together after all.
The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, occasional glances, and small smiles. You slept most of the ride like you always did. Then you spent the next few days with Mingyu, doing everything and anything together. You went on dates to your favorite spots—the little café where you had your first date, the park where you spent lazy afternoons, and all the places you loved to go to that he wouldn’t be able to see for a long time. Each outing was a surge of nostalgia and making new memories.
He also moved out of his apartment early to spend his last week with you, so not only did you see him every day, but you were with him every second of the day. Two days before his departure, you headed up to the chateau so he could say goodbye to everyone properly. Then you held a small party with your closest friends to celebrate a milestone in Mingyu’s career and wish him good luck.
It was needless to say neither of you held yourselves back, especially when it came to your desires. You lost more than a month together, and it would stretch back far longer if one were to consider the time when your relationship was rocky. You had a lot of conversations with Mingyu, opening up to each other more than you’ve ever done in the last four years together. He told you about his aspirations, and you told him about your plans from here on out.
“I really wish we could have more time,” he told you while you lay in your bed, warm and cozy under the sheets. Your bodies were flushed against each other, and you could tell you still smelled like him.
“Me too,” you confessed, nuzzling on his chest like you’re not already glued to him. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.”
Mingyu sighed heavily. “That’s okay. If it’s ours, it will find its way back to us.”
You chuckled, propping yourself so you could frown at him. “That’s just another way of saying: if it’s meant to be, it will be.”
“I know,” he grinned and then kissed the tip of your nose.
“You’re silly.”
You spent the past days laughing and making each other happy. Neither of you has shown any sadness or shed a tear for the inevitable, although that did not mean it wasn’t sad. It was painful, but it was a familiar kind of pain, one you had been bracing yourself for since the moment he received that phone call from Mina. Yet, no amount of preparation could fully shield you from the reality of that moment.
There was a raw, undeniable hurt in knowing that someone you loved so deeply was leaving. The countless memories you had built together played like a silent movie in your mind—each scene was a reminder of what you were about to lose. Your laughter, the quiet moments of comfort, the shared dreams, and even the setbacks that made you stronger—all of it now leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth.
“You know, this is the warmest bed I’ve ever known,” you confessed, laying back down.
“Like, literally or?”
You giggled, closing your eyes as you melted into his warmth. “You made it warm.”
“Well, you did give me a bed to lie on. I did my best to make it warm.”
You opened your eyes and scowled, confused. “Like, literally?”
“No,” he laughed, his chest vibrating. And the night stretched on with more of your laughter and conversations.
The morning of Mingyu’s departure arrived too quickly. You both sat in the living room, your head on his chest while he hugged you tightly. Neither of you was speaking, just quietly passing the time in each other’s arms. His suitcase was by the door, and every tick of the clock seemed louder than usual.
“Are you ready to go?” Mingyu asked gently, his eyes searching yours.
You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I said I’m not going.”
“I know. I was just trying to see if you changed your mind,” he chimed, his thumb rubbing your shoulder.
You buried your face in his chest and tightened your arms around his torso. “I don’t like it. It’s too sad.”
He hummed in understanding. “I get it. It’s hard for me too.” He stood up and hugged you tightly, his warmth enveloping you. “I’ll call you as soon as I land, okay?”
You nodded against his chest, feeling the tears welling up. “Okay.”
Mingyu kissed the top of your head, holding you for a few more seconds before pulling away. “Take care of yourself,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
“You too,” you replied, watching as he picked up his suitcase and walked out the door. The sound of the door closing felt like a heartbreaking note.
For a few minutes, you stood there in the deafening silence, your heart aching with the weight of the goodbye. The thought of not seeing him off began to gnaw at you, each moment passing making you feel worse. You knew that if you didn’t go, you would regret it forever.
Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grabbed your phone and ran out the door, not bothering to lock it behind you.
“Taxi!” you yelled at the first taxi you saw on the street, your hand flapping wildly in the air as you beckoned for it. “Airport. And please be quick!”
The traffic was mercifully light, but every red light felt like an eternity. You tapped your fingers nervously on your knee, willing the lights to change faster.
“Late for a flight?” the taxi driver asked but you were too immersed in your thoughts to hear it clearly.
“Sorry?” you asked stupidly.
“No luggage,” he noted. “Chasing a lover, I see.”
You chuckled nervously, eyes darting from the driver to the red light flashing up ahead. “Does it happen a lot?”
“No, not really. It’s rarer than you would expect,” the man replied spiritedly. “And it’s beautiful each time you see one.”
He didn’t chat much, and it was like he could also feel the urgency of your situation because as soon as he could, he sped through the highways and assured you that everything would be alright. When you finally reached the airport, you hastily paid your fare and ran towards the terminal, your heart pounding in your chest.
You scanned the crowds frantically, hoping you weren’t too late. Then, you spotted him at the security checkpoint, just about to hand over his boarding pass.
"Kim Mingyu!" you shouted, your voice echoing in the bustling terminal.
He turned around, eyes wide with surprise. You pushed through the crowd, running up to him while waving your hand. Mingyu left the queue immediately, meeting you halfway. When you reached him, you were breathless, both from the run and the emotions. He didn’t waste any time and pulled you into a tight embrace.
When you parted, you laughed shyly, not looking him in the eyes out of embarrassment.
“Wow, I almost didn’t catch you,” you told him, looking at the queue of people boarding the gate.
Mingyu’s expression was soft and loving as he tucked a few strands of your hair to the back of your ear. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Yeah. I’m so glad I did,” you chuckled, moving closer to hug him again. You stared at his face, trying to memorize it before he leaves and your vision of him becomes limited to a phone’s screen only.
“I thought you don’t like it?” he asked, arms wrapped around your waist and enjoying the way you were staring at him with loving eyes.
“I don’t,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “But I’ll make an exception for you.”
“Just tell me you’re gonna miss me and be done with it.”
“I’m gonna miss you, Mingyu.”
Mingyu laughed heartily, pleasantly surprised by your admission. “See. How hard was that?”
“Not hard at all because it’s true,” you shrugged.
He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I’m gonna miss you too, baby. A lot.”
“You better,” you said nonchalantly, masking the yearning in your heart. “I love you, okay?”
He nodded. “I love you.”
The announcement for his flight boarding echoed through the terminal, and Mingyu sighed, knowing it was time to go. He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and emotion into that one kiss. Then he pulled you into a tight embrace again, neither of you wanting to let go.
“Take care of yourself,” he murmured into your hair.
“You too,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t help it. When Mingyu saw that, you recognized the slight flicker of hesitation on his face. “Go, before I change my mind and chain you to my bedpost.”
“See you soon, y/n.”
“See you soon, Mingyu.”
With one last kiss, he turned and walked towards the gate, pausing to look back at you one more time. You watched as he disappeared from sight, a mix of sadness and hope filling your heart. You took a deep breath, letting the cool air of the terminal fill your lungs. As you exhaled, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You can’t control the future, but you can choose how to face it.
Acceptance was not about letting go of the pain but about understanding that it was part of the journey. You allowed yourself to feel every emotion, knowing that it was okay to hurt, okay to miss him, and okay to hope for a future where your paths would cross again.
Days passed in the blink of an eye. You got busy working on the establishment of your interior design office. You haven’t even officially established your office yet but inquiries are already pouring in thanks to your work on Daphne’s boutique. Sure, you had help from your trust fund and your first investor was your father, but why would you shy away from the privilege you were born with when you can flourish with it?
“Ma'am, where do you want this couch to be?” asked the helpers as they hauled a long couch into the office space.
“Over there by that corner, please. And the rest of it will be placed there too,” you instructed just as you were fishing your phone from your bag.
You opened the message from Mingyu and saw that he had sent you a picture. It was of him and an abstract painting hanging on the wall of his Seoul apartment– the one you sent him a few days ago.
MG: Rate my interior design capability.
you: 7/10. Nice spot but it’s upside down, Mr Kim.
MG: LOL okay will fix it when i get back. i'm at work now. i miss you! xx
A smile crept up your lips as you typed a reply.
you: Miss you! Good luck!
Not everyone has to end up with the greatest love of their life. But you do wish you would end up with yours— that somehow, despite the massive population of the earth, Mingyu is your greatest love; your end game. Maybe he is, or perhaps he’s not. Who knows? Right now, you're both content living your days, doing what makes you happy. You no longer ache for him too much, although you miss him a lot every day. You were pretty convinced that you missed it only because you were used to it. Then again, who knows for sure?
As you set your phone down, you felt hopeful and optimistic. Your story with Mingyu wasn’t over; it was simply evolving. And in that evolution, you found strength, hope, and a future full of possibilities.
[fin]
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The Crucible [Hotch x Reader]
Photo credits: Left (@roting) Center (@dudeitiskarev) Right (@moodboard-d)
Prompt: Aaron finds himself alone with a homegrown terrorist group whose leader he put away a year ago. He gets beaten, shot, and dumped in the woods where the reader finds him and attempts to keep him alive long enough for the paramedics to get to him.
Pairing: Aaron x Non-BAU!reader, gender-neutral!reader. The reader uses they/them pronouns
Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending]
Word Count: 14.9K
Content Warnings: Food is mentioned, alcohol is consumed, there is a hate group [the bad guys], severe beating [glass broken on a body, unwanted touch, forced drinking, punching, hitting, groping (Aaron)], shooting [Aaron], death by gunshot [a bad guy], gore, mention of past abuse [Aaron], arguing, near death, hospitals, deep concern and coping mechanisms, language. If I missed any, please let me know.
A/N: Hi all! It has been a while, but I am back now thanks to the end of the semester. I hope you are all doing very well! As always, I return with a novel of a Hotch story. I’ve had this idea for months now, and I am happy with how it turned out. I do want to encourage you to read the Content Warnings as this is angsty (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see a part two, let me know. I have many fluffy ideas for Aaron too, and those are coming, pinky promise. I am so happy to be writing again and hope to do a lot of it during the summer. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️
P.S. Special shoutout to @criminalskies for sharing emergency medicine with me for this fic! If I got things wrong, I'm sorry pookie.
List with all stories
y/n = your name
_c/t_ = coffee or tea
y/l/n = your last name
y/a = your age
Aaron drove down the lonely highway. He’d passed briefly through Shenandoah National Park. The peacefulness of the trees had calmed his mind for the hour that he was in the park, but as he got back onto the main road, the conversation that was bothering him started to edge its way back into his consciousness. Hotch wanted to close his eyes and potentially scream, but he settled for rubbing his hand angrily over his brow and then his eye bags that seemed to get heavier each day.
Sean had reached out last week saying that he was going to be in New York meeting someone and had asked if his older brother had wanted to get a drink and catch up. To Hotch, this was last-minute planning according to him and his packed schedule. But he’d managed to drag himself out of bed and on the road on Saturday morning. When he got into the city, he and Sean met up at a swanky restaurant that suited Aaron’s taste a bit more than Sean’s. That at least he had to give his little brother credit for.
In their adult lives, the Hotchner brothers had never seen eye to eye. It had only gotten worse when their mom had passed leaving the last real reason for them to be civil behind. Not that they were outwardly hostile, at least they hadn’t been until this afternoon, just that Aaron carried a lot of guilt and Sean had never seen to be able to step past his anger about what life had thrown at him. Neither could be blamed for their responses. But when Aaron arrived at the restaurant, Sean moved forward and shook his hand, and even gave him a hug with his other hand. Hotch returned the hug, realizing just how many years it had been since Sean and he had seen each other.
They pulled back and looked at each other for a moment before moving inside and being seated. They both decided to just have a drink. Aaron got a mezcal mule and Sean opted for a margarita on the rocks. They both did a bit of catching up on their first drink, but things started to get rocky when Sean said, “So, I’m seeing someone new. Her name is Jennifer and she’s got three kids from a past relationship. I’m going to visit her and her family over the weekend. If things look good I’m thinking of moving from Nashville. Or I’ll invite her to move down with me.” Hearing this, Hotch took a sharp breath in. Sean had always been impulsive, but this was a lot, even for him. Aaron had hoped that with time, his brother would have grown out of this lifestyle.
Hotch furrowed his brow and asked, “How long have you known her?” Sean sipped his drink but didn’t love Aaron’s tone. He replied a bit defensively, “A month and a half, but I don’t see why that’s a big deal. I’m just feeling it out, Aaron.” Hotch couldn’t help but scoff and say, “It sounds like a bit more than that.” Aaron’s reply only solidified Sean’s defensive nature, and he replied hotly, “Well what do you mean by that? You don’t even know Jennifer.” Aaron took a steadying breath. He didn’t want to come off as creating a narrative, or not trusting Sean, but Aaron had seen the same thing play out with his brother again and again, and each time Sean got hurt. Hotch looked at Sean and said, “I shouldn’t have said it like that. But what I’m trying to say is that you jump into things. You and I have both seen it before. You say that I don’t know Jennifer well, but from what I’m hearing I don’t know if you know her that well either, and you’re already talking about you or her moving across the country. Does that sound logical or well throughout to you?”
Sean was already heated. Something about Aaron’s attitude made him feel judged. His older, well-put-together brother always had something to say about his life. Sean set down his empty glass and said, “Well maybe you’d know more about me and my life if you called me sometimes. Or unlocked yourself from the chain connecting you to your desk and came down and saw me sometimes.” Aaron sighed and tried to defend himself even though he knew Sean was right saying, “Sean, I have Jack. And my work doesn’t just let me have off time like yours does. Plane tickets go both ways. And you never answered my question.”
Aaron pinched the bridge of this nose. He just once wanted Sean to think through his actions. Sean responded, “You’ve always thought you were better than me. And I think you really stopped caring about me when Mom died. But let’s be honest, you stopped caring when dad passed.” The mention of their family so quickly broke Hotch’s facade of composure and he said, “Don’t bring family into this Sean. You know I don’t talk about that. I care about you and I want you to make good choices.” Sean let out a sharp breath and said, “You don’t talk about it because you refuse to admit how fucked up it left you emotionally, Aaron. At least I can connect with women. And don’t start acting like dad on me now.” Sean’s latest comment landed like a slap on the face to Aaron and he said, “You better not be comparing me to him, Sean. You had better not be doing that right now.” After all the beatings Aaron had taken for his mom and for Sean who always seemed to be getting into trouble during his younger years, the comparison made Aaron feel sick. Before Aaron had a chance to reply or defend himself for making a comment he already regretted, Sean continued, “And I don’t think you're qualified to comment on my relationships or how I’ve hurt people before. Haley dumped you and then died because of you. So I can think of at least one woman who’s been treated worse because of a Hotchner and it wasn’t me.”
What Sean said made Aaron see red for a second. He stood, towering over Sean who was still sitting. It was one thing to have Sean bring up their parents, it was one thing to call him a workaholic and be emotionally unavailable. He knew these faults already. It didn’t really hurt him to hear them again, but the comment about Haley ate at him like acid on flesh. He had tried. He had tried so hard with Haley. He had loved her. He’d loved her with everything there was in him, and yes, it wasn’t enough, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love her. That her brutal death hadn’t torn him open sinew by sinew. Aaron felt his heart pumping in his ears. He was biting his tongue so hard that he tasted iron in his mouth. His fingernails dug into the calloused skin of his palms. If Sean was anyone else but his family, he would hit him. However, after all the abuse Aaron had seen, he made a promise to himself that he would never be violent with his family. It took everything in Hotch to uphold that promise. When Aaron came back to his senses, he realized he was standing. It was a good thing as Aaron grabbed his jacket and moved away from the table. He looked at Sean like he didn’t know him as he said, “Don’t ever call me again,” and walked out the door.
The first hour of the drive back to Quantico was filled with a silence so oppressive that Aaron felt it weighing him down like an iron vest. The next hour all Aaron could think about was what Sean had said, and how he had responded. It wasn’t a good feeling. The way he’d ended things, but he wasn’t sure what else he would or could have done at such a cruel statement. If Sean could say something like that to him, to his face, then he felt justified with his final words of their conversation, even if Aaron had seen shame slowly creep up Sean’s face as he realized what he’d said. What Aaron ended up feeling for the rest of the hour was grief. Grief not only for missing Haley but for what felt like a death in his and Sean’s relationship.
Hotch would have liked to drive all the way home, get another stiff drink, take a hot shower, and sleep, but the fact that he had a drink and it was still a long way off from home made that an impossibility. Aaron checked his gas tank. He did need a top-up and he hadn’t seen a station for miles, however, he approached what looked like a small bar nestled in the middle of nowhere. He slowed slightly and looked at the exterior of the old wooden building with a wrap-around porch. The Coors Light and Miller Light neon signs fighting to be seen in the bright daylight gave away that it was a bar and not some old building with a few cars parked outside. Hotch knew he needed a bathroom and this was going to have to do. It would be in and out. He’d grab a beer so he didn’t look like he was just there to relieve himself; even if that was the case.
Aaron pulled into the parking lot. His hands tapped the wheel restlessly as he picked one of the many empty spaces. Something in his gut felt off, but he blamed it on the argument. As good as he was with dealing with stress, this was different. Hotch dropped his head for a second and tried to get his bearings. When he’d taken a deep breath, he raised his head and unbuckled his seatbelt, opened his door, and swung his feet out onto the gravel of the parking lot. The stones crunched under his tread. Hotch stepped up the three stairs onto the wooden porch. He could tell the building had seen much better days. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was rot in the wooden beams that smelled of pine sap. Hotch opened the door which creaked on rusty hinges, as soon as he stepped into the dim, ill-lit room, Aaron knew that he had made a mistake. There there were five patrons and the bartender scattered around the small space. Three of the big burly men were sitting at the bar, and before they turned around to look at who had entered their space, Hotch could see the symbols of hate on their leather vests The antiquated flag of the South that rested above the bar solidified that this was the hangout for a very particular group of people. If he could, Aaron would have walked right back out the door. Even his more casual slacks and button-down were a far departure from the denim jeans, stained baseball caps, and leather, but it was too late, the men sitting at the bar had turned in their seats and eyed him suspiciously.
It was too late to turn around now and just walk out the door. It would look strange and there was something inside gnawing of him to investigate this space further. Call the FBI with evidence of the type of activity happening here. Not only that, but his bladder protested as well. He quickly cleared his throat and moved into the space and toward the restroom sign on the far wall. He strode with a false confidence toward the bathroom, the men turned back to their conversation but with lower voices. After Aaron relieved himself, he moved from the poorly lit room that smelled like piss. He rinsed off his hands and realized that there weren’t any paper towels, so he opted to wipe his damp palms and fingers on his pants. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do.
Moving back into the bar, Aaron stepped up to the wooden countertop next to one of the men who continued to eye him with distaste. The man behind the bar turned his gaze at the tall, broody man standing in front of him, sizing Aaron up. After an awkward moment, the barkeep asked, “What can I get you?” It was clear from the way everyone was acting that he was not welcome here. At this point, Hotch didn’t want to be here either. After letting out a low breath, Hotch replied steadily, “Just a Budlight.” The bartender nodded and grabbed a clean glass from the cups stacked up on the back side of the bar. He moved to the draft beers and filled the glass to the brim, the frothy head spilling just the smallest bit over. The man didn’t bother wiping the side of the glass dry as he added a lime to the rim. As the red-faced man sat the glass down in front of Aaron he said, “That’ll be five dollars.” Hotch nodded and pulled out his wallet. He made sure to keep his FBI ID hidden as he pulled out a ten-dollar bill. Aaron’s eye flicked up the flag on the wall, and he regretted giving this place any money. But he’d just drink his beer as fast as he could without it looking conspicuous and then get the hell out of there. He handed the man the cash who grunted and pulled out a slightly wet five-dollar bill from the tip jar. Hotch took a few sips from the drink trying to drain the glass as quickly as possible. There was no chance of taking a picture without it being obvious, but he’d call the FBI as soon as he was back in his car. In fact, as soon as he was out the door. As he was drinking, one of the men from the tables near the window moved to the bar next to Hotch.
“Another Coors Steve.” The man who had just ordered was so close to Hotch that he could smell his sweat and very clearly see his hateful tattoo. The fact that the man had that visible in this place only solidified that Aaron would never take this road again. This place seemed more than just a spot for the locals to hang out and chat over a cheap beer. Hotch was halfway through his beer and making good time when the door opened again. Aaron couldn’t help like the rest of the patrons to turn his head slightly at the entryway. Hotch felt his stomach clench as he saw who was walking in the door. All other thoughts left his mind, and his work side kicked in. Aaron knew the man walking in the door well. He’d arrested him one year ago for a litany of hate crimes. The memory of the two young men who had been killed by the man stepping up to the bar with a familiar smile made Aaron’s stomach turn. Roman Invictus LeBrant, formerly Hayden Jude LeBrant before he fell down the alt-right pipeline and joined a hate group was a hard person to forget.
Roman noticed Aaron too. He was the man who had put him away for a year and two months of hell. Half of his time in prison had been spent in isolation for his protection as he kept picking fights with the inmates. Thanks to the fact that Roman had no spine and didn’t want to spend any time in jail, he had ratted out all of his co-conspirators and so-called ‘friends.’ Due to this, he had gotten off with a lighter sentence. The very sight of Agent Hotchner shot a bolt of rage through him. Roman’s face broke into a malicious smile. This time the tall and sauve FBI agent was on his turf, with his people. He didn’t have all of his friends to back him up. The man moved up to the bar with confidence. Everyone in the room's attitude shifted as their chosen leader entered their space. The man sitting next to Aaron quickly got up and made room for the man. Everyone also stood at the sheer presence of the man that they so revered. He stepped between Aaron and his friend. Roman looked at Steve and then to his left saying, “Steve, Dan. How are you motherfuckers?” The felon was so close to Aaron that he was brushing his thigh. The lack of personal space was meant to disturb Hotch, but it wasn’t working. Aaron had set down his glass, his eyes facing forward with a determined gaze. The fact was, as quickly as Roman had gotten out of prison, he had began his normal campaign of terror again. After that the man had made himself very hard to find, and to the top of the FBI’s most wanted list. So Hotch had a responsibility to make sure Roman got put back where he belonged. Unfortunately, Aaron couldn’t just whip you his phone and get the FBI here in an instant, and Roman knew this and was enjoying it.
The bartender could sense the tension between Hotch and his friend but chose not to speak. Roman looked straight ahead as well saying, “Hotchner.” Aaron replied, “LeBrant” in greeting. Aaron could feel his gut clench with worry. There was little he could do right now. Roman had come in the front door and was well aware that he was alone, so Hotch was left with not much more than his wits. He had his small pistol on his left ankle, but reaching for that would do little good as everyone in the bar was probably armed. Roman finally addressed the bartender saying, “Steve, I’ll take a shot of whiskey and one for my agent friend too.” At the word agent, the whole room's attitude shifted again. It was tense before, but now that they knew a fed was in their midst, the tension turned to simmering anger and fear.
Aaron knew that there wasn’t much worse than to be in a room full of people like LeBrant who were angry and afraid. Steve let out a chuckle and poured two generous double shots and placed one in front of Aaron and one in front of LeBrant. Aaron wearily looked at the drink and Roman took him with a single swig before turning to Hotch for the first time saying, “Aaron, I don’t think that drink is poisoned as I just had one myself, so drink up. I think you’re going to need it for what’s coming next.” Aaron met Roman’s hateful gaze, raised his shot glass, and said sarcastically, “To your health,” before downing the shot. The dark liquor burned down his throat and he stopped himself from coughing. As Hotch kept his face straight LeBrant asked, “So, have you liked my recent work? I’d think this is a sting operation on the FBI’s part, but you’re looking pretty alone from where you’re sitting right now.” The large man’s words were true as the group of men in the bar had all slowly started surrounding Aaron and cutting off any escape plans he might try and make.
Aaron was racking his brains for a way out of this situation but the repetition of the question, “Didn’t you like my stunt at that church, Agent? Didn’t it get your blood flowing? It certainly had me, excited.” Hotch cringed at the implication and replied, “I find little to be excited about to send a sixteen-year-old suicide bomber into a church filled with people, mostly women and children.” Roman scoffed and nodded at Steve for a beer bottle. Aaron shifted in his chair slightly which had an impact as everyone, including Steve, pulled guns on him. Everyone, except LeBrant that was. He was the king of his castle and he knew he would be protected no matter what. Roman raised his hands and said, “Easy boys. Take it easy. We don’t want things to get messy, just yet at least.” Hotch swallowed thickly and Roman grabbed the bottle off of the bar, looking at the label before quickly whipping it above his head and over the back of Aaron’s skull.
The sound and feeling of the ice-cold beer and the shards of glass colliding with Hotch’s head was so intense that it knocked him off his chair. Aaron took in a sharp breath as he closed his eyes as the alcohol streamed down his head and wetted his hair and the collar of his shirt. Closing his eyes didn’t help Aaron much with keeping a handle on the situation as he leaned heavily forward against the bar before being wrenched back by serval hands on his body to the center of the room.
Aaron stumbled as he was led away from any support. He could hear a few low laughs at his condition but was more worried about what was going to happen next. Hotch opened his eyes to see the floor swimming in front of his eyes. Before he could even get his feet under him, a knee met painfully with his groin. The pain of the glass tearing open his scalp and the feeling of warm blood flowing from his head was surpassed by the acute pain emanating from his nether regions up his body. Aaron grunted with pain and screwed his eyes shut again. The hot, large hands fondling a sensitive area of Hotch’s body had him open his eyes again.
He wasn’t surprised that it was Roman doing the fondling, thankfully at this point over his clothes. LeBrant spat in Aaron’s face as they made eye contact and Roman’s hand slowed as he said, “How do you like that Hotchner? How does it make you feel?” Aaron’s gaze hardened and he refused to reply to LeBrant’s taunts and demeaning actions. The gruff man gave Aaron’s groin a hard squeeze before stepping back. Hotch had just started to catch his bearings, when he realized he was being supported on either side of his body by two men with the rest of the gang stepping in front of him. His eye caught that his only gun had been taken. Roman, like a shark circling a bleeding victim in the ocean, hoping to get some sort of fearful response. When the man didn’t get one he snarled and pulled out a jack-knife and moved back to Aaron’s face flashing the point of the blade dangerously close to his skin. Still, Hotch didn’t flinch and Roman flicked the knife over Hotch’s cheek drawing fresh blood apart from the red liquid slowly causing Aaron’s vision to be disabled. Hotch naturally pulled back and Roman laughed before saying, “How would you like me to blind you, Aaron? Or cut off one of your ears. Do you think the FBI will still want you after that?” Aaron couldn’t stop himself from coughing out in pain as the men holding him tightened their grips on his forearms.
Roman was happy with his enemy's position, as bloody drool slipped from his mouth and onto the floor of the bar. LeBrant stepped back and stated, “Boys, if you want to have some fun you can. You can blame Agent Hotchner for locking me up for a few years, so why don’t you pay him back in kind? Now, no serious boldly harm, and not too much blood. You’ll have to clean this shit hole up after the mess you make of him, but enjoy for a bit.” Hotch raised his head to look at Roman defiantly, hoping to show that he still wasn’t afraid. Whatever he had planned for him, he still didn’t regret putting him away, and putting him away again. LeBrant met Aaron’s stern brown eyes and sat back at the bar, grabbing another drink like nothing was happening. The man said over his shoulder as the real beating began, “You’re welcome for the whiskey, Hotchner.”
LeBrant managed to down two more beers while watching and listening with a sick satisfaction to Aaron as he got punched, spat on, had drinks splashed in his face, and forced down his throat. Hotch gaged as another bottle was cast aside and hit the wall with the sound of shattered glass. He was beyond the point of silence as he took blow after blow to his face and torso. Aaron was sure his nose was broken as he took another hit to the face and his nose radiated pain through his nasal bridge and up his skull. He grunted in pain as his ribs got another beating. If pulverizing him to death was the plan, then the men surrounding him were doing a good job at that. However, what these bruisers weren’t very good at, and apparently Roman wasn’t good at noticing either, was that Aaron’s DNA was getting spread everywhere in the room from his saliva on the shattered beer bottles, or his blood dripping on the floor, or his hair which had been harshly pulled to jerk his head up. That was the thing about groups like these, they loved to act tough and strong, but their brains weren’t aways fully used. People like LeBrant could use others as a shield, but no matter what happened, it was going to be hard to get rid of every trace Aaron would leave in the space.
Hotch’s hold on consciousness was becoming harder, but he managed to notice when the front door opened again. Aaron had hoped it would be someone who was an outsider like him, someone who didn’t belong here. But the normalcy of seeing a man being beaten told Aaron the new man was part of the group. Hotch’s neck hurt as he made eye contact with the man. He had sandy blond hair and clear grey eyes. The look of surprise and innocence quickly left the young man’s face before anger and hatred took over. Aaron dropped his head not sure what was happening but unable to support his own head. Because of this, he didn’t fully understand why the arms that were holding him up suddenly slacked and there was a heavy scuffle of feet as the floor came dangerously close. Before he could reach the ground there was shouting and then a loud popping sound that Aaron realized was a bullet once he felt a searing hot pain tear through his side whipping his body back and to the ground. The pain was worse than anything Aaron had already felt before now. The pain was so bad that he struggled to get oxygen in and his vision went black for a few seconds before he took a huge choking gulp of air in which only blinded him with more pain.
While Hotch was writhing on the ground trying to get a grasp of what had happened and not blacking out, the older, more seasoned members of Roman’s gang stood for a brief moment of silence, as the men realized what had happened before an uproar started. They dropped their victim and rushed to the newest person in the bar throwing the gun from his hand. Roman stumbled out of his chair, face turning red with rage as he took a breath and shouted at the top of his lungs, “What the fucking hell are you doing Davies? What the mother fucking hell!” Spittle flew from his mouth and Davies, the newest, and youngest recruit to LeBrants' cause swallowed nervously. He hadn’t expected this response. He thought he’d get praise for his actions as he was always told to take bigger steps and take risks for the cause. Greg, one of the senior circles slapped Davies in the face and said, “Roman’s talking to you. Answer him.” Davies stuttered as he said, “That’s the guy that put you away. I thought that I should put him where he belonged. Hanged from a noose or underground. I ain’t got no rope, so I shot the fucker.” Davies was all in and zealous for the group's beliefs and in his case. Roman bowed his head and muttered “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” under his breath.
LeBrant came back to the moment when Aaron let out a soft whimper and placed his hand over his stomach where blood was pooling dangerously fast beneath him and onto the ground. Even in his agonizing state, Aaron knew that the most important thing was to try and stop the flow of blood as much as possible. If it was instinct or training, Hotch couldn’t be sure with the pain he was in. For now, all he could do was try and survive. Roman was thinking the same thing for himself as a multitude of options flashed in front of his mind. He was the leader and he needed to act like one as Davies looked at him like a deer in the headlight while the rest of his men glanced uneasily between Aaron’s hunched-up body on the floor and their leader.
Roman cleared his throat and took a more secure stance, with his feet apart and chest out. An idea was forming in his mind and he just needed his people to fall in line. Roman looked at Davies first and said, “It’s alright son. You did well shooting the fed. He earned it.” With those words, the men seemed to relax a bit and one knelt down next to Hotch to see the damage. Roman nodded a self-soothing gesture before saying, “Okay. Steve. Get us a trash bag or something to stop the blood so it will be easier to clean. Let’s do that first.” Steve rummaged through his back bar and tossed a roll of saran wrap and tape to Greg. Hank another senior member moved next to Greg and asked Roman, “Are we saving his ass?” LeBrant scoffed and replied, “Funk no. Just don’t want the fucker bleeding all over. Now, wrap him up tight, and don’t make it too comfortable on him either.” Hank snorted back laughter and he pulled Aaron’s torso off the floor roughly. Hotch tried uselessly to stop anyone from removing his hands from the gunshot wound, but he was too weak to put up a fight. His large hands were slick with blood as he tried and failed. Greg took out the plastic wrap and pushed the roll to Hotch’s stomach causing Aaron to groan out in pain. The pair on the floor moved the roll over the agent's wound minimally stopping the flow of blood. Davies watched as Aaron convulsed in pain on the ground.
The young man had thought he would feel better killing a fed, but what he was seeing was making him want to vomit instead. When the seran wrap was taped tight over Hotch’s blood-soaked shirt Roman instructed, “Greg, Hank, Davies, go take Agent Hotchner into the woods. Far away. I’d recommend the national park. Don’t kill him. Let him bleed out or better yet, let some animal finish him off. Take him in his car and then when you’ve dumped the body torch the car.” Everyone else, we’re cleaning this place, top to bottom. No drop of blood, nothing can be found here.” Everyone nodded and took on their roles quickly.
Hotch was jerked back to consciousness as he was dragged out the front door. He blearily saw someone open the door to his SUV before he was placed in the back seat. His brain was thinking of trying to run, to call for help, but he was stripped of his phone and hardly had the strength to keep his eyes open. Davies was standing outside the car still not sure what to do exactly, and most certainly not sure how to feel. Roman looked out the window at the man that had the potential to fuck his life over again. He turned to Steve and said, “Go out there and kill Davies. Headshot, make it fast, and don’t let him suffer.” Steve looked up at Roman and said astoundedly, “Roman?” LeBrant turned to Steve and said, “You heard me. The kid’s a liability. I am not going back to that shit fucking hell hole of a prison cell, and Davies seems to be trying to send me there, so go out there and get the job done. Put his body in the truck with Hotchner and tell Greg and Hank when they set the car on fire to leave Davies's body in there.”
It was with blind adoration that Steve hesitantly grabbed his rifle and stepped outside. The young man was still standing while looking at Aaron’s SUV as Greg and Hank looked at a map to decide where to drop Aaron off to have his last few moments of life. They were arguing about accessibility, getting the car in without being seen, and lugging the agent out into the middle of the surrounding forest. It had to be just right without the chance of anyone catching them but still able for two men to pull off alone. They didn’t trust Davies for shit. He was too green for the whole operation. Not trustworthy in their eyes.
Meanwhile, Aaron had gathered some of his bearings in the back seat. He was unhappy with his supine position in the back. It would be far too easy for him to be taken out quietly and quickly after the SUV had pulled away from the bar. While Aaron was waiting for something to happen, he pressed his left hand to his side tightly, grit his teeth, and used his right to slowly inch himself up to a seated position. He was well aware that this position was causing him to bleed out faster, but at this stage, life didn’t seem too long, and if he was going to go out, he would understand as much as he could as to what was happening around him, and if possible, leave traces for the team to find his body after.
The thought hurt Hotch as Jack would lose both of his parents. Aaron held himself back from crying, but the idea of his son being alone tore at him just as badly as the hole in his torso did. Aaron did not expect to see what he did. Just as his eyes got high enough to see out the window, the young man who had shot him had his name called from the porch of the establishment. Davies was about five feet from the bar and turned around. He didn’t see the shotgun in Steve’s hand, but Aaron did. There was nothing Hotch could do but close his eyes just before the blood splatter and brain matter painted the tires of his car. Aaron fell back onto the seat, not expecting to see an execution like that. He was too beaten to get back up, but at least he was laying on his side instead of on his back which would afford him a look out the front window so he could see where he was going or try and make mental notes of some landmarks; assuming that he wasn’t going to be blindfolded. From the state of things outside and groups shouting at each other, Hotch didn’t think that those dumping him would do anything more than take him far out and drop him.
A few moments later the back door was opened again and several men heaved Davies's body onto the floor in the back of the car. Aaron didn’t focus on the body apart from unintentionally seeing what was left of what had been a youthful face. He was unrecognizable now. Hotch closed his eyes and tried to steel himself for the ride to come. If he survived long enough he’d think about the man on the floor -- later, much later. Right now he centered his head on Jack, then on the team who were on a case in Ohio. Lastly, he tried his best to listen to Hank and Greg as they got in and revved the engine.
They were silent as they slowly drove out of the parking lot. The crunch of gravel and Aaron’s labored breathing punctuated the silence. It was clear to Aaron that the two men in the front were remaining quiet so Aaron wouldn’t have any more details about them, their plans, or the organization. He and the BAU had taken Roman down once, and they didn’t want to be in that frying pan again. As they hit the main road, Greg, who was driving, stayed just at the speed limit to not attract any attention from passing cars even though there were none on the road. However, as the car started hitting bumps, Aaron couldn’t hold in his pained grunts and whimpers as searing pain shot through him with each unexpected dip or rise in the SUV. It seemed that Aaron’s pained sounds were too much for the men, and they looked at each other and then the downed agent in the rearview mirror before they both started a light conversation that was fully juxtaposed to the gruesome scene around them.
The men began talking about the weather and then talked about their wives. Aaron could hardly hear the conversation as he tried to keep himself awake. The duration of the car ride took about half an hour, and Aaron noticed one very strange-looking tree that had been struck by lightning and bifurcated down the center almost perfectly. His brain had started to be pulled into so many different directions as his sanity slipped away from the blood loss. His brain wondered how many trees like that got struck annually, and he knew that Spencer would have an answer to that question. The team flashed before his mind when an abrupt halt of the car almost had Hotch fly into the seatbacks in front of him. He managed to not have that happen, and shortly after Greg and Hank were at the left side of the car and both grunted as they pulled Aaron by the legs out of the car.
Hotch almost hit the muddly path, but the two men held onto his underarms jostling him back to awareness. As strong as these men thought they were, they hadn’t realized just how hard it was to drag a limp body around, and Aaron had no strength to walk on his own feet and no desire to help in his own demise. In fact, if he could make it harder for them, he would. So Aaron coughed and made sure that some of his spit and blood got on the ground. Not only that but he also dug his toes into the earth so his tennis shoes left little trails in the mud. Hotch knew that if he was dealing with a more competent group, they would do something about this now, but Greg and Hank were too busy hauling him along to care at the moment. Greg was significantly taller than Hank and due to this, Aaron’s left side was far lower to the ground making the weight distribution of his toned body uneven. After only ten minutes, once the trio had entered what seemed to be a secluded and wooded part of the forest, the shorter man who was carrying the greater bit of weight grunted out, “Let’s dump him here. I can’t keep doing this and then have to trash a car too.” Greg, who was also tired agreed and they dropped Aaron like a load of bricks and took off as quickly as they could discussing loudly that there was a cliff face nearby and it was unlikely that anyone would find Aaron for days. Hotch moaned slightly and took in the scent of the wet earth near him. He supposed that dying in the forest, in nature, wasn't the worst place to go. It smelled nice and if he could only turn over he’d see the sky and canopy of trees above him once more. As his vision started fading again he realized he might not have that chance.
Nearby Aaron’s dump site, y/n had been on a four-day long backpacking trip. They’d asked their boss for the Friday and Monday off months ago. y/n had needed a chance to unwind, be alone, and potentially scream into the void. That type of behavior didn’t normally fly in their apartment and they were feeling so much more at peace after their first day of hiking. y/n had found a lovely spot to set up their small one-person tent for the evening. When y/n had gotten up the next morning and looked down the tall rock ravine, they saw the bolts in the wall from previous climbers. They regretted that it had rained the last night making any climbing impossible. y/n considered continuing moving along the twenty-five mile trail they had mapped two months before, but realized that they weren’t with a group and they were already almost halfway through the trail and could finish hiking it in a full day. Because of this, and because y/n had promised to do whatever they felt like on this trip, they decided to stay in that spot for the day. It was a bit off the beaten track which is what they wanted and in all honesty real life had been so stressful recently that just taking a day to sleep, read, and swim in the nearby river sounded like exactly what y/n needed.
y/n slept in another hour before making a cup of _c/t_. While they sipped their steaming cup, they picked up their most recent book and took a few minutes absorbing the pages of the story making small mental notes about where the plot might go and if some twist was coming in the next chapter. Somehow all the books that y/n read ended up having weird twists that they loved to hate. After getting through their drink and feeling warmed, y/n changed into light hiking attire that could be stripped down for a dip in the lake as long as the water wasn’t too cold or full of bramble from the rain last night. It was a short hike down to the water's edge and it was crisp, but not too cold to for a midday swim. y/n laid a towel down on the rocky shore after getting out of the water and drying off in the warmth of the sun. They dozed on and off as they tanned for a bit. Not that y/n was a vain person, but with the oncoming of summer, having a bit of a tan couldn’t hurt. When y/n was happy with their time by the lake, they moved back toward their tent and supplies which they had put in a bear bag and lifted high above the ground. It was about a thirty minute walk back to the tent when y/n would plan on what to do with the rest of their free day.
It felt wrong to just waste such a pretty day. When y/n was close to their campsite, they stopped in their tracks abruptly. The sound of voices and heavy footsteps is what made them halt. y/n’s stomach dropped for some reason. If they were on a more well-known trail or popular camping site, y/n would likely greet those on their walk in the opposite direction. But this was different. This area was secluded, off the beaten track. And from the sound of it, it was two men moving slowly nearby. y/n had spent enough time outside camping and backpacking to hear loads of horror stories of those having bad things done to them on the trail. Sure some of them were overembellished, but certainly not all of them, and y/n wasn’t willing to take the risk with their own safety. y/n slinked back into the brush and hoped that the men would stop before catching sight of their tent. y/n took slow soft breaths and waited, all there was to do was wait. Just as the footsteps seemed to be right on them, they stopped.
y/n couldn’t see the men. They’d stopped just out of sight. As they stopped, y/n realized that something was very, very wrong. The strong breathing of the men had hidden the sounds of another person. Someone who was clearly in pain. Their breathing was raspy like air wasn’t fully supplying their body. There was also a very painful-sounding grunt as the injured party hit the ground. One of the men said, “Fuck, that’s hard work. I don’t believe Roman’s stories now about all his brawls and picking people up in the clanger now.” There was a grunt and another, deeper voice replied, “Shit man, I don’t believe half of his crap, but he’s the boss. He says jump and I jump. Now let’s get back to the car and torch it. The agent here won’t last long.” The first voice agreed and said, “Yeah. I need a shower and another beer. Let’s hope it’s all cleaned up by the time we get back to Steve’s.”
y/n felt like they couldn’t stand still any longer. The desire to take a deep breath of just look out to see what was happening at the men who were talking pulled at them like an itch. But not all itches should be scratched. Some needed to not be disturbed, and it felt like torture, but y/n held back from moving until the sound of chatter and footsteps were long gone. Even after they were out of audible range, y/n waited. After another few restless minutes, they got up from their hiding position. From the sound of it, someone, perhaps someone unsafe was very injured. Even so, it wasn’t like y/n to leave someone hurt to fend for themself. With caution, y/n moved through the low brush and mud, and after a few paces, they noticed a man lying on his stomach. It didn’t take y/n more than a second to realize that the man on the ground, even if he was some hardened criminal, was unable to fight. Besides this fact, there was the comment about the “Agent not being around long,” so the man might have been on the opposite side of crime. Without hesitation y/n moved next to the prone form in the mud and set down their backpack. The man gave a small sound, perhaps aware that there was someone else near him. y/n looked over the man and noticed the saran wrap around his torso. It was a poor attempt to staunch the flow of blood from a bullet wound. Given how much blood the man had lost, there was no time to lose in getting the man medical help.
y/n knelt down next to the man and noted the thick blood coating his forehead and brow. y/n patted his shoulder, and he managed to open his eyes. Aaron could see the blurry figure of someone kneeling in front of him. He thought it was a hallucination until they touched his shoulder and tried to say something to him. Understanding the stranger's words was beyond all comprehension to him now. y/n could tell that he didn’t understand or see them well, but at least he was awake. It would be in his best interest to keep him awake. If the man slipped off to sleep, he may never wake again. So with that in mind, and to try and keep him in as calm a mindset as possible, y/n took off their jacket which they had tied around their waist, and placed it on the man’s back. It would do for a bit of padding and something to soak up the excess blood. There was no need to cut this side of the plastic wrap, and why it had been added in the first place was a mystery. But that wasn’t the main goal right now. The main goal was to stabilize the man for long enough until medical help arrived. y/n grit their teeth and said firmly. “I’m going to roll you over onto your back and then run to my tent and grab some supplies while I call 9-1-1 for you, okay.”
The man didn’t make a sound, but y/n knew that shifting his weight was going to be painful, so they didn’t waste more time. Given the man’s parlor, there was no time to waste. y/n grabbed the man’s shoulder and hip and tried to slowly and carefully roll him onto his back. As soon as y/n pulled their hands away, which were slick with blood, the man groaned in pain as his body settled. He was still awake. y/n cringed to hear him and said, “I’m going to run to my camp, get some supplies, and call in an emergency helicopter. I’ll be back in five minutes max.” y/n swallowed thickly trying not to be sick at the sight of the man. They grabbed his right hand and placed it over the bullet hole. The man’s hand was crusted over with blood, and it was large. His fingernails had dirt caked under them, and y/n imagined that it might be painful when he got washed up with all the hair his arms had on them. y/n snapped back to the moment. It had only been a millisecond, but in moments of high stress, they always found themselves focusing on the smallest, most insignificant things. They shifted their eyes to the man’s and he seemed to be locked on theirs. y/n nodded their head and said, “Hold your hands here, as hard as possible, okay.” The man nodded slightly, and with that, y/n got up and ran toward their campsite.
It was in moments like these that y/n hated that they didn’t always carry their cell phone with them when they camped alone, but then again, they hadn’t expected to find themselves in this situation either. y/n was an experienced outdoors person. With friends and family that respected and highlighted being self sufficient and being able to take care of one’s self. In their world being unable to handle any situation was a weakness and therefore y/n had pressed themselves to always be prepared. This included knowing basic first aid and other skills that were more niche to their interest in spending a lot of time outside. Although it had been hard to be a parental figure and having to figure out being self-sufficient from a very young age, the parentification had equipped y/n for moments like these, and for meeting strange men in the woods if it ever came to that. y/n ran as quickly and as carefully as possible. It would be no good to anyone if they slipped and twisted or broke an ankle or wrist before getting back to the man. The image of his bloody and bruised body was seared in their retinas. They hadn’t seen anything this bad, ever, and the questions on what had happened to the man and who he was came faster than y/n could process them. It was all a sickening blur. y/n made it to their camp and almost dove into their tent. They found their phone first which was still on the solar-powered charging brick. y/n checked for a signal and let out a small prayer of thanks that there was a signal. Even though they were pretty far out, a signal was more often present than not. And if there wasn’t, there were always ways to contact emergency services, but it would take longer, and there wasn’t time for longer right now.
After one ring the emergency operator answered, “9-1-1, please state your name and the nature of your emergency.” The woman on the phone sounded calm, calmer than y/n felt. Their breath had picked up with all the running, and they had to clear their throat before saying, “My name in y/n, _l/n_. I’m at Shenandoah National Park on the east side camped near Ghost View Lake. There’s a man who needs a Medevac as soon as possible. He’s been shot in the torso, and he’s been severely beaten.” There were a few clicks on the other end of the line and the responder asked, “Are you with this man now? Is he still breathing?” y/n nodded, taking in the person’s words before saying, “I’m not with him right now. He was breathing when I left him. I had to run to my tent to call you and get my emergency supplies.” There was more typing and a muffled voice on the other end of the line before the woman came back on saying, “Please get back to the man as quickly as possible. Do you have any medical training?” y/n nodded saying, “Some, but not much. The bullet seems to have gone clean through though, and he’s lost a lot of blood.” As y/n was speaking, they began packing all of the important things to help the hurt man into their large backpack. By the time they had started zipping up the sides, the operator had told y/n to get back to the Hotch and light a flare for the helicopter to see so they could find a spot to land. The woman relayed that it might be twenty minutes or more before help came, and to keep the man awake if possible. As y/n ran back toward Aaron, they were given more specific instructions on what to do once they were back. y/n kept the woman on the line and as soon as they found an open and dry spot close to where they had found Aaron, they pulled out a flare and struck it against the cap of the flare. Once the melting hot red light burst from the tip like the tale of a demon, they set the flare on a smooth rock, far enough away from the wet brush and leaves to not start a forest fire. Once this was done, y/n moved as quickly as possible back to the man.
Since y/n had been gone, Aaron felt his strength ebb again. Had the person said something to him? The world was dark again and he was beginning to feel numb. But the memory of the feelings of their hands on his, pressing against his stomach reminded him that they had been real, at least for a moment. Hotch also knew that sleep was death, and therefore grit his teeth and pressed against his torso again over his wound. The pain shot through him again, though his time was less intense; he knew this was not a good sign. Just as Aaron felt his hand slipping, he noticed a bright red light in the corner of his vision, and the person who had been with him before returned.
y/n skidded to a halt in front of the man, falling to their knees saying, “Hey, you’re still with me. Good. You’re doing good. Help is coming, I promise.” y/n placed their hands on either side of his head and the feeling of their fingers on the side of his face had Hotch open his eyes slightly. Just the simple feeling of touch was a comfort, even if he was doomed to bleed out on the forest floor. Hotch pondered how funny small things became huge things when life was about to end. y/n noticed his brown eyes on them and said, “I’m just making sure your head is laying flat. Then I’m going to check your mouth to make sure you’re not going to choke on your own blood.” Aaron tried to nod, but he couldn’t manage it. y/n knelt further forward and helped Aaron open his mouth. Thankfully there didn’t appear to be any blockage of his trachea, though his breathing was labored. Where or what that situation was, was beyond y/n, so they moved to the next thing the emergency operator had said to do.
The woman was still on the phone, but y/n was so hyper-focused on the task in front of them, that they didn’t think to give a report on the man’s condition. While he was trying to see the person in front of him more clearly, y/n started pulling things out of their backpack and setting them on the ground, attempting to not get them muddy or contaminated while still being efficient. Once y/n had pulled out their small knife, their first aid kit, and the clean clothes they had, they rezipped their bag and moved to the man’s feet. y/n spoke loudly, so the man could possibly hear, “I’m going to raise your feet. Keep the blood going to your head as much as possible. y/n grabbed their bag and placed it just to the side of the man’s lower legs. y/n didn’t want to shift the man’s body much, if at all, so they had to have things in place. They took another sturdy breath and lifted his left leg just high enough to move their backpack under his knees. The man groaned and y/n said, “I’m sorry. Sorry,” y/n repeated one more time before moving the other leg next to the first. y/n knew that this would be the least of the man’s pain. y/n placed their hands on the ground and took another stabilizing breath, reminding themselves that they could do this. That they could do anything, that they had had to do everything. y/n tried to picture the man as someone they’d protected in the past. Someone that they would do anything for. This helped y/n in moving forward to the next step. Before doing what needed to be done, y/n looked at the man again, tapping his face. Those big brown eyes met theirs again, half understanding, half sad. y/n said more softly this time. “This is going to hurt. I’m sorry. Try not to bite your tongue. Keep your teeth clenched,” y/n demonstrated, “like this.” y/n they looked a fool, but what else could they do?
y/n pulled a packaged sanitary wipe from the ground and ripped it open. They rubbed it over their hands thoroughly. When the moisture had evaporated, y/n grabbed their first aid kit and pulled out all of the cotton balls and cotton bandages that were inside. y/n placed them on top of the kit and hoped the no wind would blow the supplies away, there were already scant few as it was. Next, y/n grabbed their knife and opened it with a flick of the wrist. y/n knew that once they made the next move there was no going back until the medics arrived. With a look of determination, y/n shifted forward and carefully slipped the tip of the knife under the plastic wrap covering the man’s front. His shirt protected his skin from the sharp blade from cutting him further, and y/n cut up and out with as much care as possible. The blood made the surface of the saran wrap slippery in y/n’s free hand and the multiple layers were not as easy to cut through. However, after what felt like an eternity and with y/n’s heart beating loudly in their ears, the plastic was freed from his body. y/n quickly closed and locked their blade and pushed the plastic barrier aside along with Hotch’s soiled shirt. Even though the saran wrap hadn’t done much to stop the blood from leaving the man’s body, it’s removal along with the final absorption barrier being pulled aside allowed the blood to ebb up a bit more in a trickle of crimson. Again y/n didn’t have time to look at the deep red pooling up on the man’s stomach. Instead, they grabbed a cotton ball and with as much mental strength as they had, pushed it into the weeping wound. The man’s body jolted in pain, but y/n ignored him and grabbed another piece of cotton and then another, pushing each of the white puffs into the bullet hole. The clean cotton was instantly stained red, and y/n tried to ignore the man’s cries of pain knowing that this was for the best. Keep the blood in the body, get his legs up, keep him awake. That was what the nurse had said and what was what they were going to do. At least to the best of their ability. Another eternity later, the hole was filled. It was still releasing blood but at a slower pace.
y/n grabbed the biggest cotton bandage they had and pressed it on top of the packed wound. y/n placed both hands over this last dam, and pressed down to try and keep the man stable. To keep him alive. It wasn’t until all of this had been accomplished that they managed to look up at his face. The man’s eyes were drooping closed and y/n said, “Hey, hey, stay with me. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?” Aaron turned his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look at the person helping him. It was a comfort to be in their presence. He still couldn’t see them so he said in a low voice, “Hotchner.” y/n nodded, assuming it was a last name. They were at a loss for what to say next. Nothing felt right, so they opted for questions, easy ones. Or at least ones that seemed easy for them. “Hi, Mr. Hotchner. Where were you going today? What brought you this way.”
Aaron, whose brain had been feeling numb for some time, had started getting more blood circulation thanks to his legs being lifted off the ground. He could feel his helper's hands still over his side. Where he was and what was happening felt beyond him again. He didn’t like the feeling at all, but his body was shutting down and he half-mumbled, “I’m going to see my wife. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.” y/n, nodded and replied softly, “I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you. And I know you’ll be happy to see her.” It wasn’t until this point that y/n had thought about him as a person. Not actually as a person, person, but as a man with a life and things outside this very moment of survival. But as they raised one hand and just barely shifted his hair that was caked with blood, off his forehead it became increasingly more difficult to see Mr. Hotchner as anything else than a man who is hurt and probably afraid to die. At the person’s touch, Aaron moved his dominant hand up and this allowed y/n to see that he wasn’t wearing a ring. This fact only came to y/n’s mind because Mr. Hotchner had just said that he was going to see his wife. y/n justified that perhaps the man was just one of many many husbands who didn’t wear a wedding ring, but for some reason, y/n didn’t think that this man would be one of them. Something in their gut just said otherwise. A moment later Hotch said something that would shock y/n even more as he said, “I’m worried about Jack. I can’t go away.” y/n looked up at him and moved their hand back to the now blood-soaked bandage and asked, “Who is Jack Mr. Hotchner?”
The image of Jack passed in front of Aaron, and he saw himself holding his child, Jack smiling. Maybe it was Christmas time because the lights were twinkling in the background. Then Jack at his first soccer game came to mind, his little legs carrying him toward a ball he was sure to miss. Hotch blinked back tears as he came back to himself. Weakly he said, “My son. Jack is my son. He’s a good kid. Really good. He doesn’t deserve this.” Aaron was thinking about the very real possibility of his son losing both of his parents, but he didn’t vocalize that out loud. y/n furrowed their brow and said “You’re going to be fine Mr. Hotchner. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see your son and your wife again. I know it.” y/n was speaking to themselves now mostly. The trauma of finding someone brutalized in the woods and the possibility that he might die in front of them was finally settling in. y/n had experienced trauma before, but not like this. This was different. Thankfully y/n didn’t have much time to explore this train of thought as the sound of the helicopter approached nearby. y/n bowed their head in thanks for the sound that drowned out their thoughts and didn’t even realize that they had set their head on Aaron’s chest while still keeping their trembling hands on his wound.
When they arrived, it took the emergency medics a moment to pry y/n off of Aaron as they struggled to let the man they were trying to save go. When y/n realized what was happening, they moved off to the side on unsteady feet and watched the flight paramedics assess and then begin rudimentary efforts to stabilize their patient. y/n watched as a blood transfusion was started and the packing of the bullet wound was made better with medical-grade supplies. These things felt like a blur and as the two-person medical team began moving Aaron onto a stretcher, the sound of police sirens in the distance became audible. y/n realized that the helicopter operator had shared the patient's location and law enforcement was coming to help. This allowed y/n to relax slightly realizing that they were not going to be left alone in the woods once the Medevac was gone.
Although y/n had felt peace knowing more help was on the way, the questions seemed endless as police arrived and went over the course of the afternoon again. They pointed out everything. Said as much as they could remember and watched as the orange helicopter lifted off and moved Eastward. The last thing they heard from the trauma team at the hospital was, “We have a multisystem failure. Patient is already on a transfusion and Fentanyl…” as they passed by,. y/n’s brain now felt like scrambled eggs and they longed for some respite. Eventually, the police said that y/n would need to come to the station and that they could get a ride in one of the cruisers. Behind y/n’s back, the officers also noticed that y/n should also go to a hospital, and driving there themselves was not a safe idea for them. A few minutes later, y/n tipped their head against the headrest in the backseat of the police car simply letting things happen to them at this point. The officers had assured them that a recovery and crime scene team would gather their belongings from their campsite along with their car. This was all for evidence too, but y/n was too tired to comprehend what was being said to them.
A few hours later y/n made it out of the room they had been seen in at the hospital. It was very dark outside at this point but the police had easily identified the man they had found, Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner. The words ran over y/n like a wave. Anything would bowl them over now, but finding out that they had found a federal agent near death in the woods was astounding. In the hospital, y/n was given a thorough exam and then given some strong sleep medication and some Benzos so that y/n could have a sound night’s rest. The local police station had called the Quantico Field Office to let the Beaure know that Agent Hotchner was in critical condition at the JFK University Medical Center.
As it turned out the BAU was out on a case at the moment, but the Lead Team Coordinator said they would reach out. Within the hour the hospital and police station knew that a member of the BAU was flying up immediately on their jet and should be there sometime around three in the morning. With this information in mind, the police had asked y/n to stay at least one day in town before going home. The very professional-sounding man, Agent Rossi, who was headed to the hospital had asked them to stay and talk. The police had made the choice easy by booking a cab and a room to get y/n from the hospital to the hotel room they had booked in their name. Thankfully, y/n’s boss, after a few minutes of explaining what had happened, had given them the rest of the week off. y/n knew they would need it. Nothing felt quite real anymore and some more time alone would be good. Before y/n went to call the cab, to get a shower and sleep, they stopped at the receptionist's desk and asked, “Do you know if Aaron Hotchner is in a stable condition?” The nurse asked them how they knew the patient and y/n showed their own medical bracelet and explained that they had found Mr. Hotchner. The man looked at y/n and how tired they appeared, nodded, and replied, “I’m sorry, I can’t share any information about the patient” There was a long pause before they added, “However, Mr. Hotchner is still in the ICU.” y/n nodded, wanting more information but also knowing that they had already been told more than was allowed. With that scant information, y/n moved outside and caught their ride.
The first thing that was surprising to Aaron was the fact that he woke up at all. The feeling of the stiff mattress against his fingers and the crisp sheets covering his body. The sterile scent of antiseptic was the next thing he noticed. He took a few moments to just take in the fact that he had survived the ordeal with Roman. Much of what had happened after the beating in the bar was foggy and beyond his reach. He tried to take a deep breath to center himself but that was a serious error as this triggered parts of his body that weren’t ready to be used that way yet. He let out a cough only exacerbating his pain. The feelings of multiple IVs which he detected now became more apparent and when he opened his eyes, the blurry figure of someone standing came into better focus as the door to his room opened letting in more light from the hallways. As his vision cleared, he could see Dave turn around and greet someone who must have been a doctor. Rossi stepped back a bit, but just knowing Dave was here let Aaron be checked over and taken care of. He didn’t have the energy for much more than being pocked and very lightly prodded before he slipped back into unconsciousness.
The next time Hotch woke, he was more aware. The room didn’t spin and he could see Dave looking down from his seat near the hospital bed. Aaron didn’t know what to say and just said, “Hey.” At hearing Hotch, Rossi sat forward in his seat and softly replied, “Hey there. Looks like you had a hell of a time with Sean.” Sean hadn’t even crossed Aaron’s mind, but Dave’s attempt at humor while he was feeling like hell was actually funny and Aaron let out a half scoff, half laugh before leaning his head back on the pillow. It wasn’t until he tried to move the blanket to feel more covered that he realized his arm was in a cast. His whole body felt numb, and in that moment, he was grateful for opioids. Rossi moved forward and moved the blanket up and over Aaron’s shoulders. Hotch looked up at Dave and asked, “How bad?” Rossi’s eyes moved toward him, a sure sign that it wasn’t good. After a deep breath, Dave said, “You lost a lot of blood, you’re fighting an infection, concussion, broken arm, and multiple lacerations to your head and body.” Hotch nodded, absorbing the information before saying, “Yeah, Sean really did a job on me.” Rossi could see regret in Aaron’s eyes even though the statement was an attempt at a joke. Dave frowned. Something had happened with Sean and it wasn’t fair to Aaron after being through such a crucible that he should feel bad about anything at the moment. Dave thought about reaching out and patting Hotch on the shoulder, but it was likely Aaron wasn’t looking for touch right now, so he settled with telling his best friend that the team was coming to find LeBrant, who had gone into hiding, and how Jessica would bring Jack down when the doctors said it was okay. Aaron nodded again, thankful that Dave knew him so well. When Rossi had given him some time to just relax and center himself, Aaron asked, “Who was it that found me? Have you seen them?” All Aaron could remember about the person who had saved his life was that they had stayed with him. That their presence, even if he had died, had made him feel safe.
Rossi replied, “I haven’t seen them yet, though I’ve asked them to meet me here. There are some questions I still have about their report. They should arrive in a few minutes, and that way you can have some time alone if you like. I did read about them, they’re name is y/n y/l/n y/a and they live in Virginia.” Aaron swallowed, his mouth feeling dry before saying, “I’d like to see them when they come. If they’re comfortable with it.” Dave nodded and replied, “I’ll ask them when they get here. For now, just try and rest. Let me know if you need anything and I’ll get the nurse.” Aaron nodded and let his eyes slip closed again. He could sense that Dave was keeping things from him, about what he couldn’t tell, but he’d ask in time, for now, he was alive.
y/n entered the hospital again. This time it felt better. They were going to get some answers, hopefully, or at least some information about Agent Hotchern’s condition. They’d answer more questions about that information. After the last few day or so the thought of Mr. Hotchner hadn’t left their mind. y/n went to the receptionist who paged another party in the hospital and after a few minutes, an older man walked into the hallway. y/n could tell that he was Agent Rossi instantly. His clothing and demeanor gave him away, along with the deep circles under his eyes. y/n turned toward the man and extended their hand toward him. Rossi gave y/n a reassuring smile and as he took their hand said, “Hello. I’m Agent Rossi. You must be y/n y/l/n?” y/n nodded yes and said, “Yes Sir. That’s me.” Dave gave a small laugh at being called sir, and gently led y/n to a seat on the far side of the waiting room. They both took a seat and there was a moment of awkward silence as they both made mental observations about the other. Finally, y/n said, “Agnent Rossi, I’m happy to answer any questions you might have about my report, but could you tell me if Mr. Hotchner is alright?” Dave dipped his head and pulled himself together saying, “He’s doing better. He’ll have a hard and long recovery, but he’ll be alright. Hotch has gone through a lot, he’ll make it through this too.” y/n listened thinking about the type of person that can say with confidence after such an ordeal that they would make it though. It seemed like a lot, but Mr. Hotchner was clearly cut from Kevlar. y/n replied, “Thank you for telling me. Now, um, what questions did you have for me? I wrote down some notes to try and jog my memory.” Rossi lifted an eyebrow as y/n pulled a notebook from their mini backpack and flipped to a page that had a neat, color-coded timeline of events. Dave smiled at this before saying, “I would like to look at your notes, but I have some questions of another nature to ask first.”
y/n looked confused about what Rossi had said, and he clarified stating, “I’d just like to know if Aaron said anything to you while you were with him?” y/n let out a breath realizing this was a more personal visit. This was to see how his coworker was, not physically, but mentally and emotionally. y/n felt bad for not having thought of that before now and swallowed, realizing this was going to be another layer they would need to unpack within themselves as well. After this thought had passed, y/n replied softly at first, “We did kind of talk, though I did most of it to keep my mind still.” Rossi nodded encouraging y/n to continue, which they did. “I did ask him where he was going and he said that he was going to see his wife. And that he was sorry for his son. He tried to say more after that but it was all sort of jumbled up.” y/n looked up, fresh emotions welling up in them at the remorse that Mr. Hotchner had shown while he lay dying. There was a glimmer of tears in Dave’s eyes too and y/n moved a hand to his comfortingly and asked. “Agent Rossi?” to check in on him. Dave sniffled and moved a handkerchief under his eyes before squeezing y/n’s hand back replying, “Please, just call me Dave. Aaron’s wife passed a little over a year ago. I, I guess I didn’t know what he would think about, but it would make sense.”
Hearing Dave’s words, a pang of hurt shot through y/n. Suddenly Aaron’s words made more sense. He said he was going home and being sad about it. Jack’s name popped into their mind and y/n asked hopefully, “His son, Jack. He said he had a son. Is he okay? Is Jack with his mom?” Dave closed his eyes and replied reassuringly, “No. Jack is fine. He’s a sweet and hyper kid.” That thought, of Aaron’s son being there for him, made y/n feel better. It was strange for them, to have such intense and strong feelings for a man they hardly knew, but then again, they had been through a lot together. There were a few more minutes of silence as Dave processed and moved on by asking to look at y/n’s notebook and to ask questions for them. Looking at y/n’s notes and the very detailed recount they had written was precise and smart. Not perhaps like a profiler, but somewhat so. That conversation lasted about a half hour and Rossi could see that y/n was tired and he still needed to broach the topic of them seeing Aaron, so to take something off of their plate he began by saying, “y/n this has been very helpful for me, both as Aaron’s coworker and as his friend. I know you’ll need your own time to process and work through all of this but I might need to contact you again by myself or a member of my team. Would it be okay if I left you my number and I got yours?” y/f felt a hitch in their breath thinking that this might be over. All the adrenaline came to a big crash like a wave on the rocks. But it had to end sometime, at least they thought so, so they nodded yes. The pair traded numbers and then Dave said, “y/n, I know this has been a lot, but I was just with Aaron and he asked if he could speak with you if you’re up to it. If not, he’ll fully understand.”
At the suggestion, y/n’s eyes shot up in surprise. Not that they hadn’t been thinking about the man twenty-four-seven since they’d first seen him in the woods, but the idea that he would even want to see them felt like a surprise. Curiosity suddenly turned into apprehension and for a second they thought about running out of the room for some wild reason. But y/n came back to earth and knew that perhaps this would be their only time to see the man they’d helped and it would hopefully make things feel more resolved, more final. And they’d have the peace of mind of knowing that he really was alright. So y/n nodded yes and Dave gave them one of his reassuring dad smiles and got up, leading y/n toward Aroon’s room. He flashed his badge when he came across anyone looking at him funnily. At the door to Hotch’s room, Dave knocked and opened the door slightly saying, “I’ve got a visitor for you, Aaron.” There was a muffled response from inside and then Rossi stood back and said, “I’ll be just outside when you’re finished.” y/n swallowed thickly and stepped into the room.
The space was large enough for a chair or two by the hospital bed, surrounded by medical equipment that beeped on a cycle of minutes, keeping time. The lights had been dimmed and as y/n’s eyes adjusted, they took a small step closer toward the bed. Mr. Hotchner was all cleaned up from his blood-soaked state and now that he was visible, y/n couldn't help but notice how striking and attractive he was. y/n pushed that thought aside, it wasn’t the time. His dark eyes met theirs, and y/n said awkwardly, “Hello Mr., I mean Agent Hotchner, Sir.” Hotch let out a half laugh and said replied, “It’s alright, you can call me Mr. Hotchner, or just Aaron is okay.” y/n nodded listening to his deep voice. Different than how it had been in the woods. There was life in this version of him, and it made y/n feel better. y/n took another step forward, not sure what to expect.
Aaron watched y/n move forward. They were young. Younger than a normal person should have to deal with such stress and anxiety. He could see their apprehension even as they stepped close to him. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Why don’t you have a seat, y/n.” y/n did as he said feeling the authority in his presence even as he was in bed recovering. Of course, he wasn’t directing that toward them, just that that power was there in him. It didn’t surprise y/n that he was someone important in the FBI. y/n sat in the chair closest to Aaron so they could hear him better. y/n wasn’t sure how to act now. They wanted to say they were sorry about his wife. But that was too personal. y/n opted for just asking, “Are you feeling okay?” The words sounded hollow in the face of the pain he had experienced in his life.
Hotch smiled slightly, seeing the struggle in y/n’s eyes. He was glad to see y/n. To really see them and know who they were given how they had kept him calm and feel safe a day ago. Once y/n was seated he replied, “I’ll be okay. It’s just going to take time. I wanted to see how you are doing actually.” y/n’s eyes widened slightly. Shone in the darkness of the room. Taken aback they said, “I’m… okay. I always end up being okay in the end.” Hotch nodded, seeing himself in y/n instantly. Another survivor of a difficult life. It was easy to compartmentalize, and he didn’t want that for them. Not this young. So he said again, “I hear you. But how are you, really feeling?” y/n took a deep breath and tried to suppress the emotions before saying in a shaky voice, “Tired, scared and I don’t know why.” Aaron nodded in understanding. He moved his hand toward y/n, not sure what his intentions were with that movement. Hotch replied, “You don’t have to think about it all right now. But don’t let it out with someone at some point it will eat you up. Do you think you can take this?”
y/n knew that Aaron was asking about just life in general. How overwhelming it could be after something like this. They had dealt with these feelings before, not like this, but close enough for y/n to say, “Yes. I can bounce back.” Hotch knew that response too. The bounce back. He didn’t want to pressure y/n to seek help, he’d be a hypocrite for saying so, but he worried. This person had saved his life and he didn’t want to see them crumble for it. Hotch took a moment and said, “Thank you for being there for me. I wouldn’t have made it without you.” Not really thinking he added, “You made me feel safe in that moment. I didn’t know if I was going to feel that again.” There was a long silence after his statement as they both absorbed his words. The quiet was punctuated by y/n’s quiet response of, “You’re welcome. I’m happy I could be that for you, Aaron.” y/n looked over at Hotch and could see there was something there. A bond, a name whisper on the wind, or a star. It was a flicker for just a moment and it was gone, but they had both felt it, some of the overwhelming feelings they both housed within.
In another moment Aaron said, “I’ll let you go, but I’m sure Dave has given you his number, but tell him to give mine as well. I may not be at my best right now, but if you ever need anything y/n, anything, you can give me a call.” y/n nodded and stood wondering if the last they’d ever see of Aaron Hotchner, and was at least grateful for having crossed paths with him. They brushed their hands over his hand for a moment before smiling, saying “I hope you are well soon, Aaron,” leaving the room. Aaron watched as their figure moved outside and stopped to talk to Dave for a moment then disappeared.
Rossi entered the room and asked, “Do you feel better now?” Hotch nodded and replied, “Yes. Did you give them my number?” Dave laughed and said, “Sure did, office and cell.” Aaron huffed but then said seriously, “y/n will need protection for a few weeks at least.” Rossi replied, “Already on it. Or Garcia is on it. Knowing her, y/n will be getting flowers and chocolate for life.” Hotch laughed at the truth in that statement and felt better. Yes is sucked, this sucked, and his body hurt like hell, but he was alive and things would get better. Aaron’s mind flickered back to his fight with Sean and he laid back on the bed with a groan. Dave watched and eventually, Hotch said with his eyes still closed, “Would you call Sean for me?” Rossi had Sean’s number in case of emergencies with Aaron, Jack, or Jessica. Rossi had everybody in the team's close family on that list. Dave couldn’t help but say, “Why do I have to call him, if you do will he throw his phone out the window or something?” Hotch scoffed and replied, “Just about, but I need to talk to him.” Rossi understood and took out his phone and dialed Aaron’s younger brother before handing the line over to Aaron.
Aaron had something planned to say, but Sean beat him to it saying, “I’m sorry, Aaron. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. You don’t deserve it.” Hotch let out a breath and replied as lightly as possible, “You bet I didn’t. But I want to apologize too. I got hot-headed…” Rossi motioned for Aaron to ask if he wanted him to leave the room or not. Aaron nodded his head no, and Dave settled in his chair. As Sean and Aaron spoke, and attempted in their own ways to make amends, Aaron knew that things would get better. There was family, be it Jack, Sean, or the team, and there were people out there willing to help. The image y/n smiling down at him filled him with a strange warmth, and he let the image and feeling linger as Sean went on about his day.
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