#i love you always and forever miss hong cha young

[cuddlybitch]

userdramas event 01: favourite character —Hong Cha-young (Vincenzo) + HAPPY BIRTHDAY @orangesyellow

happy happy birthday to you, angela! you are forever my colouring inspiration, you taught me everything I know when it comes to doing colourful sets like these! thank you for letting me drag you into various fandoms and side blogs! i always have fun doing those projects with you!!! i hope you have the best of days today!!!

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, vincenzo and cha-young are exes, they were in a relationship before, Fake/Pretend Relationship, jealous!vincenzo, Jealousy

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO @trynatalktou FOR BEING THE BEST BETA I COULD’VE ASKED FOR. THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO HER!

Summary: Time stops, or so it seems. Vincenzo is petrified, beautiful statue of a man turned into stone. Her eyes follow the high bridge of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw and the curves of his slender hands gripping the coffee mug. Ah, she thinks. This is how Pygmalion fell in love with Galatea.

listen to this spotify playlist while reading if you want to suffer

Cha-young doesn’t dream that night; she barely sleeps 5 hours before she finds herself knocking on Vincenzo’s door at 6 am. She can’t help it, being in a room just underneath his, so close after all those years apart. Yet, she doesn’t want to show him mercy. She’s here to torment him, the way his absence had tormented her for years. Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly, maybe she probably shouldn’t seek him out first, or at all. 

In reality, Cha-young knows damn well that she’s trying to find an excuse to be with him, not that she would ever admit it to anyone. 

So there she is, pounding on his door at 6 in the morning. He stands there, wearing one of his expensive pyjama sets, dark circles sitting under his eyes. She can’t quite tell if she’d woken him up or if he hadn’t slept yet.

“Did you even love me?”, she greets him. Good morning is overrated anyway. 

He sighs, letting her through. “You know that.” 

“No, I don’t. I don’t know anything anymore, Vincenzo.”

She stops in her tracks, the world suddenly spinning around her. He’s standing behind her, a mere arm length away. She’s stuck in his gravitational pull, a planet orbiting around its sun. The sharp sensation of her nails digging into her palms is enough to get her moving. She sits on the couch, the same one she’d sat in just a few hours ago. 

“I did. I do.” He clears his throat, looking away. “Love you, I mean.” 

She nibbles on her lower lip, trying (and failing miserably) to ignore his use of the present tense. He loves her, still. She shakes her head. 

“Well, you seemed to be living well without me.”, her expression turns sour. Was it love to hope he’d grieved her loss as much as she had grieved his? 

Vincenzo finally settles in the chair facing her, running a hand through his hair. “There was a point where I wasn’t sure… I wasn’t sure if I would make it.” He winces. “During that time, my only salvation was knowing each day brought me closer to death.” He looks at her, gaze so intense it pierces right through her heart. 

She scoffs, “And I’m the dramatic one, huh?” 

That gets a laugh out of him, and suddenly they’re back where they first started, complicit smiles and knowing looks - them against the world. 

“Coffee?” he asks, eager to keep up the pleasant atmosphere. There’s still a lot that needs to be said, but she relaxes her shoulders, welcoming the lighter turn their conversation is taking. 

“Yes, please.” 

He busies himself with the instant coffee, that same yellow brand he’d gotten hooked up on while they worked together. “So what have you been up to, exactly?” 

“Jipuragi Law Firm just opened a new office in Busan, things are going well. It’s nice, we get to help people who need it. Probably not as exciting as being in a mafia war or whatever.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he gives her a cup of coffee and sits down next to her on the couch. There’s a safe distance between them, but there’s no point trying to shush the deafening beat of her heart. “Your father would be proud of you, Cha-young-ah.”

“You think?”, she sips on her coffee. She looks up from her mug, only to find him examining her face. His lips curl in a soft grin, and Cha-young thinks that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad if she kissed it. 

The loud ringtone startles her out of the daydream, and she’s not sure if she’s supposed to be annoyed or thankful. She picks up the phone. “Mmh. Okay. See you soon,” she drags out the last word, using the endearing tone she reserved for those closest to her. Mr. Kwon, her assistant, was asking her to eat breakfast with the team. 

“I have to go.”, she tells him, getting up from the couch. 

He takes her mug from her, “I didn’t realise you were here with someone.” 

She hears it loud and clear, in the way he fakes nonchalance and keeps his voice cautious. He’s asking her if she’s with someone and part of her wants to reassure him that No. There is no one else beside you. But then she thinks of the countless times where she’d cried herself to sleep, memories of them echoing into her mind and his absence carving a hole into her heart, and she can’t help herself. He had wounded her fatally and it was her turn to injure him. 

“Mmh.”, she’s not lying, technically. She’s there with someone, with people actually, just not in the way he means. 

Time stops, or so it seems.Vincenzo is petrified, beautiful statue of a man turned into stone. Her eyes follow the high bridge of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw and the curves of his slender hands gripping the coffee mug. Ah, she thinks. This is how Pygmalion fell in love with Galatea. 

The empty mug drops to the ground and the spell is broken. Brought back to life, Vincenzo collects the shattered pieces of the cup, and of his heart, too. “Is he a good person?”. Unlike me, he means. 

Cha-young has to remind herself that he deserves this, that this is his fault. “Mmh”, she repeats. “He is.” 

He’s back to the coffee station, his back to her. “I’m happy for you.”, his voice is tight. 

“Thank you.”, she’s almost at the door when she stops. “Maybe...Maybe we could be friends.”

He turns around, finally facing her. The distance between them, from one side of the room to the other, feels insurmountable. 

“Perhaps. If that’s okay with you.”, he answers. 

She doesn’t know what to say, so she stays silent. Is it possible for them to be anything else other than a tragic ending? 

“Perhaps. If that’s okay with you.”, he answers. 

She doesn’t know what to say, so she stays silent for a while. Would it ever be possible for them to be anything other than a tragic ending? 

She finally settles on a simple, “See you around.” An open ending, then. 

She’s cursing herself out the moment she leaves the room. What was she thinking? Cha-young had just lied to Vincenzo about being on holiday with her imaginary boyfriend. No, she corrects herself, she had simply misled him and he should’ve known better. 

She could picture it already; his aggravating smirk, raised eyebrows and insufferable “Oh, is that so?”, after she’d have to inevitably come clean. If only she hadn’t been so impulsive. Vincenzo would figure out her motivations the moment she’d admit to the lie; she wanted to see him jealous, to make him think she was doing better without him, that she was over him. He would see through the façade she had worked hard to maintain. 

Flushing at the thought of the colossal humiliation she would suffer, Cha-young scolds herself. Focus. This was a war that she needed to win. Like a general preparing for battle, she squares her shoulders and summons her most loyal soldier.

“Hey, it’s me. I have a favour to ask. Can you be my boyfriend for the next two weeks?” 

<>

At 37 years old, Kwon Ji-hwan considered himself to be a resilient man with a good head on his shoulders. In the four years he has been working for Ms. Hong, carrying out tasks outside of his job description was far from rare. Those included, but were certainly not limited to: picking her up after she’d drunk too much, infiltrating a yoga class to seduce a corrupt official’s wife, impersonating a law enforcement officer and hijacking an ambulance. In Ms. Hong’s vocabulary, a “favour” almost always meant something illegal. Despite her… methods, Ji-hwan enjoyed working for her greatly. The hours might have been long but the satisfaction of winning against the odds of powerful corporations made up for it. Also, the pay was really good. Still, as used to her antics as he was, he would’ve never expected her to ask something so absurd of him. 

Sitting there, in Ms. Hong’s hotel room (which, by the way, was way nicer than the regular ones she’d gotten for her employees), Ji-hwan cannot believe what he’s hearing. 

“Let me get this right,” he says, adjusting his glasses with his index finger. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend in front of your ex, who you’re obviously still in love with even though it’s been FIVE years—” 

“Yah!” 

“—because you want to make him jealous. Did I miss anything?” 

“That pretty much covers it.”, his boss replies, not even bothering to look ashamed. He looks at her, shaking his head. “So, will you do it?” 

He sighs, “What did this guy do to you for you to be so hung up on him after all this time?” 

He was not expecting the sorrow on her face as she answered, “He was there for me during the worst times of my life. We went through hell and back for each other. And then, one day, he left without saying anything.” 

“Wait, just like that? He didn’t even break up with you?” Ji-hwan raises his eyebrows. 

“Nope”, she accentuates the ‘P’. “He simply wrote ‘Live well.’ on a napkin and I never heard of him again. Until now.”

He scratches the top of his head, “What a fucking jerk.” She laughs, it’s rare to hear Ji-hwan swear. Finally, he rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’m in.”

“Yes, I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She’s doing her little victory dance now, shaking her hips in the least graceful way possible. Like every time his boss convinces him to blur the line of what is morally acceptable, Ji-hwan is regretting this already.

“If I said no, you would have threatened to fire me anyway.” 

“You know it.”

[marbleseyes]

This last episode was AMAZING!

Although Han Seo’s desth made me sad (poor puppy was just starting to know what it is to have people who care about you and who you care about), it was bound to happen. And it made a little bit less sad to know that he was able to die on his own terms, defending two people he respected and, maybe, loved, and confronting his brother on his bullshit.

Vincenzo ready to shield Cha like she shielded him? Perfection. Him going to Han Seo and comforting him at his last moments? Sincerely the sweetest thing ever.

The scene on the hospital room, the relief Vinny feels when acha looks at him, the tenderness with each they hold each other’s gazes, that whole interaction was a big “I LOVE YOU” and you can fight me on that if you disagree (but I won’t change my mind 🙃)

Mr Lee being stabbed hurt me SO MUCH. I was so relieved when he showed up again latter on. If one of the tenants had really died I would break. Also, our nutria being an ex surgical nurse?!?! Like, WHAT?!?! The plaza gang is so well rounded in regards to the talents they have. If there was to be a zombie apocalypse, you would want to stick to them.

The deaths of Choi and Han Seok were sssooooooo satisfying! And the difference from how a Cha Young with a clear conscience and these two monsters, heavy with sins, reacted to the approach of death was so stark! That crow on Han Seok’ slap was extremely cathartic.

They are now the cassano geumga family, and their boss is none other than Hong Cha Young, and that is just how it was supposed to be! They’re fearless, loyal, beautiful in their mafia family attire, all around perfect. 10/10 would recommend.

The monk talking with Vincenzo about the deity that protects Buddha and how, although he will never ascend to Buddha due to his sins, he can work for him and protect his people. He is worthy in his own way.

And then we finally see the bridge of inzaghi working (hehe) and our OTP is reunited, even if for one night. I loved that Vincenzo kept sending postal cards (always the same, he really doesn’t know how to be subtle with cha) and that he finally exposed his feelings and entered her personal space first. It was beautiful, him saying he though about her every day since he left, that he put a room aside for her in his family house, I just can’t.

And on they go, seeking justice in their own ways, loving each other always, being forever changed because they have each other.

I will miss this show so much!

Thank you for being such a delight, for the incredible cast, for the sincerely magical characters, all of them unique and beautiful. It was an amazing experience that brought so many people together and that will, undoubtedly, be remembered as one hell of a show!

[trynatalktou]

Save the last dance for me

Read on: ao3

‘’Why is he breakdancing in a slow song?’’

‘’I have NO idea.’’

‘’It’s horrifying.’’

‘’I mean, it’s kind of impressive.''

OR

We get the slow dance we were hoping for.

Through the music rippling its way across the salon; one could not simply take no notice of Hong Cha-young’s blazing magnetic force.

It could be perceived while she shared a waltz with Larry and his perfect posture.

Pulled awkwardly on Han Seo’s arms in a successful attempt to loosen up his stiff two left feet.

Swayed and skipped with Yeon-Jin and her unmatched energy for the entirety of two songs who left them breathless - both from uncontrollable laughter and from their high-stamina moves.

Or now, with Luca and their swiftly spinning which only ever seemed to momentarily cease when every so often Cha-young would trip on her own heels and he would hold her from the fall into a dip move.

Smooth.

Vincenzo stops resisting her pull by the end of the song.

‘’May I care to share the next dance with you, Miss?’’

The miss in question nods enthusiastically, and Luca kisses her hand in farewell, waggling his eyebrows -  in response, she gives a mockingly curtsy.

As soon as Luca leaves, Vincenzo takes a hold of her hand in his,finally drawing into her spell.

He is bewitched.

‘’It’s Mrs., actually.’’ she corrects, lacing her arms around his neck.

‘’Is that so?’’ is paired by a complacent grin.

‘’Well, soon to be anyways. Mister should be around here somewhere, so I would suggest you to behave.’’ she winks. ’’I would also like to inform the kind gentlemen to not do any fancy tricks - I think Luca might have reached the limit of twirls I can give before vomiting all those drinks out.’’

‘’Firmly noted.’’

A romantic beat starts to pulsate its leisurely melody through the crowd.

‘’When I walk down a road I don’t know well

And I am full of scare and doubt

I think of you [...] ’’

‘’It seems that it won’t be a problem sweetie, at least rhythmically speaking.’’

‘’That wasn't as smooth as you must imagine it was, darling.’’

He hooks her ankle to plunge her flirtatiously.

Cha-young steps on his foot.

‘’Urca!’’ comes as a soft whimper.

‘’Achilles’ heel much? What did I just tell you about the whole Luca thing?’’ She chastises.‘’I thought that he would for sure eventually drop me.’’

‘’He would never do such a thing’’ Vincenzo answers matter-of-factly. ‘’For one, I would have to play my own few jabs at his Achilles’ heel - and well, for two, he is actually quite an exceptional ballroom dancer .’’

‘’Oh, that he is.’’ She sighs.

‘’Should I be jealous, Mrs. Cassano?’’.

‘’[...] When you call my name,

I can see the light

Guiding me home like the stars in the night[...].’’

For all their smugness, the little name still manages to send a matching flame down their spines.

‘’Should I be jealous Mr. Cassano?’’ she retorts, defiance clear in her eyes.

He snorts while her lips twitch in amusement - his glance consequently drifts, enraptured by the small action.

Giving is at this moment could be described as the very definition of inevitable.

He closes his eyes and drowns into her perfume - into her. Permitting that the same allure who brought him to her tempts them even closer.

‘’[...]I’ve already known

I’ve already known

I’m lost without your arms around me.’’

Head angled down, he closes the proximity to at last kiss her - wait - the feeling is not the one.

He abruptly opens his eyes and discovers himself to be kissing - her cheek. She only chuckles at his betrayed expression as they pull apart.

‘’Sorry, amore mio.’’ she says while cupping his cheek. ‘’But you simply can not miss this.’’ and turns his head to the right.

There, in the middle of the dancefloor, Park Suk-Do twisted and popped his limbs sharply -and surprisingly - in compliance with the beat, handstands and stretches matched some of the moves in a testimony of the man’s incomprehensible flexibility. Larry could be seen gaping at the man, utterly dumbfounded.

The sentiment was shared by anyone who had the privilege and perhaps misfortune of seeing the scene.

‘’Huh, I think we found ourselves another exceptional dancer.’’

‘’Why is he breakdancing in a slow song?’’ Vincenzo asks, slightly scandalized.

‘’I have no idea’’ she accentuates the phrase with bewilderment.

‘’It’s horrifying.’’

Cha-young tilts her head.

‘’I mean, it’s kind of impressive - I bet he could give Larry a run for his money.’’

‘’Don’t ever let him hear you say that.’’ Vincenzo turns to her.

‘’Never.’’ she responds with a beaming smile.

‘’there’s no one else I’ve got in this world.

How could I live without you

until the sun cools down we will love

Nothing can stop us, no one will hurt us

I will be forever in your arms’’.

‘’Do you look like this to all of your dance partners?.’’

‘’Yah! What kind of girl do you take me for?’’ Cha-young slaps his chest. ‘’I only do it to the extra handsome ones, naturally.’’ she finishes with a roll of her eyes.

He pushes her flush against him by the waist. She looks up at his face, expression unreadable. The scene distinctly resembles that night - a couple of lives ago - filled with makgeolli, denial and hand gripping withstand.

He holds her tighter at the memory.

‘’Mr. Cassano please refrain from impropriety in public.’’ She gasps dramatically.

He hums and brings his right hand to draw circles though the nape of her neck.

A groan escapes her lips. He smirks.

Her own Achilles’ heel.

‘’You know what they say, impropriety is the soul of wit.’’ he whispers slily.

Her nose scrunches up in a giggle.‘’That’s most definitely not the quote.’’

‘’I’m always by your side, my love.

And this love is entirely for you,

With you, from you.’’

The force of this woman - that has him foolish with love, weak at knees, all and none of what the poets would write about and sing. Broke down his stride and now has him broken at the most random times.

‘’Vieni qui, per favore’’ He pleads.

The saint grant his wish.

‘’I’m always by your side, my love

From now my everything’s for you,

with you, from you.’’

[keiameli]

“Bouna Serata, Addio”

[Vincenzo Fanfiction of Vincenzo by Kei]

She never demand anything to him. She always understands him, respect him and considered his situation. Even though she wants him to stay by her side, she never said it to him because she knows what his mind wants and where his heart belong. It was never on Korea; it was never on her side. Even if they held a special place in each others’ heart, it was never enough for her to encourage him to stay and it was never enough to make him stay. 

When Vincenzo Cassano left, Hong Cha-young told herself that it was okay. He needs to leave and she already knows that he will soon leave because he doesn’t belong in Korea. An Italian mafia lawyer whose hands were stained with blood, a man who ended the lives of men he considered evil, a man who delivered his preys toward their demise has no place beside the people who were just genuinely good, who were just standing for themselves and fighting for their rights. Vincenzo Cassano was no saint and he will never be. And the place where he belongs is the place where he can freely show his true self, the dark and vicious man who never flinches when he’s shooting his enemies, straight to their heads.

What Hong Cha-young saw was not his full dark side. She just had a glimpse of his true colors but she accepted him without judging him and urging him to change into someone Vincenzo Cassano doesn’t want to.

And he was forever grateful to Hong Cha-young. As he walked through the darkness of life, he found his oasis, his light and his refuge. He feels safe with her embrace, it was like she was defending him from the monster—from the evil who wants to conquer him whole. She was his strength, the sole reason why he decided to fight against Babel. He will always come back to see her and to tell her how much he misses her. And he only got one chance to express his feelings to her every year. 

Every year, Hong Cha-young was always looking forward to the day when Korea celebrates its diplomatic relationship with Italy. It was the day when the birds decided to make a bridge in order for them to meet each other. It’s the day when she will finally see the man she’s longing for. Hong Cha-young doesn’t have any problem when it comes to waiting for him once a year. She knows that he will arrive because that’s what he had told her. She believes in him because he’s Vincenzo Cassano, the man her heart decided to fully trust. The day when they can finally meet was one of the happiest days in her life. It was a short moment that feels like forever because she’s with the man she wants to spend her forever—her lifetime with. Their meeting may not last for a day but it was enough, standing next to each other and drowning themselves with each others’ presence was enough. Looking at each other’s faces and noticing the changes; talking about their lives and sharing matters regarding them that happened in the whole one year they did not meet. 

Hong Cha-young was standing two meters away from the painting “The Lovers” by René Magritte. It was the first painting that grabbed her attention as soon as she entered the gallery. The painting shows an image of a man and a woman that are trying to kiss each other but they are both separated by grey hoods, lips never meet and the cloth was dry and suffocating. They can’t see each other and they can not even kiss. What caught her attention was the hoods that were separating the two lovers. Hong Cha-young depicts it as the two were in love with each other but they were clearly separated because of some circumstances or they love each other but they clearly don't know each other; both of them were hiding their true selves behind the grey hoods. She nodded her head as if she was agreeing to her thoughts. The painting has a lot of meaning behind it and it will depend upon the person who’s looking at it. She decided to move on to the next painting beside it. It was the painting “Liberty Leading the People” by Eugène Delacroix. Hong Cha-young can’t help but to smile when she remembered a certain event 5 years ago; it was the night when the Geumga tenants won over the group of people who were trying to destroy the Geumga Plaza. It was an historic night for them; it shows how courageous and brave they are. She closed her eyes, trying to reminisce about the exact event on that night.

But the image that came to her mind was a man, standing with pride in his expensive Booralro suit. 

‘Buona serata, mademoiselle.’

The italian greeting was whispered through her ears. The deep and soft voice was carved in her mind, it never left her since the day she met him. It’s been five years. Hong Cha-young was always waiting for his arrival. She did not even realize that five years had passed, the only thought in her mind was there’s someone who cares for her that lives on an island and someday, she will be able to live on his side; someday they will live the way they wanted to be.

As she awaits his arrival, she looks around and sees familiar faces she had encountered before. And as usual, it brought back many memories to her and that was the time when everything that happened were wrong and bad but it felt right because they were serving justice on their own; together with her mafia man, Vincenzo Cassano. 

She sighed and looked back at the first painting she had seen; everything went on in a blur and the night just ended. The visitors were keep on looking at her direction probably wondering why she just kept on standing on the exact place. She didn’t mind them but it made her uncomfortable. The stares were nothing what’s worst was the man he was waiting did not arrive like he had promised to her. Vincenzo Cassano did not arrive like what he did 1 year ago.

Hong Cha-young has no problem when it comes to waiting for someone. She’s willing to wait especially if the person promises her that he will come and see her. She’s willing to wait especially if she’s holding onto something; something that reassures her that everything will soon be alright.

She wanted to wait. But the feeling of giving up was gnawing at her slowly. She’s willing to wait but she was slowly getting tired without even noticing it. 

She waited. 

As she walked on the spacious hall wearing her white floral chiffon maxi dress with a dramatic puff sleeves pairing with silver three-inch stiletto heels, she saw familiar people who she encountered ten years ago when she was visiting the gallery. They became her colleagues as they noticed that every year she just kept on coming back and they decided to talk to her. And now, for the last time, she decided to visit the gallery she once used to go to whenever it’s time for the celebration of the diplomatic relationship between Korea and Italy.

She stopped in front of the painting “The Kiss” by Gustav Klimt. The painting shows lovers, wrapped up in each other, enfolded in their everlasting kiss. 

‘They looked in love just by looking at how they shared their kiss and embraced each other,’ she thought. 

“Eomeoni!” A boy, probably five years old, wearing blue long sleeves and black pants paired with black sneakers, ran towards Hong Cha-young. Her thoughts were interrupted when the boy called her. She looked at him as he stopped in front of her. The boy was smiling widely at her and she noticed the gold chocolate bar he was tightly holding. She bent down and reached for his head. She ruffled his hair.

“Look! Someone gave me a gold bar! A gold bar!” he exclaimed. 

“Who gave that to you?” Hong Cha-young asked. 

“A stranger I met in the bathroom!” Hong Cha-young forehead slightly creased. Although the gold bar brought memories of her past, she just thought that she should teach her son not to accept anything from someone he doesn’t know.

“Hm? Where’s your abeoji?” she asked.

“Sorry. We took so long to roam around the gallery.” Hong Cha-young stood up straight as soon as she heard the familiar voice. 

“Abeoji!” The boy raised his hands and as soon as the man arrived in front of them he crouched down and carried the boy. He stood up and grinned at Hong Cha-young. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I told you not to let go of him,” she stated. 

“I apologize, my wife. He’s just slippery—Aw!” Hong Cha-young pinched his shoulder. The boy giggled when his father exclaimed in pain. 

“Let’s get out of here. Let’s eat somewhere, shall we?” Hong Cha-young asked. The man immediately nodded.

“I’m starving. Where do you want to eat, my boy?” he asked the little boy in his arms. “Anywhere?” the boy answered, unsure of what he just said. Hong Cha-young smiled while lovingly looking at her husband and son. She was so lucky to have them. His husband looked at him and he extended his free hand towards her. He winked at her.

“Let’s go?” Hong Cha-young didn’t hesitate and she immediately took his hand. He stole a kiss on her cheek which made Hong Cha-young's eyes widen in surprise.

“Yah!—”

“Come on!” They walked hand in hand beside each other; their smiles were wide and their eyes twinkling with happiness. 

On the far side of the gallery, a man in his forties was standing beside a huge pillar. He was talking someone in the phone while looking at the retreating figures of the people he was tailing earlier. As soon as they entered the gallery, he immediately do his mission, it was to observe the family of three from a distance. 

“How is she?” the man from the other line asked. His voice was deep, a hint of tiredness can be heard from it. 10 years ago, the underground society was put under a chaos. The Famiglias have only two choices; it was to fight or die. Their Famiglia was engaged into a battle where they had to keep their loved one's safe and themselves alive. 

“She’s okay. Her son was already five years old. I actually gave him a gold chocolate bar which he gratefully accepted. She’s.....” a long pause, “happy.”

He had no choice but to abandon the promise he told her. It was to protect her from the danger of the world he lives in. If his enemies knew that he has someone he loves and truly cares, they will surely target her because she was his weakness. And he’s afraid to lose the only person who was keeping him from the darkness; he was afraid to lose his only light. In order to keep her safe, he has to let him go.

It was painful but he was happy he did that, ten years ago.

Because she’s happy now, living the ordinary life he can’t give her. Because no matter how he tries, he can’t leave the life his foster father gave him and he can’t just bring her into it, without destroying her virtue. 

“Grazie, Luca,” he said and ended the call. The night was cold, he could feel the breeze coming from the sea. He held the wine glass and stared at the vast darkness outside his massive window. 

“Buona serata, mademoiselle,” he softly whispered in the air. 

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, vincenzo and cha-young are exes, they were in a relationship before, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, Exes, Getting Back Together, Not Canon Compliant, i wrote this before ep 20, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut

Summary: Oh, how Cha-young wishes she could forget the past five years. Now that her anger has faded, she remembers clearly why she sealed herself in it; after anger comes sorrow, something she’s not sure she can overcome.

And just like the never-ending revolution of the Earth around the Sun causes the perpetual change of seasons — when flowers bloom after the frost melts and Spring follows Winter —, Cha-young finds herself knocking on Vincenzo’s door. They were two supernovas meant to collide and, although Cha-young wasn’t quite sure whether the impact would annihilate them or create a new form of life, she didn’t care.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Park Joo-hyung?”

He opens the door, letting her in. She marches on, the door closing in a thump behind her. She turns to face him, his jaw is set. Both of them follow the familiar steps of a tango they’ve danced before, playing the part of an opera they know the end to.

“How dare you threaten and intimidate someone close to me?” She screams.

“Is that what he told you? Did he mention the phone call—”

“This has nothing to do with your behaviour!”

“Of course it fucking has, Cha-young-ah” Vincenzo is losing his temper too, and for the first time since they’ve met again, he’s yelling.“That bastard’s cheating on you, for fuck’s sake! Did you just expect me to pretend I didn’t hear anything? I thought you said we should be friends. That’s what friends do.”

“Whether he’s cheating on me or not, that’s none of your business. And I take it back, I don’t want to be your friend, I don’t want to be your anything. Leave me alone.” Cha-young’s index finger is pointing at him, and suddenly she realises how close they’ve gotten in the heat of their argument. She’s flushed, anger shading her cheeks red.

“You’re the one who came to me.” He whispers.

She can feel his breath on her face, and it’s taking everything in her to not look at his lips. His intoxicating scent is making her feel dizzy. She bites the inside of her cheek, the sharp pain bringing her back to her senses. She takes a step back.

“Because you think you can just waltz into my life as you please, Vincenzo.” She’s not looking at him anymore, the edge in her voice softened.

“If that were true, we both know very well that your little boyfriend would be dead by now.” His lips curl. His tone might be playful but she’s not sure he doesn’t mean it.

He’s looking at her and Cha-young knows he’s trying to make peace. He’d never liked to argue with her in the past, and he especially hated screaming matches. To everyone else, Vincenzo was intransigent, intimidating or even frightening. However, during their relationship, and although he’d been stubborn, he’d always been strangely compromising. She started the fights and he ended them. He would crack a joke, apologise and kiss her hand. He would burrow his face in her neck, wrap his arms around her waist and mouth ‘Forgive me’ against her skin. She’d feign resistance until he’d start tickling her. Then, they’d laugh together, forgetting about why they fought in the first place.

Oh, how Cha-young wishes she could forget the past five years. Now that her anger has faded, she remembers clearly why she sealed herself in it; after anger comes sorrow, something she’s not sure she can overcome. Submerged by a wave of melancholy, she can’t hold back the truth anymore.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Vincenzo’s eyes widen, he’s stunned. A few seconds pass, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything, so she goes on. “I lied. I’m here with my employees, he’s my personal assistant.”

Finally, the weight of her words strikes him. “Why did you lie to me?” He asks quietly, his face unreadable. Was it so foolish of her to search for relief in his eyes?

She swallows the lump in her throat. “What, so you could see how pathetic I was without you?”

There it is.

In a few seconds, the man she loved would realise she’d always been nothing more than an empty shell on the shore, discarded by the seas. All her life, Cha-young had been abandoned by the people she cherished. Whether it was intentional or not, it seemed that no one stuck around for long. Contrary to what one might think, her father had been the first one to go. He’d stayed out late, prioritised his clients over his family and avoided them. Then, her mom had gone, her loss altering Cha-young’s life and identity so profoundly she had began to think of herself as split in two — pre-death Cha-young, the one who had been naïve and hopeful, and post-death Cha-young, the jaded and bitter adult who had designed her life around self-preservation. Later, when her dad passed away, abandoning her for the second time, she had promised herself that she wouldn’t let anyone leave ever again. She had wanted to protect those around her: the tenants, Babel’s victims’ families, the innocent.

Slowly, her partnership with Vincenzo turned into something deeper, into something more. She’d prepared herself, readying her heart; he would leave soon. But everything changed when he sealed the promise of forever with a kiss— or so she thought. Cha-young realised a heartbeat too late that she had mistaken an oath of love for an act of war; she had taken him prisoner, put him in shackles and thrown away the key.

Odysseus, the legendary hero set on an epic journey, had accidentally landed on Ogygia, and Calypso, the troubled nymph, had fallen in love with him. How could she not, when he was strong and beautiful, and she was lonely in her exile? She had held him captive as long as she could, but she had no claim over him, and the devastating sadness she had felt after he had escaped was laughable. He had deserted her, the last remains of their love piercing her heart like shards of glass.

“You’re not pathetic.” Vincenzo said firmly, interrupting her thoughts.

Cha-young turned away from him. “Drop it.”

“No. None of this is your fault, Cha-young-ah.” He closed the distance between them, and she could feel him right behind her. “I wanted to tell you later but— I legally changed my name to Park Joo-hyung. Wanna know why?”

“Because it was obnoxiously hard to pronounce?” Her attempt at diversion doesn’t work.

Instead, Vincenzo grips her arms and presses his forehead against her shoulder blades. She’s still not facing him, compelling herself to not look at him or touch him or feel him against her.

“I hated it so much that just hearing it made me sick. I hated myself, Cha-young-ah. Not because of the murders, the torture or all the atrocities I’ve committed— no.” He laughs wryly. “It’s because of what I did to you. Leaving you is the one sin I can’t seem to forgive myself for. And that is pathetic.”

She holds her breath. One. Two. Three. She faces him. Red eyes, hollow cheeks, desperation carving deep lines on his forehead. He looks like a tormented devil.

“What do you want, Vincenzo?” Cha-young whispers, an echo of the past.

Slowly, he locks his eyes on her. Those eyes, she thinks, they’re back.

“To repent.”

One. Two. Three. Cha-young grabs his face and kisses him. At first, Vincenzo stays still, hesitant. She’s about to break the kiss, reality catching up to her, when he opens his mouth and slips his tongue in hers. His hands grip her waist, bringing her closer, bringing her in. Her heart is beating so loudly she can’t hear herself think — or maybe she gave up on thoughts, and now she only feels. She feels him flush against her, she feels his hands; they burn her, leaving the imprint of him all over her body. God, how she had missed him.

There is no romance between them, only a visceral need to possess each other again. Soon enough, they’re on the bed, Cha-young on his lap, her hands pulling his hair so hard he hisses. Vincenzo bites her lower lip as retaliation and she rolls her hips against his erection, staring at him. He moans, head thrown back. Cha-young’s right hand cups his jaw firmly, making sure he’s looking at her. She wants to watch him fall apart, unravel under her touch.

“Take off your clothes.” What she asks, he does — rather awkwardly, she has to move off of him as he gets up, discarding his clothes on the ground without a care. He gets back on the bed from which she’d been watching him strip, lying next to her, completely naked. Their five years apart have somehow made him hotter, his upper body more toned, his biceps firmer. She counts a total of six or seven new scars, one of them still pink-ish and swollen. She reaches out, her finger following the gash running from his navel to his lower abdomen. He gasps when she doesn’t stop where the scar does — she continues on her way, surely, and takes him in her hand.

Vincenzo’s heavy breathing guides her movements, telling her when to stroke faster, when to slow down, when to twist. She stops right before he’s about to come, and the frustration in his eyes turns her on more than anything her last fling ever did.

“Don’t stop.” He asks, going in for a kiss.

Cha-young puts her hand on his mouth, “Tonight, I’m in charge, Joo-hyung-ah.”

His eyes light up and he smiles, “Yes, ma’am.”

Slipping out of her dress in no time, she climbs on top of him, taking his hands in hers and putting them above his head. There’s something thrilling about having him at her mercy, vulnerable under her. He’s hard against her thigh, and although he’s not talking, she hears his silent plea. Slowly, she sits on his cock, savouring the pleasant stretch; he feels so good, and her so full, at last.

“Oddio!” On his lips, God’s name becomes a curse.

She keeps a slow pace, it takes time to revisit a long-lost lover after all. She rolls her hips, turns, bounces. Once she’s figured out how to pleasure herself, she moves faster. Closing her eyes, she frees his left hand and puts it on her breast. Vincenzo is nothing if not an eager disciple trying to prove his worth, and so he caresses her enthusiastically, his thumb brushing against her hardened nipple. What a good boy, she thinks, before pressing her body against his, engulfing him in a kiss.

His hand finds her hair, cascading down her naked back. She kisses him everywhere — his lips, his cheeks, his neck. She needs to have him whole, to consume all of him, so she can keep him in her forever. She feels a familiar warm building up inside of her, but she’s not ready for it to be over yet. She stops bouncing on him abruptly and his eyes fly open, irked. She intertwines their fingers, and whispers, “Look at me.” Once again, he obeys her command, his eyes roaming her face, her breasts, her thighs. They go up and down, taking her in, devouring her. She feels hot under his gaze, and she picks up the pace. He parts his mouth, whimpering faintly. He thrusts back into her hard, and they find the right rhythm. Soon enough, Cha-young is there, right there, a white-hot flash of pleasure overwhelming all her senses.

“Cazzo!” He must have come too then. Fuck, indeed.

Cha-young is still on top of him, Vincenzo still inside of her. She rests her head against his chest, their flushed skin sticky with sweat. He’s playing with her hair absentmindedly, still trying to catch his breath. She looks up at him, and they kiss again, but this time it’s different. She feels it all, his longing, how much he’s missed her, how scared he is that this is all a dream. In this moment, she can’t tell where she ends and where he starts. She’s never been closer to him, never understood him as much as she does now.

Were the tears on her lips hers or his? The time for questions will come later, right now there’s only them, together — an ever-lasting moment they stole from the Fates.