#im not going to go into my reasoning as to why i have the disdain just see my prior post on this

[lordiavolo22]

just an fyi though, even though i talk about my disdain for ***********cishet********** men, this is not a t*rf or r*dfem safe space or blog. i am trans. cishet men is not codeword for trans women (because theyre women), i say cishet men to make it abundantly clear that i mean cishet men, specifically white cishet men!

[ozzgin]

Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭

-H❤️

Yandere! Android x Reader (II)

Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.

Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel

[Part 1] | [More original works]

The case had been solved.

Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.

"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"

You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.

"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."

"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"

He pondered your statement.

"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."

You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.

Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?

"When are you leaving, actually?"

The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"

"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.

"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."

"Whether you can go back?"

"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."

You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.

"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.

"Because I want to continue spending time with you."

Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.

"I don't believe you."

"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."

"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?

"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."

"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"

"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"

You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?

"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."

You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.

On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.

You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.

His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.

You noticed his hesitation.

"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.

Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.

He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.

"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.

"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.

You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.

“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”

Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment. 

“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”

“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”

He processes your words.

“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”

You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.

“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”

You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers. 

“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”

“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”

“No, most data is sampled randomly.”

You stare at him, confused.

“Then how-”

“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”

“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”

The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.

“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”

Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.

You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...

Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.

[icallhimjoey]

now you’re allowed to write again, this is a formal request for the smut pls 🤝🏼😌

okay so, im bringing back bet!joe for you, because part of your brand is privately requesting specific smut, so our double or nothing boy's back with a new bet! (lil tw: it's.... it's right there, in the request, 18+) Wordcount: 2.4K

---

All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“You’re wrong.”

He was wrong.

“Am I?” Joe smirked before he threw his head back to catch a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Izzy, please tell him he’s wrong.”

He was so, so wrong.

The flake of popcorn he then threw over that got stuck in your hair went vocally ignored – you just fished it out and threw it back, watched how Joe was chewing an open mouthful of his own, smugly smiling at your bad aim.

That flake landed on the floor about two feet away from him. Izzy picked it up as she walked past, already annoyed with the two of you before she’d even sat down.

Him visibly enjoying her disdain wasn’t exactly helping his case.

“Don’t get me involved in whatever you two do to get each other off.” Izzy commented as she sat down next to you to which you audibly gasped.

You were pressed into the corner of your sofa with a little bowl of crisps balanced on the side – your own one, because neither Joe or Izzy wanted any crisps. They wanted popcorn, so they got to share the big bowl.

With your flatmate slash best friend next to you, your legs pretty much filled out the entire sofa, leaving Joe sit by himself in the armchair and thus placing Izzy in between the two of you, right in line of your crossfire.

“We don’t–” you started, but the dropped jaw you’d had on show for a second too long had prompted Joe to chuck a whole handful of popcorn at you.

None actually made it into your mouth.

“I genuinely don’t need to hear about what does or doesn’t get you off.” Izzy raised her voice slightly as she looked at Joe, telling him off for throwing food. He immediately stopped his laughter and apologised by handing the bowl over to her before he sat back, giving you the opportunity to pick and drop all thrown flakes back into the bowl.

“Just, just take it from me that he’s– you’re wrong.” you urged, and Joe just laughed.

Izzy shook her head as she took a deep breath in through flared nostrils.

Joe took that to mean more than just sheer annoyance at being dragged into whatever childish fight you had going.

“Izzy knows what’s up,” Joe held up a hand, ready to high five her, absolutely willing her refusal to get into this argument with you as an agreement to him being right.

Which, he very much wasn’t.

Izzy ignored him though, left him hanging like a loser, which made you chuckle.

“Will you just, hear me out? Did you hear what he said just now?” you sat up a little, legs crossing in front of you as you turned to Izzy who was now finding whatever she said she wanted to watch on the TV, remote in hand, eyes trained on the screen.

“She did hear me, which is why she won’t.” Joe simply said, leaning back in his chair all relaxed, hands behind his head, legs crossing at the ankles as he placed them on the coffee table.

“No, but, listen. Joe said–”

“I don’t care what Joe said,” Izzy deadpanned. “These lovers quarrels ain’t it. I know you live here so I can’t just kick you out, but…” Izzy’s eyes flicked to Joe, which made him scoff in mock-shock before he let his face turn kind.

Sarcastically kind.

 “No, she’s right. It’s okay. I’m wrong. I’m wrong. I’m just a man, and what do I really know, right? You know, besides the fact that you have like, a billion more nerve endings than we do, which arguably should mean I’m right, just by the science and biology of everything, but, fine. I’ll be wrong if that makes you feel better. I accept my defeat.”

As Joe finished his small monologue, you were both frowning at him - for different reasons.

You, because he was being a little shit.

Izzy, because she was slowly trying to puzzle together what the fuck he was on about.

She then slowly turned her head towards you, eyes squinted in thought, and you sighed as you looked at her. You pretended Joe wasn’t able to hear you when you said, “Maybe you should kick him out, I’m not–”

“It’s 8000.”  She interrupted you sort of casually.

“What?”

“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, it’s 8000 nerve endings for you,” Izzy nodded at you, and then turned to Joe to nod at him, “And 4000 for you.”

Joe raised his eyebrows in slight surprise as he smiled, reaching for another hand of popcorn with one hand whilst pointing the other at you.

“See? Double! That’s double the pleasure!”

“What do you mean, see? Like that proves you’re right?”

“Are you forgetting that we’re talking about something I am witness to? You can’t make such wild claims when I literally know how you–”

“Oh, my God. Stop!”

Izzy rapidly turned her head a few times between the two of you, trying to follow along, before she muted the TV and sat back a little.

“All right, I’m too invested now. What the fuck is the problem…”

“She said women don’t care for orgasms.”

“That’s not what I said, you– No, Izzy,” you had to laugh at the vile facial expression she gave you. “That’s not what I said! I said that for me–”

“No, no no. You said for women.” Joe was quick to correct you, wagging a complacent finger at you.

“Sure, yes. Fine. For women, sex isn’t just about the orgasm at the end. Like, that’s not the most important thing. It’s not all about that.”

Izzy’s face dropped as she blinked slowly, and you saw how Joe was studying her face as he did his very best to keep his own laughter inside of his body.

“Don’t you agree there’s so many other things–”

“Shh shh,” Joe held up a hand, “Let her think.”

You obliged with an eye roll.

Joe was wrong.

“I don’t…” Izzy seemed at a fucking loss. What the fuck was this conversation she’d just accepted herself into? It was bad enough that these were sometimes the type of discussions held within your group of friends, wild accusations thrown over a table that you all got far too passionate about. It was a whole other thing to have two of those said friends now together, as a couple, having the debate in Izzy’s living room where the issue was wholly personal and, worst of all, inescapable.

She sighed as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

“Sex isn’t just about the orgasm, right?” you tried, speaking softly, praying she’d at least sort of agree with you. You knew she did, but didn’t know if she’s vocalise it in the moment because you also understood she thought you and Joe were being fucking ridiculous.

She just wanted to watch her favourite show on TV.

Have a quiet night in.

And yet, here you were.

Talking about if orgasms mattered or not.

“Oh, then what is it about?” Joe couldn’t help spatting out as he went for another handful of popcorn from the bowl Izzy had now placed on the table in front of him.

“Um,” you sat up more, now borderline sitting on your knees and nearly knocking off the small bowl of crisps behind you, holding both hands up, ready to count on your fingers.

“Foreplay, intimacy, being close, feeling connected–” you saw Joe slump back into his seat, pushing his chin up as he sarcastically nodded at you with squinted eyes and a deep frown.

It was stupid how that made you laugh whilst you also tried your best at raising your voice to make sure he was hearing what you were saying. To convey you weren’t lying. Which, you truly weren’t!

You continued, “Doing a fun activity together, it’s like quality time, isn’t it?” you tried, nudging Izzy, but not waiting for an answer as you quickly carried on with, “The attention, being appreciated– giving appreciation! Learning about each other! All of these things go both ways, Joe, there’s just… there’s so many things.”

You looked at him a second whilst he seemed to think it over. Just when his facial expression seemed to give way with a raised eyebrow and a small cock to the side of his head, you sternly demanded, “Admit you’re wrong.” which was exactly the wrong thing to say.

“I’ll admit those things are nice, sure.”

Joe threw back his handful of popcorn and wiped his hands, giving himself a moment to think of how he was going to phrase what he was about to say.

You and Izzy waited expectantly, both sets of eyes on Joe who seemed far too relaxed for a single guy sat opposite two women, making wild claims that he somehow would know more about sex from a woman’s perspective than they would.

He truly did believe that to be the case, though.

So wrong.

“But, if we’re not crossing the finish line, what’s the point?”

“Did you not listen to the whole list of things I just gave you?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“You absolutely are wrong.”

“I’m not only not wrong. I am also, right.”

Izzy, who had been quiet for a bit, stared into the space in front of her as she suddenly loudly scoffed.

“He’s wrong right?” you pushed just slightly, desperately needing your best friend to be on your side for this one.

“Listen,” Izzy started, holding up a hand. “I’ve…” she faltered, and you made eye contact with Joe, a little panicked, a little confused.

What if she was going to tell you that you were wrong?

Oh no.

Best friend betrayal.

If Izzy disagreed with you, she could be an adult about it and pretend, just for the sake of it, that you were right and then tell you about her real feelings later, outside of Joe’s earshot.

Bros before hoes and all that.

“The finish line is important…”

Yes.

You smiled as smugly as you could and saw Joe’s slowly fade.

Izzy was a bro.

Yes.

You could just feel how she was about to side with you on this before she’d even said the words.

“But if it’s between all that she said and just, as you put it, crossing the finish line... she wins. She’s right.”

There.

End of discussion.

You didn’t cheer, or high five your best friend, or point at Joe to shriek at him that he was an idiot. You just accepted Izzy’s answer and gave a small shrug that quietly said, “See?”

Izzy reached for the remote she’d put down, unmuted the TV, and Joe watched as the two of you got comfortable on the sofa together. How you sat back and reached for snacks and laid the throw blankets across your laps just right.

It was a little suspicious how long he stayed quiet, but you knew it would only be a moment for him to try and argue his case once more.

There was no point, you knew, but you also knew Joe had an ego that was fragile, like all men had egos that were fragile.

Male egos couldn’t just take hits like this one, even if he was outnumbered.

You were chewing on a crisp when, from the corner of your eye, you saw Joe’s finger wag from left to right, pointing at the two of you before he spoke.

“You can’t actually be serious…”

“Oh yea.” Izzy didn’t even look at him as she answered, and it was hard to hide your smile. “So serious.”

“So, you’re saying…” Joe sat up, both elbows on his knees, whilst neither of you moved. “You’d rather have sex and not come–”

“Half the time, that’s just life,” Izzy complained, and you both laughed.

Joe didn’t.

Your moment of haha-men-suck that had its feet stuck in truths had you laughing louder when you saw how Joe definitely wasn’t in on the joke.

When Izzy saw, she snapped her head towards you and stage whispered, “Uh oh…” through her giggles.

Joe scooted forward even further and doubled down, “You would rather have sex and not orgasm, than have an orgasm? Is that what you are saying?”

He needed to hear you say it.

“Joe… please accept that you’re wrong and let it rest.” You were very much trying to be the bigger person, which was easy when your friend had just helped you win the argument.

But then Izzy grabbed hold of your arm as she looked at your boyfriend.

“Careful...” she warned alarmingly. “I’ve seen that face before.”

“Tell me you mean that. What I just said. Say that you would rather have sex without an orgasm than one with one...” Joe ignored Izzy, dark eyes locked right onto yours, facial expression made of stone.

“No, that’s not...” you sighed, looked at Izzy, said, “He doesn’t get it.”

“He doesn’t get it.” Izzy echoed.

You were still making fun, unable to stop your giggles.

“Say what you mean, then.” Joe was still leant forward, was still staring you down, all serious and urgent.

“Can we just watch TV now, please?” Izzy interupted, increasing the volume of the TV slightly.

Joe didn’t falter in this weird staring contest he’d started, one you weren’t participating in.

You looked down at your bowl of crisps as you fished out another one.

You bit it in half and saw how Joe grew a little impatient as his eyes followed your hand as you fed yourself.

Then, you finally answered, “Sex isn’t about the orgasm.” And Joe immediately clapped his hands together loudly, making both you and Izzy jump slightly. He seemed incredibly pleased as he sat back in the armchair, rubbing his hands together before he pointed a quick finger at you.

“I’m going to prove you wrong.”

A startled laugh escaped you as you and Izzy shared a look.

“All right, good luck mate.”

This time, it was Joe’s turn to scoff, and that smug little smile from before made its return.

“Won’t need it. You just wait.”

You looked at each other for a moment, and you didn’t trust his confident bearing one bit, but were too stubborn to let your own satisfied smile fade.

“Fine.” you said challengingly.

Joe was wrong.

“Fine.” Joe copied.

So wrong.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[hyunjinspark]

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 15

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him.

there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned.

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au (kind of), star-crossed lovers

warnings: cursing, mature content, fancy drinking, mutual pining, sexual tension, so much angst, kissing, making out, dirty talk, fingering, grinding, dry humping, dom!hyunjin, jealousy, more angst

word count: 35K (ik the wc makes it feel v long but it’s really not that much haha)

a/n: im so excited to be coming back with this huge of a chapter for you guys. so much goes down and im insanely excited to share this next phase of my story with you. its v long so pls get comfortable with a blanket and snacks. I would recommend rereading the last chapter, if you can! thank you for still being here.

i recommend that you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

He had fucked up. Even in the dimly lit drive-in theatre, the guilt on his face was evident. Hyunjin had never looked this devastated.

“I need to talk to you” 

That’s what he had said. The gnawing feeling in your gut got worse. Those words together, in that order, was never a good sign. You knew as much, and you knew whatever he had to tell you was going to be something bad.

“Why did you leave in the middle of the film?” You asked, gaze darting between him and your friends.

Yuqi was staring wide-eyed, watching this unfold, soda cup clutched in her hands, and Felix…he looked beyond irritated.

The movie could still be heard all the way over here. You weren’t too far from the projection screen, and the speakers were right next to you. It was a horrible place to be having this conversation, but you couldn’t wait. 

What was he holding back?

You’d always felt the safest around Hyunjin, but every breath between you right now was uncertain. He was fidgeting, sliding the silver ring off and on his finger.

“I was on my way back to you when—” Hyunjin paused, and the veins in his neck were prominent as he strained to be heard over the movie, “—when Felix found me. He wanted to talk”

“Is Jisung okay?” You blurted, the first thing that came to your mind. He was nervous as hell, and that freaked you out.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, “No, he’s okay”

“Look. Y/N—“ Felix started, stepping ahead.

“Can I please just talk to Y/N…alone?” Hyunjin interrupted, turning to your friends. His frustration was new to you.

“Of course. Now you wanna talk to her” Felix scoffed, and your gaze drifted to him. You felt so out of the loop and everything was far too dramatic.

A laugh escaped you at the absurdity of this situation, “What is going on? You guys are acting like the world’s fucking ending or something”

“I’m sure it’s not that serious” Yuqi piped in, as a way to comfort you, and Felix glanced at her in disdain.

Hyunjin seemed to be physically struggling between appeasing you and Felix, but he focused his gaze on you.

“It’s not” He reaffirmed, pausing to breathe, “Obviously. It’s not… that serious”

“You sure?” Felix mumbled, taunting the situation, and you’d never known Felix to be the one to poke a bear with a stick. 

His presence only added to your confusion and annoyance. 

What was he doing here? 

Hadn’t he just told you he couldn’t be friends with you anymore? Or whatever the hell he was going to say before you were interrupted?

You glanced at him, and the anger from your previous unresolved conversation surged back, “Lix. Can you just give us a moment alone, please?”

His eyes locked with yours in silent agreement, “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want, Y/N”

“Yeonjun’s gonna be worried as hell about us” Yuqi spoke in a harsh whisper, grabbing him lightly by the forearm to lead him away, and even though you were embarrassed to have an audience, you were glad she was here.

You’d dragged everyone to the drive-in theatre tonight for the Jaws screening because it had seemed, at the moment, like a good idea. It was supposed to be one of the things on your bucket list. The list Hyunjin and you had made together.

A list of things to make you fall in love with your little town again, and you were only doing all of this because Hyunjin insisted. A silly excuse to be by his side, but it had worked. You’d seen the film they were playing tonight a dozen times, so yeah, you were only doing this so you could spend more time with him. 

Right now though, it didn’t seem like the greatest idea, and more like the culmination of a really bad plan. 

A confrontation you didn’t want. 

Knowing Hyunjin, he hated confrontations too. 

So, there must be a really fucking good reason why he was arguing with your best friend just now.

Felix mumbled something as they walked away, too quiet for you to catch amongst the sounds of the film. 

A cold breeze picked up.

The blinking yellow sign above you was malfunctioning, a buzzing sound escaping it, distracting you momentarily until Hyunjin’s face came into focus again.

He was so apprehensive, a concerned frown on his face. Guilty was not a good look on him.

You swallowed your anxieties, raising your voice louder, “Can you just please tell me what’s going on? You’re kind of freaking me out here”

“Nothing is going on like that, I promise. It’s just…Yongbok found something out and freaked out about it. He was upset at me but—”

“What did he find out?” You were impatient.

Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed, “He saw me earlier…at the station”

It took you a second to put two and two together.

“The train station…? What were you doing there?”

His eyes darted around the driveway, realising that this was probably the worst place to be having any kind of conversation. The noise of the horror film had drowned the two of you out.

“Can we go somewhere else? Where it’s quieter, please?” 

You didn’t think you had the patience. Your stomach turned every second that he didn’t tell you what was wrong. 

“Please?” He asked again, “I’ll tell you everything. I just want to get away from here”

What was so complex that he couldn’t just say it now?

It felt like a break-up except you and him weren’t even fucking dating.

Your gaze flickered over his face, frown lines on his forehead that didn’t suit him, and it was only now that you noticed the bags under his eyes. He hadn’t slept last night. He was too young to be so worried.

“Yeah, of course”

There was relief on his face at your agreement, shoulders relaxing, and he looked around.

The theater was in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Where would you even go?

Worry returned to his face, and you sighed, “There’s a loading dock, like a few minutes from here. It’ll be quieter there”

He nodded, following closely behind you as you led the way. 

You focused on the sound of your footsteps in the dirt to not completely freak out.

“Is everything with Chan fine?” You ended up asking.

“Yeah, he’s fine too” He fell quiet again, “I’m sorry you’re missing the movie because of me”

The noises got muffled as you moved further away.

“I really don’t care” You told him, “I’ve seen it before”

“Oh, okay”

You stopped at a chain-link fence, leading to a loading dock for various trucks and vans. It was dead right now, but it'd be brimming with life in the early hours of the day. 

“This is quiet enough”

This was also as far as your patience could go.

Hyunjin nodded, leaning his weight against the fence, running a hand through his hair, “I guess”

Another round of screams from the audience echoed through the area, and you shrugged, “Guess not”

He didn’t seem amused though, “They’re so loud”

“It is the best part of the movie” You told him, “They finally defeat the shark”

Hyunjin nodded, as if he’d forgotten what the movie Jaws was even about, “Right”

He looked like a wounded animal, afraid you’d get mad at him, but you didn’t even understand what you should be mad about. 

His hand peeked out from under his button-up sleeve. You reached forward, not thinking before slipping your fingers between his.

The gesture surprised him, and he glanced up at you with big eyes. He squeezed your hand, finding comfort in it.

“I was buying a ticket back”

You frowned, asking a question you already knew the answer to, “Back to?”

His breaths were shallow, in uneven intervals and his shoulders rose and fell with each anxious inhale and exhale. 

“Seoul” He clarified, biting his bottom lip. 

“Oh. Isn’t…it too early?” 

His gaze fell, eyes avoiding yours, “I was trying to tell you earlier, but I didn’t get the chance”

“Tell me now” You tilt his head up, fingers under his chin so he could look right at you.

He took in another deep breath, eyes staring into yours, “I…have to leave, Y/N. I have to move back to the city”

The words didn’t shock you.

That’s it?

You knew he had to leave. 

A weight lift off your chest at the familiarity of his confession, and you could breathe again, “Yeah. I…know that, Hyunjin”

His eyes widened, “You do?”

Your fingers settled on his jaw, to calm him, “I mean, I know that you can’t stay here forever. You were only here for the summer anyway”

Relief swirled his eyes at your calmness, “Um…yeah”

It felt anticlimactic. This was why he was so nervous, why Felix was so mad, why they were fighting?

You two stood so close, hand-in-hand, and this didn’t even seem like a big deal. Hyunjin wasn’t going to be holed up in this small town forever. Everybody knew it would always be temporary, so what was the drama for?

A breeze blew Hyunjin’s hair in his face, and you tucked the chestnut strands behind his ear, “Would you have to start packing soon?”

With that question, Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed again, “I already packed, Y/N”

“Already?” You laughed, there was a whole month left but he was already preparing, “You should’ve told me…I could’ve helped you.”

He frowned, and suddenly your name on his lips felt bitter, “Y/N…” 

Like it took effort to say, and like it broke his heart.

It felt like an apology, but you didn’t know what for.

You squeezed his hand, to let him know he had nothing to be sorry for, “Tell me…”

“No, you don’t understand. I’m — I’m not staying for the rest of the summer anymore”

Your heart squeezed, and suddenly you realised why he was so anxious. 

You needed confirmation, “You’re not?”

“I need to leave” He let out a breath, “Tonight.”

The words hit you like a punch to your gut.

Hyunjin explained further, to make sure you understood, but your head was already spinning, “My train leaves for Seoul… in a few hours” 

Your grip on his hand dropped, and you stopped touching him.

He stared at you for what felt like forever, eyes flickering between yours, “I’m sorry”

He’s sorry?

You had trouble speaking the words, “What? Tonight?”

His eyes were wide at your reaction, and at your tone. He thought you didn’t believe him.

And you didn’t.

Tonight was so soon, and in a few hours was fucking insane.

As you processed his words, the silence stretched for seconds, excruciatingly long.

He felt a stupid need to fill in the void, “My manager’s coming to pick me up. He doesn’t want me to make the journey back alone. He’s worried about a crowd at the station, in case the information leaked—”

Hyunjin kept talking, and explaining, but you’d stopped listening.

What the fuck was he even saying?

All of these technicalities.

You couldn’t even still process what he’d told you.

Yeah, you knew he had to leave but you didn’t think it’d be tonight. 

You didn’t think it’d be right now.

You weren’t prepared.

Each word he spoke was a lightning bolt to your heart, ripping chasms open in the perfect day you’d just had. 

It couldn’t be. You had so much planned with him. You hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet.

The sky lit up in bright white, blinding you.

You hadn’t even told him that you loved him...

The wind picked up, dust blowing into your eyes but you didn’t care. The lightning wasn’t just within you. There was a storm coming.

Hyunjin glanced up at the sky; dark clouds suddenly looming over you, but that was the least of your worries. 

“We should get inside” He realised, reaching for your hand, but you stepped away from him, pulling your hand out of reach.

His eyes were wide at the rejection.

“I’m sorry. You said that you’re leaving in a few hours?” You asked again, hoping this was just a horrible fucking joke, and you heard him wrong.

But he fucking nodded, not saying anything. 

Your stomach was beginning to hurt, a shooting pain through your body, and you felt dizzy.

Bile rose up to your throat at the suddenness of everything, “I don’t understand. You said you didn’t have to go back, not until the end of summer and—”

“I know” He interrupted, “I know that’s what I said, but things changed. The company needs me back, I don’t have much of a choice”

“But what about Kkami…and about the art classes?” Stupid questions, when all you wanted to ask was something else. 

“I canceled the classes yesterday, and Minho said he’ll look after Kkami until my aunt comes back to town”

Of course.

“Oh”

Of course he’d figured everything out. A man as precise as Hyunjin, of course he’d already solved for all the problems you couldn’t even foresee.

But what about you?

Your gaze fell from his, heart falling deep into your gut and maybe that explained the pain in you. You didn’t even know what to say. It was so much information, to process all at once, and pathetically, you mumbled, “I thought I’d have more time with you”

“I know, Y/N. I...thought so too” His voice was too soft, too calm, “But I’m sorry that we don’t”

Was he not affected by this? Why was he so calm?

In a few hours, he would be more than a hundred miles away from you.

That wasn’t okay.

But he seemed perfectly fine right now.

How long had he known this?

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before” He swallowed, and stepped closer. His hands glided up your arms, coming to rest at your shoulders. He squeezed the skin there, and maybe he thought it was comforting, but it just felt suffocating.

Your chest was pounding so hard you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

You were still confused, so many questions in your head, “But that doesn’t explain why Felix was fighting with you”

Hyunjin sighed, “He…he thought that I wasn’t going to tell you”

There it was.

Your eyes narrowed, darting up to his, a new fear sinking into you, something you hadn’t even considered, “Wait. Were you not?”

His eyes widened, but his voice gave him away, “No. I was going to—”

You took another step back, and he dropped his hands from you.

“You weren’t even going to say goodbye, Hyunjin?”

He hesitated before speaking, “I was”

“When?”

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me? If you’ve already bought a ticket. You’ve already cancelled the classes. You’ve…packed everything. You’ve already given Kkami away. So, when…were you going to tell me?”

He squeezed his eyes shut.

And it was enough.

“You’re fucking kidding me”

“Let me explain, please--”

Another flash lit up the sky.

Thunder ripped through the atmosphere, and the sound startled you both, making you look up.

It wasn’t raining, not yet, but it would soon.

Immediately, you heard scrambling over at the drive-in theatre. All of the people would be exposed to the rain, and now they’d have to pack it up, and leave.

How fitting for a storm to pass through right fucking now.

You looked back at him, because this wasn’t like him.

The Hyunjin you’d come to know…would never blindside you like this.

You stepped further away, your sneakers tripping over the dirt and Hyunjin reached out to steady you, but you ripped your arm back, “You were just going to leave”

“I tried telling you yesterday, in the forest! You were the first person I was going to tell” Hyunjin exclaimed, eyes wide in what you could only recognise as despair.

In the forest, when you’d taken him to see the fireflies. Hyunjin had said he wanted to tell you something. He was trying to tell you this?

Sourness developed in your mouth, “What? Yesterday?”

“But you stopped me. You kissed me, and you said you didn’t want to know”

Your sadness was suddenly replaced by embarrassment, and bitterness.

“So…it’s my fault?”

“What? Of course not. That’s not what I’m saying”

Your emotions were toppling over, and you couldn’t manoeuvre them anymore.

You felt a surge of hopelessness, because he didn’t understand how important this was to you.

How important he was.

“If it was so important, you should have told me anyway! I obviously would have understood, and stopped kissing you. I’m not that dense, or …needy”

Hyunjin’s eyes were wide, like he couldn’t believe you.

“I know that you’re not. Of course, you’re not” He repeated, stepping towards you, “I knew how upset it would make you, and I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t want to ruin the time we had left”

There was no justifiable reason for you to be this sad. He was only going to be a few hours away from here, but you’d dreaded the day he’d leave ever since you met him.

His life in the city was a whirlwind, and he didn’t have time for anything.

How would you ever stay in his life, or keep him in yours?

Your voice was shaky, “I’m not upset at you, Hyunjin”

“Really? Because it looks like you hate me right now” He laughed.

You sighed, looking him in the eye, “Of course not”

“I just don’t understand why I’m the last to know. You said that your manager is coming to pick you up…and you’re worried the information would leak. So does everybody know you’re coming back or something?”

He nodded slightly, as if his answer would hurt you, “The media knows. There’s going to be a crowd at the station, in the city when I get back”

So if you waited a few more hours…the morning papers would have told you anyway.

The thought almost made you want to laugh, or cry.

“We were having such a good time, at the Creek, and…I didn’t want to kill the mood, obviously I was right, because you’re so upset right now”

“Right. I’m sorry for being upset that you’re leaving Hyunjin”

He pulled you towards him, “Stop, please. This is…not how I wanted tonight to go”

“Then how did you want it to go?”

“I wanted to…stay up with you, and talk to you, and listen to you...until I can”

It sounded tempting. You’d do anything to have that.

But he was leaving tonight.

“Do you know when you’ll come back?”

“What?”

“To Daejon. Do you know when you’ll come back?”

He hesitated, “I don’t know. A couple of years, maybe then…”

“So after tonight…you have no idea when we’ll see each other again?”

“Yeah, but…you can visit me in Seoul, right?” He asked, a hopeful lilt to his tone.

Your head was still spinning, “Were you going to stay in touch with me?”

“Yeah. I was going to give you my new number—”

“Your new number?” You were confused.

“I have to change it…every few months. For safety”

Another lightning flash lit up his face, and then the first drops of rain followed. They wet your hair, dripping down your face, masquerading as tears.

“Yeonjun would be wondering where I am”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, but you needed to fixate on something else or you’d go insane.

“I have to tell him” You mumbled, more to yourself, reaching for your phone in your back pocket, but you’d left it back in the truck. A frustrated groan escaped you.

“I can tell him” Hyunjin spoke, immediately, pulling his phone out to text him. You watched as he did so. The bright phone lit up his face, as he typed in a text, but from here, you could see his fingers trembling.

The vendors were rushing to close all the food shops before the rain came in. The sound of people scrambling with their blankets and snacks to get inside. Car doors being shut, and engines being started.

“Please just let me explain, so you can understand what’s going on in my head”

You needed to calm down. This was always going to happen, and you shouldn’t be surprised. You shouldn’t be heartbroken and so fucking weak. 

You nodded, “Go ahead”

He grabbed your hand in urgency but you didn’t stop him, “I knew how upset it would make you, and I’m so fucking sorry. I knew the moment that I told you, it would be real, and is it crazy if I wanted the summer to last longer? I was being selfish and I wasn’t thinking”

You took a deep breath, his words calming you down by the second, “It’s not selfish. I..I’m sorry. I just thought you were hiding it from me, and…I got upset. How long have you known?”

“Barely two days” He admitted, and then, “That’s kind of why I was rushing through your list”

A laugh escaped you, at the lost innocence of that sentence, “What? My list is not… important, Hyunjin”

He frowned, “It was to me…”

The cold water draped over your forehead, dripping down your eyes, tracing your nose, falling into your mouth. You should be sane, and walk out of this storm before you both fell sick. Hyunjin was just watching you, and you think his heart was broken too. For a reason different to yours.

“A few hours…” You realised, and you were already losing time.

He squeezed your hand, “If you would let me, I’d like to spend them with you”

The rain intensified, transforming into a downpour, drowning out the last of his sentence. Everybody must have left the drive-in theater by now and that meant it was just you and him in the middle of this summer storm.

You felt like a broken record, “I wish I knew”

“Why?” He bent down to your height, voice softening, “It…wouldn’t have changed anything”

You took in a deep breath. He was right.

It wouldn’t have changed anything.

His eyes were exploring yours, apologetic, and you could understand what went on in his head. If you could spare Hyunjin the pain of something sad, you would have done the same.

He was getting drenched in the storm, and you’d feel guilty if he fell sick because of you, “Are you okay?” He asked you.

You suddenly felt numb. 

Why shouldn’t you be okay?

“I’ll only be a few hours away from you” He reassured you, and then chuckled softly, “It’s not like I’m moving to another country”

A loud honk pulled you out of the conversation.

Yuqi’s truck was to the side, parked on the dirt road, and Yeonjun was poking his head out of the window, “What the hell are you two still doing out there?”

You looked back at Hyunjin, swallowing, “We should go”

“Come on” He spoke, guiding you towards the car with his hand on your back. You rushed inside, arms around yourself to be warm. He went around the back, getting in through the other side, and he was completely soaked, hair dripping, “Sorry for getting your seats wet, Yuqi”

She told him it was fine, and Yeonjun turned round to ask, “Am I taking you straight home then, Y/N?”

Yuqi gave you a sympathetic look in the rearview mirror. Felix must have told her what the argument had been about.

You glanced at Hyunjin. He thought you were angry at him. Well, you were a bit. But never enough to ignore him like this. This was his last night here. Everything felt so sudden, and rushed, and you weren’t sure you’d even understood it, but you had be mature about this.

“No, I’m…not going home” You told Yeonjun.

Hyunjin raised his eyebrows, as if to ask if you were sure.

He was crazy if he thought you’d let him go without even saying goodbye.

“Can I come to your place?”

He nodded, in a single breath answering, “Of course”

Every second spent arguing over this was one less second with him. Yeonjun drove away from the loading dock, and time was slipping away and you glanced at Hyunjin. He was looking out at the town as it passed by, and he looked so fucking lost…or nostalgic.

Daejon passed by in a blur, as you drove to his house.

It would be selfish of you to think you were the only one affected by this. He was the one who would have to go back the life he’d left behind.

You drove past Aera’s, and Hyunjin’s gaze lingered on it, long after you’d already passed it. The car ride was quiet, other than the music Yuqi was playing, but you’d tuned it out.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows were furrowed as he watched the blur of trees and homes and places you’d come to spend all of your time in this summer. It was like he was trying to take everything in but Yeonjun drove faster than his memories could catch up.

His hand was on his thigh, fingers trembling still, and you don’t know if it was from the cold or if he was scared. 

Your heart squeezed in your chest. 

You reached over without thinking, hand settling over his, and immediately, he was calm.

»»————-

Hyunjin’s room was ripped bare. 

The art had been taken off the walls, the paint canisters had been stashed out of sight, the mattress was naked of the blue sheets and comforter you’d grown to love.

Cardboard boxes lay under his window, taped up and sealed shut.

His art wasn’t decorating the room anymore, instead it lay packed under layers of bubble wrap and paper.

It was strange, because you’d only been here a few times, enough to count on one hand, but it felt like a loss. Empty rooms always made you sad. It signified the end of something.

Yeonjun’s room had stayed empty, and even when he visited home, he’d live out of his suitcase. After all, nobody took the time to hang back picture frames on the walls. 

Your gut tinged with sadness.

Hyunjin stood at the other side of the room, arms crossed, emanating a calm silence.

Your eyes met his, a strange resignation within them. You hugged yourself, arms coming round your body in a comforting embrace. 

The room was far too barren for your liking, but compared to outside, at least it was warm here.

With difficulty you found the words, “How does it feel? To see your room like this?”

He cleared his throat, and his hair was still wet, chestnut strands sticking to his skin, “Honestly?”

“Yeah”

“I don’t feel anything”

Maybe that was the saddest answer you could hear. 

Your indignant look made him clarify further.

His Adam’s apple bobbed before he spoke, “I…I know that’s weird. I thought I’d be sad, but I don’t really feel anything”  

“I get that” You nodded, leaning against the wall, movements mirroring his. 

“You do?” He tilt his head, fiddling with the pendant around his neck.

You did get him, but you can’t seem to elaborate.

After all, you’ve never had to deal with anything of this nature. 

You’ve lived in the same place your whole life. The same room. The same bed. The same view from your window every morning and night.

How could you know what goodbyes felt like?

“I thought I’d be sadder” He continues upon your silence, “I just don’t feel much of anything, and that makes me…feel sad. Shouldn’t I be just a little upset?”

“Maybe you haven’t processed it yet?” You offered.

He shook his head, frown lines on his forehead, “It’s not that”

You couldn’t comprehend what he felt, and all you could do was guess, “Maybe it’s too soon” 

His eyebrows shot up, as if he realised something utterly significant about himself. Yet he didn’t share it with you. He slipped his hands deeper into his pockets, adjusting his posture against the wall.

A black suitcase stood between you, and you wonder what he’d put in it. What was he taking with him? It was strange to imagine that his entire summer here had fit into just those four cardboard boxes. There must have been things he discarded, or gave away.

What did he leave behind?

“So…how will you take all this stuff back?” You asked, gesturing over to the boxes.

“I’m not. I’m just taking my luggage with me” He explained, “I just packed everything else so it’d be easier for my aunt to take care of the house when I’m gone”

When he’s gone.

“That’s thoughtful of you” You smiled, gazing at the other boxes pushed under his bed, “What about your art supplies? Are you taking them too?”

He shook his head, chuckling nervously, “No, I had no space in my bag”

Your eyebrows shot up, “How are you going to paint when you’re in the city then?”

“I doubt I’ll have time at first” He admit.

Your heart clenched. Another loss.

“But…when I do, I’ll just get new supplies” He continued, so simply.

Your eyes narrowed, “Hwang Hyunjin… do you have any idea how expensive art supplies are?”

A hint of a smile appeared on his face, “I know, but I have no choice. There’s an art shop in Hongdae. I’ve passed it a hundred times. I think I’ll finally visit it”

“You’re going to forget all about Aera’s then” You frowned.

He hummed, smiling at you, “I could never”

You smiled, and a comfortable silence fell upon you.

He moved across his room to sit against the desk, “I am kind of sad about putting away all my art though. They’re just going to collect dust forever”

“Maybe you can put them back up when you come back” You suggested.

He nodded, “Right. When I’m back.”

He traced a hand against his empty desk. Just a few days ago, it was full of clutter, flower vases, and pretty candles, and pencils of different sizes. The first night he’d come to Aera’s he’d bought a little canvas and a single pencil from you.

That was so long ago, and you smiled to yourself at the memory.

“You’re really not going to miss home, and your room?” 

“I have something of yours” He interrupted, ignoring your questions entirely.

“Oh…okay” Is all you can seem to muster.

He pulled open the drawers, and you move towards him. He’d cleared out everything from within them too. Including all his paint supplies, his knick-knacks, the hair ties… and that box of condoms you saw once…

Was he leaving that behind?

Or had he packed that too?

Maybe it’d be useful to him in the city.

The thought made you choke up, and you turned away, giving him space to look for whatever he was looking for. 

He finally pulled open the last drawer, and spoke, “I found it when cleaning, and uh, I don’t know how but I forgot to return it,”

You stepped forward to take a glimpse, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

“My sketchbook!” You realised, recognising the torn-up leather cover. 

Pulling it out, you flipped it open, seeing the sketches you made on countless train journeys, “Honestly…I didn’t even know you have this”

Hyunjin laughed, and your gaze darted to his.

It was the first he’d laughed like this since he’d told you he was leaving.

“I promise I didn’t steal it or anything” He admitted, “You never took it back after Felix’s birthday”

“That was ages ago. I guess I have far too many sketchbooks to keep count” You hummed, flipping further through the book, seeing the drawings Hyunjin had filled it with on the journey, when you’d given it to him. You felt him move closer to you, body stopping right behind yours.

You traced your fingers against the ink, trying not to get distracted by his breathing on your neck, “The beach cabin. You drew it”

Hyunjin nodded, looking over your shoulder at the picture, “I did. That was…a good night”

You craned your neck to look at him, a laugh escaping, “Really? I felt kind of bad for dragging you along for that whole trip. Ended up being pretty shitty”

He smiled, eyes flickering over you, “Not all of it”

You flipped to another page, but Hyunjin’s hand reached out to stop you. You looked at him questioningly.

“Uh…you can go through that later. We don’t have much time”

You nodded, keeping it aside. He walked over, sitting on the mattress, and stared out through the window. It was still raining fiercely, a thunderstorm raging outside.

 “If it wasn’t raining, we could have gone stargazing” He realised.

The disappointed in his tone pulled at your heartstrings, “Maybe it’ll pass soon”

He shook his head, “No, I checked — It’s going to be cloudy till noon tomorrow. I’ll already be gone by then”

“Oh”

It was hard to put his words into comprehension. 

He was really going to be gone. 

You’d gotten so used to seeing him all the time, everywhere. He would show up at your job, and he would go around town with you, and a part of you felt like he’d always be here to do that.

After a while, he sighed, “I guess I was looking forward to doing something cool with you…before I have to leave”

You stared at the rain, the droplets trailing down his windowsill, racing to the bottom, “This could be nice too. It hasn’t rained like this in months”

He nodded in silent agreement, and you watched the downpour, quietly, stealing glances at him. There was a sense of awkwardness and emptiness in the air. 

He wasn’t being honest with you about everything, but you didn’t want to push. It felt like he was holding back yet again, and you wish he’d just tell you everything on his mind.

Flashes of lightning lit up his face every few minutes, and he looked out at the dark garden like it held all the answers to life, and the universe. 

“Hyunjin…” You spoke.

He glanced at you, and his eyes looked sad. 

You were counting down the fleeting moments left with him. Was he too?

It broke your heart. Why was he so quiet when you only had a few hours together?

You couldn’t push him, but each second mattered.

So you walked over to him, kneeling on the floor so you could look at him, “What’s wrong?”

His eyes darted between yours, lips parted, as he thought over your question.

“I don’t know” His voice quivered.

You placed a hand on his leg, to ground him, “You wanted me to come over”

He swallowed, “I did”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to be alone right now”

“You’re not” You assured him, patting lightly on his knee, “What are you thinking about?”

“Shouldn’t I feel sad?” He asked, “Something has to be wrong with me”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“You asked me earlier if I will miss Daejon, but I only feel numb. I cried when I left Seoul, but why do I feel nothing leaving here?”

His words were heavy, and you don’t know if you were qualified to answer him, because you were too emotionally invested in this, and in him.

“Maybe you haven’t processed it yet”

He looked back at the garden, fence, and skies, “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m going to be back in the city tomorrow. It feels like a world apart, and I can’t really grasp leaving this”

“I mean, it is a world apart, Hyunjin”

He looked at you, “I feel like I never got the chance to settle here. It’s been so temporary. I always knew I was only here for a little while, and I can’t get myself to feel sad”

“It’s not like… an obligation, Hyun. I can’t imagine how it feels like to live two places. If you don’t feel a certain way, you can’t force it”

He nodded, quietly staring ahead at his garden.

He was stuck between two places, and two lives. He’d always told you about that. 

Even though he wasn’t sad, he didn’t seem happy either, so you said, “What are you looking forward to the most when you get back?”

“Meeting the guys” He responded, in a heartbeat, and then smiled at his own eagerness, “I’m also excited to just be able to do my job again”

“Yeah?” You asked, taking a seat next to him so you could be level with him, “Do you already have your schedule for the next few weeks?”

He nodded, “Mmh. It’s kind of crazy, but it’ll be nice to be that busy again”

You shifted closer to him, as did he, with the pouring rain in backdrop. It was isolating, but comforting, “What else?”

“Hmm?”

“What else are you excited about?”

Hyunjin’s lips pulled up into a smile, “To step into the dance studio. Man, I’ve missed that more than anything”

You smiled, “Yeah?”

“When I was a trainee, I basically slept there.” He hummed, and despite the obvious hardships he hinted at, his memory came from a place of fondness and comfort.

His eyes crinkled as he remembered something else, “It’s funny. It happened so often. Our manager installed a small bench there, so I could pass out on it, instead of killing my back on the hardwood floor”

“Wow. That’s so nice of him” You smiled, watching his eyes lit up talking about his home.

“I also can’t wait to get back to the recording studio. Chan told me details about the next album. Apparently, he, uh, wants me to have a couple of my own songs on it”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, what do you mean?”

As far as you knew, all of their songs were written by his team members.

“Um” He laughed nervously, crossing his legs, “Like songs I write just by myself, and produce”

“I didn’t know you write songs” You admitted, feeling stupid. Sadness settled in your stomach, as you realised there was so much you still didn’t know much about Hyunjin. 

There was so much you wanted to know, to discover about him. 

Hyunjin laughed, “I try to, I haven’t released my own yet. The guys usually take care of that, so this will be a first…I don’t even know what I’ll write about”

“But…have you written songs before?”

He nodded, “I used to write a lot on tour, but I never really felt confident enough to release them”

Curiosity flooded you, “What kind of things do you write about?”

He laughed, “You’ll be disappointed, it’s kind of cheesy…and mainstream”

“I don’t care”

He smiled, “You’ll be the first to hear if I finish”

“Are you excited to see Chan?”

He laughed, “Insanely. Jisung and Binnie too. I can’t believe I went so long without them. Hopefully they haven’t burnt the dorm down”

He grimaced at the thought, and then laughed, “And Jisung…man, I think I’ll squeeze the life out of him when I see him, and not let go. He’s been through far too much in my absence”

“They must be missing you a lot” You spoke, watching his fond smile. 

You would miss so many moments in his life. 

Crucial moments that would redefine him as a person.

You would miss the excitement in his eyes when he reunited with the boys again. You’d miss the work he would put into the self-composed songs, and the satisfaction of his smile when he finished.

So many little and bigger moments of happiness, the kind of things that make a person. 

The next time you saw him, he’d probably be so different from who he was now. 

You would both have changed as people, grown apart from each other.

But he was smiling at everything he had to look forward to, and that’s all you wanted in the moment. For him to feel happy.

“We still have a few hours left. It’s your last night. Is there anything in particular you wanted to do?”

Hyunjin tilt his head, “I didn’t really plan for anything… I was just hoping you’d spend it with me”

He already seemed so much more relaxed, and you were glad. 

“Do you need help cleaning anything or packing up?”

He shook his head, “I think everything’s done but…we could have drinks together, if you want?”

His last night in town should be memorable.

“That sounds perfect” You smiled, getting off the bed, as you followed Hyunjin back to the kitchen. 

He had changed from his storm-drenched clothes into simple sweatpants, and they fit him well, sitting comfortably on his hips. The hoodie was also simple, and it looked soft enough to touch, like it was made from the finest wool in the country.

“What do you usually like to have, Y/N?” Hyunjin reached up to the cabinets at the very top, his height allowing him to do so with ease, “I know that you liked the rosé when we went to the paint event, and I know that you absolutely hate beer”

You laughed at the memory, jumping up to sit comfortably on the kitchen counter. Hyunjin glanced at you briefly, smiling to himself at the position, and how you’d made yourself at home.

You thought about it, but you weren’t a big cocktail drinker, so you hummed, “I’ll have anything you’ll have”

“You’re easily influenced” He laughed, “What if you hate my taste?”

You smiled at him, swinging your legs gently against the counter, “I trust you”

He made a face, “Now I have to live up to your unrealistically high expectations of me. Isn’t that too much pressure for my last night?”

You threw your hands up in defense, “You’re the one who suggested we have drinks, Hyun”

He smiled, peering at the alcohol he had in his cabinet. There wasn’t too much, since he rarely lived here, and you don’t suppose his aunt was a big drinker.

“Have you ever tried a Dolce Vita?” He asked you, the drink's name slipping from his lips so smoothly, and you guessed it was Italian from his pronunciation, but Hyunjin made it sound so expensive.

“Can’t say that I have” 

He stepped towards you, body touching your legs, but still not close enough, “I think it’s your kind of a drink”

“What makes you say that?” You tilt your head.

He thought over his words, mulling them in his head, “It’s…classy. It’s elegant, and it’s…romantic”

You stilled, watching him describe it.

 “It’s pink, and…it has dark chocolate on top” He continued, and then smiled to himself, “It fits you really well”

You smiled, heat flushing to your chest, and cheeks, “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t have all the ingredients” He spoke, a soft pout on his lips, “But I can make you another drink, that you might like”

“When did you even learn all these recipes? I didn’t know you’re a connoisseur”

He laughed, stepping back towards the cabinet to check the ingredients, “I’m not, but Chan taught me a few. He and Kairi…make their own cocktails a lot”

“I hope I can meet them one day” You spoke.

Hyunjin glanced at you over his shoulder, “You’d love Kairi. She’s…so much like you”

You thought, still swaying your legs, “Does that mean Chan would love me too?”

He chuckled, and his shoulders shook from the action, “He kind of already does”

It was still pouring outside, and you looked at the droplets cascading down the kitchen window. It was kind of nice to be trapped in this house with him. It was a big place too, and it was empty, and just the two of you. It was like you were two kids playing house. 

Hyunjin was fiddling with different liqueurs, and you could hear the clinking of glasses, and spoons as he moved things around on the counter. You would help him if you could, but you had no experience in mixology and he had it handled. It was calming, to listen to the thunder, and just sit here.

“What are you making now, Hyun?” You asked, fiddling with the cuts in your jeans.

“It’s called the Queen of Hearts”

You laughed, “I have never heard of these names. Are they just for rich people…or something?”

He tsked, shaking his head “I’m not that rich, Y/N”

“Statistically speaking, you’re…like in one of the biggest bands in our country” 

He smiled softly at you again, “How do you know that? Did you read about me online?”

“Maybe I did” You flushed, “Sometimes you show up on my Instagram. Your fans are very loyal, you know?”

He laughed, turning around to look at you, and you could see he was shaking a liquid in a glass, “I sure hope you don’t believe everything you see about me though. There’s a lot of false news out there”

“So, what, you haven’t dated like every female pop star in the country?” You teased him, exaggerating.

He rolled his eyes, turning back to the counter, to put the glass down, “Did someone actually say that I did?”

“Of course not” You smiled, “That wouldn’t be a believable rumour”

“You’d be surprised what people believe” He laughed, and then paused to say, “I’ve only ever dated one”

Your eyebrows shot up, “A pop star?”

“Yeah”

You looked at him, and you were so curious suddenly, albeit a lot of it stemmed from envy. Whoever had the honor of dating Hyunjin…did they know how lucky they were?

Was in he love with her?

Was she?

You imagined it in your head — the dates he would go on, and the kind of romantic things he would say. He was already such a nice person to you, and you two were just friends. What would he be like…with the girl that he loves?

A pit of jealousy settled in your stomach, so deep, that it ached.

“So, um, I added less liquor to yours just so you can taste it. If you like it, I can give you some more” He spoke, turning to delicately hand you the wine glass. The drink was the color of champagne. 

You peered at the drink, “What’s in it?”

He tilt his head, thinking, “It’s a bit of gin, wine, and…some lemon juice. For the sweet flavour, I added a syrup to it. It’s dahlia…I think you’ll love that”

You stared at him as he explained it, “You’re kidding me”

You reached for the glass, but he immediately pulled it back before you could.

“Wait! I forgot something”

“What?” You laughed, “What else could possibly be missing? The tears of angels?”

He rolled his eyes, “Ha-ha”

You tried to grab it, “Just give it to me. I’m sure it’s fine”

He shook his head, pulling the drink away from your hold, “No, this is the last drink I’m making you. It has to be perfect”

“It’s also the first drink you’ve made me” You pointed out.

He laughed, holding up a finger, “Give me just one minute. I’ll be back”

He placed the glass back on the countertop, and slipped his shoes on.

“Wait, what?”

“I have to run to the garden for something” He told you over his shoulder.

“But there’s a storm out” You exclaimed, dumbly.

He pulled the hood up, looking back at you as he zipped it up fully, “I’ll be fine”

“Hyunjin, don’t go” You laughed, “I’m sure the drink is fine without it”

He shook his head, and he was already halfway out the door. As soon as he pushed open the wooden door, a gust of wind blew in, bringing with it tiny leaves and some rain. The thunder was so much louder now that the door was open, and Hyunjin ran out, shoes put on halfway, and it was so silly that he was doing all this for just a drink.

You waited with bated breath, but you couldn’t see out into the garden from here, so you had no idea what he was up to.

Minutes passed, and you waited in his kitchen, sat on the countertop.

“Holy shit. It’s fucking pouring!” He yelled, running back inside, and he was completely wet, from head to toe. He slipped off his shoes at the back entrance, walking to you barefoot.

“Oh my god” You mumbled, watching the water drip off him, “I told you it was a bad idea”

His fist was closed around something, and you wonder what he got from the garden.

He grabbed your wine glass, and dropped something in it, “You’ll change your mind after you try this”

He then smiled proudly, handing it to you.

Your eyes widened, as you peered into the glass. 

A pretty flower floated on top of the gin, its pink petals wet from the liquid, giving the entire drink an illusion of a pastel paint.

“A flower?” You asked, giggling in disbelief.

“It’s edible” He explained, smiling still, “It’s perfect for you”

“Did you get one for yourself too?”

“Mmh” He nodded, showing you his. The flower floated on the top beautifully, dissolving partially into the liquid. Your drinks looked beautiful together, ethereal and completely fitting to who Hyunjin was as a person.

“Aren’t you cold?” 

“I am” He admitted, and then looked just a tad regretful, “But I packed away all my spare clothes”

“Maybe you should’ve thought this all through” You giggled.

“To be fair, I wasn’t thinking” He shrugged, “It’s fine. It’ll dry out”

He reached behind his neck, peeling off his grey hoodie. The white t-shirt he wore inside rose up with the simple action, revealing his stomach in a glimpse. Like a teenage girl, your heart jumped at the little display of skin. He tossed the hoodie to the side, and stepped closer to you.

His hair looked darker when wet, almost a shade of black, sticking to his face and his cheeks. He puffed, pushing it back behind his ears. You noticed his pendant, stuck in the front of his shirt as he stepped closer to you.

You weren’t thinking as you reached forward, grabbing the thin silver chain around his neck and tugged it out, so it fell against his chest instead.

Hyunjin was frozen still at the action, darting down to see what you were doing and then looking back up at you.

Your hand was still on the chain, and every part of you wanted to pull him closer by it, so you could kiss him. Right now didn’t seem like a good time for that though. He was feeling all kinds of emotions and vulnerability …if he wanted to kiss you tonight, he would have.

The thought of letting Hyunjin go — without feeling his lips again — hurt you, but it was a reality you’d accept. You’d been all over the place with him recently, never having defined what it meant, or why you kept making out without talking about it.

Maybe it was just a summer fling for him, because he’d made it plenty clear you two could never be anything more.

You cleared your throat, dropping your hand, “Now, can we try the drink? I’m dying to taste it” 

He nodded a yes, and you held your glasses up, clinking them against each other. The sound echoed in the empty house. As you did that, he looked right into your eyes, and you felt a familiar shiver run down your spine. You lift the glass up to your lips, tasting the liquid, and Hyunjin watched you as you did so. His eyes on you made you feel a little shy, but that was soon overpowered by how good the drink tasted. 

It smelled, and tasted just like flowers and sweetness, and you let out a moan of satisfaction, “Fuck. That’s…revolutionary”

Hyunjin smiled, eyes crinkling, and only after that did he sip his drink. It tasted like a dark chocolate tart, and like flavourful berries grown on a farm.

“Have you ever considered…becoming a mixologist instead of an idol?” 

He laughed, stepping close to the counter so that he lingered at your footsteps. If you opened your legs up just a bit, he could stand between your thighs but you weren’t sure it was appropriate. So, you stayed the way you were, sitting on the countertop, and Hyunjin stood as close as possible, his lower stomach grazing against your knees.

“Maybe when I retire” He joked, swirling the drink around in his glass.

“No, but this is seriously so good” You told him, genuinely now, “Is there anything that you can’t do?”

“Stop” His face turned red, and he looked embarrassed, “It’s just a drink. I didn’t do anything else”

“Well, nobody’s ever made me a Queen of Hearts before” 

He glanced up at you, “They’re missing out on a great opportunity then”

“Mmh. I’m sure nobody’s dying to do that”

His smile fell, hand landing on your knee, “Don’t do that”

“Do what…?”

“Talk down about yourself”

You blinked. It really wasn’t your intention to do that. You were just being honest. Nobody you knew in your life, or in all of Daejon would ever make a drink like this for you. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but it was just the truth.

So it was interesting that he interpreted it as such, as if your reply offended him.

“I wasn’t” You clarified, “I just meant…there’s not a lot of guys in Daejon with skill sets like yours”

The way you said it made you cringe, it came out sounding so professionally formal.

He looked up at you, sincere expression, “That’s…a compliment I’ve never got before”

You broke into a laugh, and absentmindedly put your hand over his, the one that rested on your knee. His hand dwarfed yours in comparison, but you drew circles over it as you talked, “Well, I have a gift and a burning desire for pleasing others or I’ll shrivel up and die”

Hyunjin laughed, squeezing your knee, and his hair was wet, but it was already beginning to dry up around his face.

“I like when you’re like that” He suddenly spoke, eyes focused on his drink, not you.

You took a sip of it too, watching him, “When I’m like what?”

“I don’t know” He looked up, “Confident. Funny. Yourself. Not…sad”

“You make it sound like I’m always depressed”

He shook his head, “You know what I mean”

“I don’t” 

He sighed, as if wondering whether to say it or not.

You drew a star on his hand, the one that rest on your knee, “Tell me. It’s our last night together anyway”

It seemed like that was the push he needed, and he placed his glass to the side, “The past few weeks you haven’t seemed the most…happy. I know that you were having a lot of trouble with your friends, and with the art program application” He trailed off, looking guilty again, “And because of me…”

You stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“I guess it was just not a great time for you. But tonight, when I’m talking to you…it feels like those problems don’t exist in the moment. I know I have to leave tomorrow, and I know you were upset about that, and you have every right to be, but right now…it feels like you’re less burdened somehow”

You didn’t know he noticed so many things about you, and so your heart warmed at just that implication. Hearing him recount what you’d been going through, you also felt a little emotional.

He looked up at you, looking a little panicked, “Or I could be completely wrong. You can correct me”

“No” You refuted, “You’re not wrong. I do feel…less burdened. I guess I just never thought of it like that. For me, it just felt like each day was getting progressively worse. I didn’t look at it from any other perspective”

“Yeah… but things will work out for you, Y/N” He said so simply, “I know that sounds preach-y, but… it may feel like everything in your life is going wrong somehow, but I assure you it’s not. Every bad day you’ve recently had…all of that won’t matter soon enough, and so you have to know that this sadness isn’t forever”

You blinked, staring at him. Absentmindedly, his hand slid further up your leg, drifting from your knee to your thigh. You let it.

He pushed his stray hair back with his other hand, tucking the strands behind his ear, “And I know how much this art program meant to you, I’ve had my share of failed dreams before, so I know how gut-wrenching it is, but this isn’t the end of your art journey. You know that right?”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, it can’t be. You have a gift, and…I know that it’s not going to waste”

You smiled, cheeks full from his words, “You have a gift too, you know?”

He locked eyes with you, and he was blushing too, and his fingers rest at your upper thigh now, “Yeah? What’s that?”

“You have...such a good heart, Hyunjin”

His eyes widened, hanging on to your every word.

“You’re the kindest person I know. It doesn’t sound like much, but…I’ve not met many people like you, genuinely good people. I respect that…a lot. You deal with so much bullshit in your life, but you still find a way to be happy”

His eyes lit up, a gorgeous smile appearing on his face, “Isn’t that the point of everything? The endgame”

You laughed, “It is. It what we’re all working towards. I just wish everyone else could be like you”

He smiled at your words, and you would miss this so much. The kind of ideas that you could talk about for hours. He looked beautiful like this. He looked like the most beautiful thing in the world when he was happy. He was shy too, biting his upper lip, and his cheeks were all red.

So you continued, to make that emotion last as long as you could, “I’m serious. You have such a kind heart, Hyunjin. You put your soul into everything you do, even if that’s just talking to someone at the grocery store or something. I think if someone met you, even for just a day in their life, you’d impact them forever”

His eyes crinkled with each sentence, bashful smile appearing, “Thank you”

You took another sip, and you watched him.

He was finishing his drink faster than you, and you just wanted him to be closer.

So, you lift your legs up, folding them on the counter, sitting cross-legged while facing him. His eyebrow shot up, for just a second, before he realised why you did that. He stepped closer, till his body was pressed to the counter, and his face was inches apart from you. 

He lift his glass up, indulging in the last drink, but his eyes stayed on you, and his hand was on your thigh again.

“Thank you for the drink and… for the pep talk. I really enjoyed that” You told him.

He placed his empty glass next to you, a sincere look in his eyes, “That’s what I’m here for”

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, and you felt like your cheekbones would hurt.

“Everybody deserves to have someone like you in their lives, Hyunjin”

He was smiling too, cheeks full, eyes twinkling, “You too, Y/N”

You went to sip your drink, but it was already empty and you stared at the glass in your lap, “I finished it”

Hyunjin stared at your lap too, and the petals in the glass balanced in the space between your legs, “Do you want another?”

“Another drink?” You looked up at him.

He nodded, and his cheeks were so flushed, so he was already a little tipsy, “We can make a stronger one”

“You have a train to catch in the morning. Is that a good idea?”

“I’ll be fine” He reassured you, “This night is more important to me than that”

You clutched the counter on both sides, and nodded, “Okay. Another drink sounds good to me then”

He nodded, eyes half-lidded, “Can I have your glass?”

You hummed, “Yeah” but you made no effort to give it to him.

So, his eyes flickered from yours, to the glass between your legs. 

Carefully, he reached for it, trying to grasp the thin stem. You didn’t move an inch, holding your breath. 

His fingers brushed against your inner thighs, and he stilled. But he didn’t say anything. 

He went straight for it, and grabbed the wine glass, so near to where you needed him the most. 

Careful, he lifted it up from between your legs, and then finally you could breathe again. He walked over to the cabinet, “What kind of drink do you want this time?”

“I’ll trust your judgement”

He busied himself yet again, explaining what he was making, using up all the leftover gin he had. You watched him as he worked. The t-shirt was fitted, and it was a little wet from the rain, sticking to his body tightly. That must be uncomfortable. 

As he moved about, pouring the gin into your glasses, you focused on how his back muscles flexed and relaxed. He was so good with his hands, as he worked swiftly and quickly.

Your head was already beginning to spin.

“You have anything to eat?” You asked.

He looked back at you, “Are you dizzy?”

“Just a bit” You reassured him with a smile, “I am hungry though”

He turned, hands on his hips, and you found it hard to focus on his face. The t-shirt was basically see-through at this point, sticking to every ridge and muscle in his body, clinging to him. 

“I might have some chocolate, but I don’t remember if I packed it in my suitcase already”

“You know what, don’t worry about it” You waved it off with your hand, “I’ll be fine”

He looked worried, “You sure?”

“Mmh-mh”

“And you’re okay to have another drink? We don’t need to” 

“No, we won’t get to do this again, so yes I’m okay”

This was your last night, your brain kept screaming at you, again and again.

He turned to finish garnishing the drink. His hair was still long enough to brush his shoulders, and it stuck to the back of his neck, and the shade of brown really suited him. You wanted to run your hands through it, feel the wet hair between your fingertips, scratch it with your nails. 

His girlfriend…she must have had the honour to do that, whenever she wanted.

Unlike you. You always had to wait for moments. 

Moments like the one in the Photobooth. Or under the fireflies.

The special moments you lived for.

You couldn’t just casually walk up to him, and kiss him.

You were a little tipsy, so you didn’t think twice, “Can I ask you about her?”

He paused, and asked you, “Her?”

“The pop star you dated” 

Understanding sank into his shoulders, and he handed you the glasses. The second round of drinks were ready. Standing opposite you, he crossed one arm over his stomach, drinking with the other hand.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t feel comfortable” You added, watching him carefully.

He didn’t seem uncomfortable.

He tipped his head back, drinking, and then looked at you, “You really want to know?”

“Yeah” You gripped the counter, and your drink lay to the side, untouched.

You added, “I mean she’s your ex, and…we’re friends. Friends talk about that kind of stuff”

He nodded, slightly, “They do”

You were relieved, never wanting to make him uncomfortable, but you were burning with curiosity.

“What do you want to know?” He tilt his head.

“How did you meet her?”

He suddenly relaxed, as if he’d been expecting you to ask much harder questions, “Oh, uh. She was training at the same company I was. On a different floor, of course. She was one of the top trainees of her year, and…we would practice at the same time, overnight. I bumped into her a few times then”

“Oh. Sounds like she worked really hard”

Hyunjin nodded, “I mean, we had no choice, but yeah…she was one of the few who really pushed herself. Some days it felt impossible to debut, so you really only made it if you worked your ass off, you know?” He then paused, as if wondering whether to say the next thing or not, but he did it anyway, “That’s what I liked the most about her”

Your gut clenched, but your curiosity overshadowed the jealousy that was eating you up.

“So…did you ask her out? Or did she?”

He took another sip of his drink, glancing briefly to the floor and then up at you, “Yeah. I had a stupid teenage crush on her”

The words were enough to make you finally pick up your drink, and perhaps you needed to be inebriated before listening to this.

A fucking crush. She must have been the luckiest girl in the world to be crushed on by Hwang Hyunjin. You wondered what she looked like, but maybe it was better not to know. She was a star, she was probably perfect.

If he ever told you he had a crush on you, you’d probably pass out. 

“Was that allowed…? To date another trainee?”

Hyunjin then laughed, shaking his head, “Um, not at all. It was forbidden”

Oh.

It was forbidden, but he did it anyway.

“You must have liked her a lot”

He hummed, swirling the liquid in his glass, “I was a stupid kid. I wasn’t thinking”

“So you regret it?”

He shook his head, “No. I needed the experience”

“Of dating?”

“That, but also…a month or so after we started going out, one of her friends was asked to leave the company because she was caught up in a scandal. A dating one. That made me realise that I was risking my entire life, and my dream, for…a girl”

“How’d you do it?”

“Do what?” He seemed confused.

Your body was alight with all of this information.

“Keep it a secret for that long”

He smiled a bit at the memory, “Um. We found ways. We’d meet after dinner, and during late-night practices. Sometimes really early in the morning”

You think you would die.

“Did you fuck?”

Hyunjin’s eyes shot up to yours, wide, surprised. 

You don’t know what the hell possessed you to say that, but you didn’t budge, indicating to him that it was okay to answer.

He slowly nodded, tongue poking his cheek, “Yeah. We did”

You were dying.

But for some godforsaken reason, you needed to know the details. As if the thoughts of his secret dating days was arousing to you.

“Tell me more”

He til his head, words at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to ask you if you really wanted to know, or why you were so curious, but he didn’t ask. 

You wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t prepared to hear the answer.

Hyunjin was staring at you, assessing every little detail of your facial expression, and you wanted to seem confident. You weren’t some kid. 

You could hear about him having sex, and not freak out.

Thoughts of him fucking some pop star should kill you, but it didn’t. Your core was tight, with anticipation, with imagination. You pressed your thighs together, waiting for him to talk.

“Um…” He paused, to take another sip. Perhaps he needed some liquid courage too sometimes, “It was never…we never had too much time on our hands. It was always quick. Rushed, but I think that’s where half of the thrill of it was. The fear of being caught anytime. If we weren’t quick, we wouldn’t have been able to…”

Your heart was pounding.

Images flashing in your head. 

He looked into your eyes, and you just nodded, for him to continue. If he looked at your hands, he would see your knuckles were white from gripping the counter too hard. 

“It was hot” He spoke, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, “The secrecy. The…shared glances. Nobody but us knew what went on. During group sessions, we would watch each other…in the practice room. Working out. Dancing”

“And?”

It wasn’t enough.

His eyes had a peculiar expression, like he couldn’t understand why you wanted to know all this stuff, but he told you anyway, “And…on bad days, when she was frustrated or upset, I’d…be there for her. In the way that she wanted”

You took a large sip of your drink, the alcohol sour in your mouth, and your head was beginning to spin. In a good way. You were wet too.

You didn’t think you could ever feel this way. 

You were dizzy with want, and with desire, and his name escaped your lips in what was almost a complaint, “Hyunjin…”

“Yeah?” He was immediate to step closer, keeping his glass aside. He put his hands on either side of you, caging you in place, and his voice dropped so low, “Are you gonna tell me why you wanted to know that?”

“I don’t know” You mumbled, “I don’t understand it myself”

He leaned in, watching you, “You’ve had a lot to drink”

“I’m fine”

His voice softened, and he grabbed the glass from you, “I know, but…let’s not drink anymore, okay?”

“Why?” You whined, “It’s your last night”

He out a soft laugh, “It’s not like I’m dying or anything. I’ll only be a few hours away from you”

“A few hours is a lot. I don’t want you to be even a few minutes away” You complained.

He smiled, adoration in his eyes, “So, what do you want then? To stay with me all the time?”

You nodded, eyes closing, “That sounds fair”

He laughed, loudly, “Is it really? What about my job? Is it fair for me to leave all of that?”

“What about me?” You opened your eyes to look at him. 

He was so close, just inches away. His wispy bangs stuck to his forehead, grazing his eyebrows. His eyes were full of amusement, they were so brown, and so big. 

His lips were thick, tinted with the colors of the drink, and even little accidents like that made him look perfect, like he was sculpted by a great artist. You could admire him for hours.

He tilt his head, “What about you?”

You pursed your lips, feeling sad all of a sudden, “Are you gonna forget all about me?”

His smiled, hand tracing your cheek, “You really think so?”

“Your whole life is waiting for you back there”

He nodded, “It is…”

“You have so much to look forward to” You told him. So much more than what this life here in this little small-town could give him. 

He spoke, “Maybe that’s why I’m not sad. I guess because Seoul has always been my home”

Your heart felt heavy at his confession but you understood him, “Hyun…”

“I know. It sounds horrible. I was born here, and this is where my parents used to live before we moved, and this town should mean so much more to me. I feel like I’m betraying…that”

“You’re not betraying anyone, Hyun. You may not feel this town anymore but Daejon will still always be here for you. If you ever need it”

He glanced at you, eyes wide.

“And I will be too” You continued, “If you ever need me”

His mouth parted as he whispered, “Thank you”

You swallowed, staring at his lips, “What do we do now?”

His eyes flickered over you, and he was quiet.

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, and your mind too. 

“I don’t know” He finally spoke.

Your heart carried a sense of unfulfilment.

There was more that should happen. 

You could talk to each other for hours, and it was endless. Unfortunately, time was linear.

It was finite, and yours with him was coming to an end.

You’d been here for hours, yet it didn’t feel like that.

Hyunjin was staring at you, half-lidded eyes, and empty promises swirled within them.

You swallowed your sadness, trying to find words, “Your manager, he’s going to be coming here soon, right?”

“Yeah. His train will arrive…any time now” He glanced at his phone, “He’s almost here…”

“I should go before he arrives”

Hyunjin nodded, stepping back, “Yeah. He…he can’t see you here”

You jumped off the counter, suddenly unsure what to do or say. This was it.

He was going to be gone soon.

You stared at each other, at a loss for words. You couldn’t even cry. You just felt a certain numbness. The numbness he talked about. Maybe it was the gin.

You also felt like you were in denial, like he would return soon and you’d see him tomorrow morning. 

But the last time he left…he didn’t return for years.

Why would now be any different?

“I don’t know what to say” You mumbled, stupidly. There was nothing wrong with being honest.

He was leaving, and you couldn’t breathe. The air in your body wasn’t enough, and you were panicking because you didn’t know what to fucking say. Why had nobody prepared you for goodbyes like this?

In the movies, they were so dramatic, but real life wasn’t like that.

In the books, they were so romantic, but there was no time for love in his life.

Hyunjin’s expression softened, “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t want you to be sad. We’re going to meet again, and we’ll see each other soon”

You nodded, air returning to your lungs, “Right. You’re completely right, Hyunjin”

There was no need to freak out. He wasn’t dying, or anything. 

You didn’t want this to be some big deal. You weren’t going to cry, or make a scene. 

“It’s only for a little while” He shot you a smile.

“Yeah” Your palms were sweaty, and you wiped them on your jeans. You stared at the kitchen counter, and your wine glasses lay empty. You wish you’d asked for another drink. You wish tonight didn’t have to end. You wish time wasn’t linear, and you could go back.

Fuck. If you could change things, you would have gone back just an hour tonight, and you would have told him you were in love with him.

But it was too late now. 

He was just your friend, and he would stay in touch with you, like friends did. It wasn’t any different than what Yeonjun did when he left, or even Seonghwa.

“I should go” You stated, with finality.

Hyunjin nodded, then stepped forward, closing the distance between you until he stood an arm's length away.

“Thank you for coming over” He mentioned, “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight anyway”

“Of course. That’s…what friends are for” You smiled up at him.

He suddenly seemed awkward, hands at his side like he didn’t know what to do, “Can I hug you?”

Why was this so strange?

Why were neither of prepared for this?

You’d never said goodbye to a boy you loved, so you didn’t know how it worked.

You wish there was a manual for this. But even every tutorial in the world couldn’t prepare you for the look in his eyes.

You got up on your toes, pulling him into an embrace, and he immediately hugged you back. His strong arms wrapped around your body, squeezing you in his grip. 

You could smell the rain on him, a faint hint of his cologne, his shampoo. You’d want to bottle up his scent, and keep it with you forever. The air smelt like the ground after it rained, and like an unrequited love.

You tried to memorise the shape of his arms on you, and the sound of his heart beat. 

Hyunjin let go of you, far too quickly, but it was what you needed, or you’d never leave.

You were in a state of fugue, indulging in actions, but not thinking, not feeling.

You found yourself at the front door, and you don’t remember how you got here. You looked back at him, “Text me when you get to the city, okay?”

He nodded, “I will. Don’t worry, okay?”

All your words seem stuck in you. They can’t seem to make it past your chest.

Maybe a part of you thought there’d be some grand declaration of love by now, but this was real life and those things never happened.

You turned to leave.

“Wait—” He suddenly spoke.

“What?” You asked, anticipation swelling within you.

His wait held so many promises. So much hope.

Wait, I’m in love with you too.

Wait, I’m fucking stupid for leaving you all alone in this town.

Wait, please don’t leave me without kissing me goodbye.

He retreated to the kitchen counter, “Wait — your sketchbook. Don’t forget to take that” 

“Oh. Of course” You grabbed it from him, fingers brushing against his. 

“Take care of yourself” He spoke, and it was so forced. It was the right thing to say, obviously. It’s what you told people when you wouldn’t see them again for a while. 

But it felt wrong, like you were both forcing yourselves to follow traditions, and patterns, but those never worked on the two of you.

You pushed open the door, and a gust of wind blew in. The storm had passed now, so you could get home safely, by yourself, all alone. 

Looking over your shoulder as you walked out, you felt nothing. He smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His heart wasn’t in it. 

You were drained out, and all of your emotions were spent.

You held the sketchbook to your chest, focusing on the sound of your footsteps on the wet pavement, and not on Hyunjin’s house behind you.

You heard the door close behind you, and you squeezed the sketchbook a little harder, willing yourself to walk as fast as you could.

It felt like it would be the most emotionally draining moment of your life, but you felt so numb too.

You passed his front porch and bedroom window, and you remembered the first time you’d come over. How he’d shown you all of his art, and his painting. You’d been surprised to know how wonderfully his mind worked. 

Even back then, he’d asked if he could hug you. Always so…fucking nice. 

You were already forgetting the feel of his arms around you.

You stopped in your tracks, and you shouldn’t.

You turned around.

His house was beautiful, like him. 

Tomorrow, it would be empty.

Right now, it was so full of him, of his love, and of everything that made him him.

Your body took on a mind of its own, and you were walking. 

You were walking back to his place. It was stupid. 

What the hell were you doing?

You had no plan or idea of what you’d say when you got there, but that couldn’t have been your goodbye. 

You needed to see him one more time. Just another minute.

You raised your hand in a fist to knock on his door, but before you could, the door flew open.

He stood there, staring at you, eyes wide. 

His hair was messy like he’d run his hand through it a million times since you walked away, but that was only twenty fucking seconds ago.

“Y/N…” He spoke, breathing heavy as his eyes flickered all over you, and the fact that you’d come back.

“What… what were you doing?” You had the audacity to ask him when you didn’t even know what the fuck you were doing.

He was breathing so heavy, chest moving rapidly up and down, “I don’t really know. I was coming after you” 

Realisation sank in. 

You’d come back to see him again, and in the same breath he was coming after you. 

The world was really so cruel.

How could two people be so perfect for each other but be destined to be apart?

You couldn’t say anything, except his name, “Hyun—”

And in the same breath, his lips collided with yours, so hard and fast.

The impact was so powerful you stumbled back, but his arm was tightly wrapped around you, holding you up. 

It was tight around your waist, gripping you, and he was devouring you, lips moving against yours like they never should be apart. 

You were running out of time.

You kissed him back, hands coming up to his arms, gripping his biceps tight, fingernails digging in. 

Time was running and it was slipping away every second that the Earth was turning, but his grip on you was so strong that even a planet couldn’t come between you.

You stood at his doorway, on the threshold, halfway in, halfway out.

He’d never kissed you like this. 

His hand slipped into your hair, gripping onto it so tightly it almost hurt, tilting your head back and back as he towered over you. He kept kissing you, pressing pecks against your lips, bruising them.

Your hands drifted into the front of his shirt, and you gripped it in your fists, holding onto him for life.

“Fuck—” He mumbled, in a breath between pecks. Fuck, you’re actually fucking doing this again.

Your body was heating up, and he stopped to let you breathe, moving his mouth over your jawline and leaving kisses to your ear. You were putty in his hands, and he tilt his head the other way, pecking every inch of un-kissed skin.

“You came back” He breathed, pupils dilated as he looked right at you, and both his hands came to hold your face.

“I couldn’t go” You were panting, trying to get the air back in.

“I’m gonna miss you so fucking much” His lips trailed over yours again, tracing your mouth to memory.

“I know, I know” You nodded, realising that you were both tasting your tears. You didn’t even know you had tears.

The door was wide open and it was stupid to do this now, but it was everything. The wind prickled goosebumps up your arms, and legs, and you both kissed each other goodbye.

“Can I just say something?” He asked, breathing heavy. 

“There’s no time” You told him, kissing him again, and again.

He laughed slightly, “I’ll be quick”

You pulled away, “Tell me”

He was speaking quickly, trying to get all the words out in one breath, “I know we’ve said it a million times. I know we’re supposed to just be friends, and I know nothing can happen, but…I have no self-control around you. I’m so fucking sorry”

It didn’t make you sad. You’d heard it before, and you embraced it.

“Don’t apologise” You mumbled, and your hands drifted around his waist, feeling him up. 

Was it possible to want somebody so bad, knowing it would lead to absolutely nothing?

He swallowed, “I know we have to just be friends…but I’m so fucking attracted to you. Like an absolutely insane amount. It’s impossible for me to pretend I’m not into you”

Each word he said just made you wet, and you kissed him instead of answering. 

There was no time, because when were things ever easy for you?

You felt him up, all you could, hands drifting to his ass, and to the front of his pants, squeezing him through his sweatpants.

He left kisses on your jaw, and he felt you up too. His hand squeezed your ass, the other going up the front of your shirt. His fingers grazed your bra, and he pulled you even closer to him.

“Can I take you inside?” He whispered, ”Please, please, please”

“Hyunjin, I don’t wanna be interrupted” You breathed, because that’s what always happened. 

“Me neither” He mumbled into your neck, breathing in your scent, “We won’t… go there. We won’t sleep together”

You pulled back to look him in the eyes, because it sounded impossible right now, “Would we be able to stop before that?”

He nodded, “If you can’t, I’ll stop us. Don’t worry”

How could you say no? 

So he took your hand, fingers intertwining with yours, as you found yourselves back in his bedroom. Everything was put away, and his room was empty, but you sat on the bed and didn’t break the kiss for a second.

You didn’t have the luxury to go further, but you could just kiss. So you did just that.

He didn’t pull you into his lap, because you wouldn’t be able to control yourself if he did.

Instead, you sat cross-legged, facing each other, mouths meeting in the middle like two teenagers dared to kiss at a party.

He kept his hand in your hair, the other on your waist, and it was so innocent it was sweet. Your hands rested on his thighs, squeezing the skin through his sweats.

You didn’t know much time you had left, until he had to leave, until you were interrupted. You hope his manager never showed up. 

You continued to feel him up, memorising every ridge and muscle of his body, and he let out soft moans every time you touched him somewhere new.

“I’m so glad you came back” He mumbled, “I wanted you so much”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” You almost whined, kissing his jawline, “I wanted you too”

Things got more heated, and in a matter of seconds, he was pulling you closer to him. Your knees skidded across the mattress, as Hyunjin pulled you to him. 

Nothing was supposed to happen, but somehow, you were fiddling with the knot of his sweatpants, and he had unbuttoned your jeans, pulling the button out of its loop. 

You were dizzy with desire, and his hand slipped inside your jeans, at the same time that yours did into his sweatpants. Now you really did feel like teenagers — making out with your hands down each other’s pants.

It was hard for him because the waistband of your jeans were so tight, and he seemed frustrated. If you’d known this was going to happen, you’d have worn a dress, or maybe nothing at all, so nothing could stop him from touching you.

His fingers brushed against your underwear, and you were so fucking wet it was ridiculous. You bit back a moan, he’d barely touched you but you were burning.

Everything was spinning, and you were so high off off him. His fingers pushed your panties to the side, your arousal making it harder for him to do.

“Fuck…you’re really wet” He mumbled, and his fingers touched your core. You let out a moan at the feeling.

This was the first time he’d touched you like this, and you couldn’t focus on anything. Your hand in his pants stilled, as his fingers started to brush languid circles across your clit. 

Your head fell forward, against his forehead, and he didn’t even seem to mind that you’d stopped touching his cock. He was too focused on you. 

“Shh…I got you” He breathed, kissing your jaw, as he pressed his fingers against you, truly feeling how much you wanted him. You couldn’t describe the way he touched you, as if he was caressing you, fingers brushing against your folds so delicately. Nobody had ever touched you like this.

Your mouth parted, allowing Hyunjin to slip his tongue in, and his anxiety manifested in how intensely he kissed you, like he was running out of time, like this was the last time. You let him take control, as he controlled the pace of it, making out with you. Yet, making out seemed too crude a word for what he was doing. He was savouring every kiss - no half-kisses, no pecks - mouth crushed to yours like he wanted to devour you and you’d let him.

You’d been turned on since hours. You needed more. You gripped onto his bicep tightly, your other hand buried down his pants, hoping he would get the hint. His fingers prodded at your entrance, feeling you.

“Will you let me?” He asked, voice so innocent. You’d never said yes so fast before in your life.

Your lips grazed his ear, and then his cheek, “Please, Hyun”

He pulled back to look at you, “Are you sure?”

“Please”

“Stop me if it hurts, okay?” He kissed under your ear, and then in one swift move, he pushed a finger inside you. You stopped breathing the deeper he got, and you looked at him, mouth parted. 

It didn’t hurt. He could never hurt you.

“You’re so gorgeous” He mumbled, and then he pulled his finger back, before pushing it back in. An embarrassing moan escaped you, and he smiled at your reaction. 

“You like it when I do that?” He asked, and he was out of breath, just like you. He began thrusting out, and then back in, slow, lazy strokes, like he was still getting a feel for it, familiarising himself with your reactions and your body. But there was no time for slow, or careful.

“Holy shit” You mumbled, feeling like you’d pass out, “You can —You can go deeper, and faster too...please”

You had to make him feel good too. So you went back to work, wrapping your hand entirely around his cock. It was a different kind of feeling, to be doing this with all of your clothes still on. There was a small stain at the front of his sweatpants, and he was leaking already. The sight made you dizzy and crazy.

You brushed your thumb against his tip. He let out a moan, eyes fluttering shut, “Fuck. If you do that, I can’t focus on you” 

He then thrust another finger deep inside you, stretching you open, as if in retaliation.

Your mouth fell open in a moan, eyes squeezing shut, but you didn’t stop moving your hand over his cock, “But— but you’re distracting me”

You were both a mess of whimpers and moans, and he kept fingering you open, stretching you out. You’re sure his hand was dripping with your arousal, just like yours was covered in his pre-cum.

Hyunjin became impatient, bucking his hips for more friction, and you increased your pace too.  He whimpered, back arching, and cursed loudly, fucking himself into your hand. His hair was wet with sweat, sticking to his forehead, to his neck.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” You told him, pressing your mouth to his.

He fingered you harder. 

Your vision was a blur, and all you could focus on was moving your hand over his length. Something about making him moan, while his fingers were buried inside you, was so fucking hot. He was too big in your hands, and you wanted him so bad. But you’d made an agreement, and you couldn’t fuck, no matter how tempting it was.

Time ticked so fast, slipping from within you.

“Are you close?” He whispered into your ear, finger fucking you slowly. It was far too much to handle. You squirmed in his grip, “Yeah. Go faster, please”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your lips and then increased his pace. You could hear how turned on you were, the wet sounds echoing through his room.

“It’d be easier without the jeans” He mumbled, fucking you open with just his fingers, frustrated at how the waistband restricted his movements. 

“Are you close too?” 

He hummed, “I’m so close. I could cum probably just from touching you”

His words shot another wave of arousal through you, and your core tightened around him, impossibly.

“Fuck — you just…got so tight. Did you like that?” He asked you.

You nodded, no coherent thought in your head.

“Shit, come here” He said, and he pulled your hand out of his sweatpants. You whined at the loss of contact, but he pulled you into his lap instead. His arm came around to hold you up, and you were sat right on his crotch.

“What about—” You went to ask, but he shut you up with a kiss. 

His hand slipped back inside your jeans, and he slid your panties to the side again, “Let me”

You nodded, putting your hands around his neck.

He was so hard under you, and experimentally he thrust up, the friction of you on him so much, and he breathed, “Shit. That feels...amazing”

Everything was spinning, except him, “Don’t stop”

“Remember what I told you?” He mumbled, hand gripping your hip, and you nodded. 

He’d taught you how to make him feel good, back when you were still in the Photobooth. So, you dragged yourself over his crotch, slowly. It was harder to do when his fingers were still inside you, but every little movement felt amplified. 

You didn’t care about anything but him, you didn’t need this to be slow, you didn’t need it to be careful. You just needed him, and that was perfect.

His head fell back, and you kissed messily, spit between your mouths. He was thrusting up into you, to the same pace that his fingers moved inside you. It seemed like that was really enough for him too. Every little contact drove you crazy, like it was your first time touching a boy, and his first time touching a girl. There was so much novelty in the way you two moved against each other, and no finesse. Everything was rushed, every kiss messy, each feeling intensified. 

You caressed the sides of his face, “I want you to fuck me, please”

His eyes widened, but he thrust up so hard at those words, “Y/N, we can’t”

“Please, just the...just the tip”

He kissed you, “I want to, so badly, but --”

“But what?”

He looked genuinely sorry, breaking away from the kiss, “I don’t have a...condom. I'm sorry”

Oh, the irony. You wanted to scream with agony, because you don’t think you’d ever wanted someone this bad before.

“I’m so sorry” He mumbled, kissing you again, but then his voice turned darker, “My fingers aren’t enough for you?”

You clenched, “No. No- they are”

He thrust both fingers in with so much pressure, stretching you open, “Is that better?”

You pressed your lips to his, wanting to kiss him through your orgasm, because your stomach was tightening and you were so close. Hyunjin deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, and he was suddenly so rough and intense but you absolutely loved that.

He was breathing heavy, eyes half-lidded and consumed with lust, just like you. His lips were so puffy, and swollen, thick and full, and so pink, and he was fingering you so perfectly. Your core tightened, and you pressed your mouth to his again, to let him kiss you because you felt so out of control.

“Wait— wait, I wanna look at you” He breathed, pushing both fingers in so deep, curling them just right. All it took was to look at him for you to completely let go. 

Stars dotted your vision, and you whimpered, your entire body trembling. 

“Hyun—” You buried your face in his neck, a white hot flash overtaking you, travelling from your core to your heart, to your head. 

He was still grinding against you, faster now, lips hovering over yours, chasing a high you’d both been denied for far too long. And just seconds after, he let out a long drawn out moan, hips twitching up into you, eyes squeezed shut as he cursed, “Fuck”

For a few minutes, there was nothing but the sounds of your breaths. 

He was breathing deeply, and his hair was drenched, sweat dripping down his face, and neck and chest.

He opened his eyes. You wanted to cuddle up in his arms and go to sleep. From the look on his face, he wanted the same. You stared at each others state, and slowly he pulled his hand out of your jeans. Sweat trickled down his chin. It sparkled like glitter. You traced his jawline with your hands, soaking up the sweat into your skin.

You didn’t say anything, but he wrapped his arms tighter around your body. You gripped the front of his shirt, squeezing it in your grip. His heart was beating so fast. 

“You okay?” He asked you, his voice so gentle.

You hummed, and you felt drained, but you felt exhilarated too.

His hand rubbed your back, soothing you.

You tilt your head at him, “You?”

A smile pulled at his lips, “Yeah. I’m okay”

You traced his pecs through the shirt, not wanting him to leave. It was criminal for this feeling to end, and for this pleasure to not be yours everyday. Nothing had ever felt this good, and even in your post-coital haze, you wanted him more. 

So you blurted, “What if I did it anyway?”

“Did what?”

“What if…I moved to Seoul anyway? Maybe I could go there first…and look for a job later. I know it’s crazy and impulsive but I’ve always wanted to live there and—”

You trailed off, at his expression.

“Do you think it’s a stupid idea or something?” You chewed on your lower lip.

Hyunjin’s eyes followed that movement, and his thumb traced your mouth, “No …it’s not stupid at all. It’s what you’ve wanted for a few years, right?”

“It sounds crazy and impulsive…because I don’t even have a plan of what I’ll do, but maybe...that doesn’t matter”

Before he could speak up, his phone buzzed against the nightstand.

He glanced at it, and then to you.

Just at that minute, you heard the cab pull up. Hyunjin sighed, closing his eyes, and you got off his lap. He peeked through the blinds, “Fuck. He’s here”

“I should leave” You stood, gathering your things. There was no time to ask for his opinion anymore. Maybe he didn’t want to tell you it was a batshit insane idea.

“Hold on” He handed you his sweatshirt, the one that had dried by now, “It’s a cold walk out. You sure you’ll make it home safe?”

“Don’t worry about me” You told him, squeezing his sweatshirt in your hands, feeling silly for blurting out such a spontaneously dumb idea that made it very obvious how much you loved him.

A car door opened outside, and his manager must have stepped out. It was almost four in the morning. You were going to be leaving through the back. 

His manager couldn’t see you here. 

You’d already said your goodbyes, in the only way you knew how to.

You stepped out onto the patio, but Hyunjin grabbed your arm, urgency in his tone, “You should do it, Y/N”

You turned, confused, “Do what?”

The doorbell rang.

Hyunjin spoke quickly, “What you were just talking about. Even if you didn’t get into the program you wanted, you should move there. To Seoul”

Your eyes widened, tears filling up suddenly, and you quickly pulled him into another hug, and he stumbled into your embrace, “Thank you for saying that. I think it’d feel less scary with you there”

His lips brushed against your ear, “It’s the least I can do. Being here was less scary for me, only because of you”

He kissed you a rushed goodbye, but for the first time that night, your heart didn’t hurt anymore.

»»————-

Your morning passed in a daze. 

Time wasn’t real, as you lay on your bed, counting down the seconds until his train. Minutes stretched into hours into seconds, and you must have been more tired than you thought, because you woke up to drool on your pillow. 

The sun told you it was the afternoon. 

You’d fallen asleep in the clothes you wore to the drive-in theater. Your underwear was still wet, and reminded you of him. You were smiling to yourself like a crazy person, as you dressed yourself for work, and you put his sweatshirt on. It smelled just like him, and as you walked to work, the grass and the birds and the houses all remind you of him. 

Was it possible to fall even more in love with someone?

You were distracted, often drifting into thoughts of his moans, of the sensation of his hand in your pants, but it was frustrating because the man of your affections was moving miles away from you by the minute.

Hyunjin’s first text came at a precarious time.

You had been packing a pink acrylic canister for a customer, and the pings of your phone were so distinctive, you instantly knew it was him. It had to be Hyunjin, he must have already reached home, and you had to hold back an urge to text him back.

The phone buzzed incessantly against the glass countertop, and the lady in front of you raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry” You apologised for the ringing, “I forgot to put it on silent”

She didn’t really seem to care, “Can I try a paint swatch of the pink before you pack it up?”

“Of course” You unscrewed the cap, dipping a stray paintbrush into it, so you could show her how it showed up on paper, “Is that good?”

“Um, do you have a brighter one perhaps? I don’t think my daughter needs this one” 

You nodded, glancing behind her, “I think it’s in the third aisle”

A few more pings from your phone caught your attention.

It startled you, making you squeeze the bottle in your hands, and pink paint dripped onto your fingers and the countertop.

“Shit” You mumbled, wiping it clean with a tissue.

The customer was still busy browsing the aisles, and Mrs. Aera would be less than pleased to see you using your phone on your job, but…

It was just for a minute.

hyun

heyy

shit im sorry i couldn’t call earlier

It’s been crazy

but i just got to my dorm

i just wanted to let you know i made it 

and i was planning to paint in the train journey over, but i totally passed out lol

you

hey :)

I was just thinking of you

im so glad youre home safe <3

that sounds like something i would do ngl

keep me updated!

tell me everything in detail later please im dying

hyun

sent a photo

can you tell they missed me a lot

It was a picture of him at a stairwell, surrounded by three boys you’d come to recognise as Chan, Changbin and Jisung. They were smiling wide, teeth on display and Changbin was making a kissing face toward’s Hyunjin’s cheek, lips pouted and ready. 

Jisung was pulling at Hyunjin’s other cheek, and Chan was laughing to the side, eyes closed in pretty crescents. 

you 

they’re adorable lmao

did changbin actually kiss u haha?

In the picture you literally look like a kid embarrassed by his parents  

hyun 

they won’t let go of me ever since im back

and yeah changbin even insisted on sleeping in my bed tonight..?

i had to reassure them im not going away anytime soon 

but its sweet

what are you up to?

i hope you weren’t too tired for work 

“This pink seems like a good shade, does it not?” The customer brought you back to reality, placing a canister on the counter, and her gaze fell to the stained countertop, “What happened to your hands?”

Your screen was now tainted with pink fingerprint stains, but you didn’t care, smiling at the texts you just received. Maybe things would be okay, even when he was gone.

»»————-

 The first time he called you from the city, was when you were at the diner, and you almost fumbled your latte at the ringing. 

Seonmi raised a questioning eyebrow as you pushed your coffee cup aside.

You picked up faster than lightning. 

“Hi” You spoke, into your phone, sounding just a little out of breath.

“Hey” His voice sent shooting stars through your heart, igniting you with a newfound energy at only eight in the morning. It was hoarse, and smooth at the same time.

You’d only been texting each other the past few days, he’d been rightfully swept into the whirlwind of his life, and you’d been dying to know how he’d been. He’d given you little updates, about how it felt to move back in, to get back to his job, at how he was welcomed back by his fans so grandly. 

You’d watched his return on the news — the number of people who were there to greet him at the train station was insane, and you’d felt so proud of him. He told you that they had to close a major exit of the station, just because the company hadn’t expected that many people to show up. 

It was the first time you’d physically seen the impact he had, and it didn’t surprise you at all. People with pictures of him, banners, and slogans and signs in every language just to welcome him back from his hiatus.

He was so loved by so many people.

It’d be selfish to want to keep him just to yourself.

“Are you outside?”

“I was just grabbing coffee” You explained, pressing your phone to your ear to drown out the sounds of the diner. 

“Man, I miss The Grove’s coffee”

You twirled the cup in your hands, smiling, “It misses you too”

“I thought I’d call you when I had time. I’m headed straight to the studio after this. Guess what? The stylists love what I did with my hair, apparently the blonde is an old trend now anyway, and now they want to capture this while it’s still fresh”

You laughed, “What? You mean the cheap haircut you gave yourself?”

He chuckled, “Mmh. Something about it is raw, and apparently perfect for my comeback”

You spun on your chair, “Well, they certainly know how to make the best of a situation” 

“We’re recording till late tonight. With the new album, we’re on the clock almost all the time. We have just under two weeks to finish producing it”

“For the entire album? Is that enough?”

“It has to be” He said, “I don’t mind. It’s what I live for”

You bit your lip, anticipation coursing through you, “Can I hear it anytime soon?”

He grinned, “You’ll be the first one”

He kept his promise. 

That night, he sent you a video. 

It’s a snippet of him in the studio, and you keel at the thumbnail before you’ve even opened it. His hair was messy, like he’s straight out of bed before recording, and bulky headphones sat around his neck. 

You hear someone counting down in the background, and you wonder if that’s Chan, his producers, or someone else to help with the process. The instrumental is muted, so it’s just Hyunjin singing the backing vocals.

Eyes squeezed shut, he’s lost in the verse of the song. The cadence and tone of his voice so distinctly different from when he speaks. It’s sassy, and it’s harsh, and the cleanest rap you ever heard.

You stared in awe, earphones plugged in, sat behind the cash counter in your break, and then you watched it again, and again, until you’re called back to your shift.

You think about the video all the while you’re at the store, and you called him as soon as you’re out.

“You were so good, the verse has been stuck in my head for hours and you sound cocky as fuck, but it’s not an annoying cocky. How do you even do that?” You were belting out compliments for minutes now, and Hyunjin sat at the other end, accepting them with flushed cheeks. He was so shy right now, a stark contrast to his singing personality. 

“Stop. You make me sound better than I am. You should…be telling me to get better” He complained.

You laughed, “You’re literally already perfect at it”

“When you visit me, I’ll get you access to the studio. You can watch me record it in real time” He suggested.

The thought excites you, and you imagine watching him from the couch, through the observation window.

You imagine him coming out of the booth to take a break, all sweaty and exhausted, and he would put an arm around you. 

Perhaps you’re influenced by far too many 80s movies. Still, you imagine excessively making out with him in the recording studio until his assistants have to physically pull you off each other.

Yeah, considering the industry he’s in, that could never happen.

Over the next few days, he also sends you videos from the dance studio, and all of your feelings for him build on top of each other, like a Jenga tower destined to fall. Every day that passes, a new block is added, and you don’t know how lucky you had to be to bump into him in your life.

He dances just like he kisses, with purpose and intensity, a certain romance behind his moves, and you become guilty of obsessively rewatching the clips he sends you, finding new details every time. 

He wears simple sweatpants to the studio, and he ties his hair up into a bun, and all you want is to be there to kiss his sweat away, and reward him after his long days of work. 

It feels silly to fantasize about caring for him, like you’re a seventies housewife, but you can’t help it. You want to massage the knots from his back, brush the tangles out of his hair, and kiss him between every dance practice. 

You realise how much he’s taken over your life and thoughts, even when he’s miles away. You don’t tell him all of this, but some days you can’t help but blurt your thoughts out.

“You’re messing with me every time you send me another video” You complain to him, “How do you contain all of that talent in a singular body?”

He laughs, but he doesn’t stop. He sends you selfies of him every day from the practice room, and he’s always glistening with sweat in them, throwing up a cheesy peace sign, and it’s your new favourite picture, until he sends you another the very next day.

You sit on your bedroom floor, fiddling with the strings of your hoodie as you talk to him, “What’s your schedule like right now?”

He’s at the headquarters of a high-end international magazine, in the waiting room as he talks to you. You can’t help but feel special that he takes out this time for you, “Well, I stay in the recording studio till late, and when I’m home…I’m trying to paint as much as I can before passing the fuck out. I just started a few days ago but it helps me destress. It gives me time to think about what happened in my day. It’s so…cathartic”

You smiled, so glad he found time to paint again, “Are you cheating on Aera’s with that art shop in Hongdae?”

He laughed, “Yeah. The cashier’s pretty cute here too”

You roll your eyes, “Funny…I hope you’re still making time to eat”

“Yeah, Jisung is my self-appointed manager for the moment. They’re smothering me with love”

“What, he cooks for you?”

“God no, he’d burn the dorm down. He just gets me my favourite takeout. Man, I missed takeout so much I didn’t even realise. There’s a Thai place down the street, and I’m basically surviving on it”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, Daejon isn’t boujee enough for a Thai restaurant”

He giggled, “I miss the hilltop bakery, although Chan introduced me to this cake shop. It opened just a month ago, it’s some European franchise but fuck if it isn’t the best pastries I’ve had”

You laughed, “It seems like you’re really enjoying yourself”

“Yeah. Everything’s really good”

“Yeah?” You stretch your legs out on your bedroom floor, and as you talk to him, you’ve been sketching in your notepad too, “How are the boys?”

He falls quieter, “Well…Jisung is still dealing with the fallout and backlash from that article. Did I ever tell you my company sued the media outlets who leaked the private information about him? All of his therapy notes and everything?”

“Yeonjun told me that there was some court case” You admitted, heart feeling heavy, “How’s that going?”

“It’s exhausting. There’s so many legal proceedings, but I have hope that Jisung will win the case”

You don’t know too much about this works, “Do you have to testify too?”

“If it comes to that, I will. Jisung wants me to stay out of that spotlight though. He says I’ve already been through enough with my hiatus”

You nod, “Then that’s probably for the best”

“I have to be careful though. The media seems to have a personal vendetta against us right now”

“God. That must be scary. Just take care of yourself”

“I am. Don’t worry. But the other day it was crazy, they surrounded our dorm and it made it impossible to leave”

Your eyes widen, “That doesn’t sound too safe. Can’t the company do something?”

He nods, “Our managers take care of it, but not much else can be done. The area outside our dorm is a public space. Legally, anybody can hang out there, and nothing can stop them from waiting for us”

You sighed, putting down your pencil, “You’re a saint for going through all of this, for your job”

He let out a bitter laugh, “It is my life, so I’m kind of used to it”

“That’s crazy” You mumble.

He nodded, “Hold on. They’re calling me in for the fitting now”

Your eyes widened, the prospect of him dressed up exciting you already, “Did they already show you the outfits you have to wear?”

He hummed, “They told me the theme too. You’ll love it.”

“Tell me”

He laughed, “I gotta go”

“Wait, what?” You protest, but he hangs up before telling you.

The pictures arrived at an unassuming time, catching you off guard.

Hyunjin had sent you ten different photos. You’d been wondering what the theme could have been for the past few hours, but it became very obvious as you scrolled through them all.

2000s fashion. 

Of fucking course.

In the first photo that you see, he was in a cropped jacket, the fabric shimmering under the changing room lights. His phone was held in front of his face, hiding his features and his hair was pushed back by a hairband. He still managed to make it look so sexy.

You stopped everything you were doing, scrolling through the myriad of pictures and outfits he’d bombarded you with.

The denim jeans fit snugly on his hips, patchwork across the thighs. 

You scrolled to the last one, and the jacket was unzipped. You realised why he’d said you would love it. He revealed a cropped baby blue t-shirt, with rhinestones across the hem. The shirt rose enough to show his bellybutton piercing and clenched abs.

You held your breath, staring at the pictures. A thin choker adorned his neck too, and he was slightly smirking in the picture.

He wanted you dead.

you:

wow.

hyun

is that all?

the photoshoot just ended so im going back

you:

i don’t really know what else to say

you look really fucking hot…like you’re so gorgeous in that

the outfit is…perfect on you

but i can’t imagine you ever wearing it here

it’s not your style, right?

hyun:

haha 

you know me so well

i really hate crop tops lol

but …

you

but?

hyun

i know you too :)

so i took a picture just for you

He sent it to you, making your heart stop.

In it, he was sat on the fitting room bench, legs spread. But this time…the rhinestone choker wasn’t around his neck anymore.

It was held between his teeth. 

It was so fucking sexy, you sat up in bed, staring at it, a feeling shooting through your body. You have to remind yourself how to breathe. You don’t reply for a few minutes, and he texts you again.

hyun

what, you have nothing to say now?

He’s so fucking cocky, but it makes you dizzy.

you

i hate you for that picture

hyun 

haha

i knew you’d love it 

»»————-

The next few days were a blur, and you felt a frenzied mess, like you were falling in love with him all over again. 

Hyunjin in Daejon was…a sweetheart, but Hyunjin in Seoul…was a fucking menace. 

You don’t know what it was that changed.

He’d tease you more often, exuding a calm confidence that tortured you at nights. 

Even though you couldn’t talk to him as often, the moments that you did were special. He’d send you pictures, snippets of his day, voice messages about how the album was going or random things the boys did at the dorm.

You lived through him.

In turn, you sent him parts of your life.

The way the sunset set perfectly against the Creek, the exorbitantly rich guests at the Château that were dressed to the nines, the sketches you drew and left unfinished but still sent him.

You found out through Seungmin that Hyunjin had donated all of his leftover paints to The Château, which were worth hundreds of dollars, just so they wouldn’t go to waste while he was away. You were once again, struck by how kind he was to have thought of that.

On mundane nights, he’d send you audio recordings of their unreleased songs, pictures from the studio of him, headphones slung around his neck, tired and weary eyes.

You tried to keep each other updated, not that there was much happening in your life at the moment. Still, you’d send him pictures of you with Yeonjun, of the store, of his favourite order at the diner. 

Every notification, every ping on your phone would send lightning through your veins, knowing it was him on the other end. 

In the days that followed, you heard his voice less, and instead read about his day in wrapped-up summary text messages, paragraphs that flowed for hours, leaving you to scroll through your phone. You’d make it a habit to sit in your favourite booth in the diner, as your paper straw turned soggy in the milkshake, you’d type out every single one of your thoughts. 

Vicariously, he lived through it too.

Your texts with him flowed like a personal diary, a newsletter on all the gossip in Daejon. You told him about the time you bumped into Hana at the diner, and she smiled at you, and you didn’t know what to do.

Somehow, he feels guilty for the rift between you and her, but you tell him it’s not his fault. If your friendship could be broken up by just a boy, it clearly wasn’t strong enough.

But then the next time you see her at the diner, she comes and sits across you.

You’re so shocked that you can barely process it, and she seems unsure too.

“Is there something wrong?” You asked her.

“Does something have to be wrong for me to talk to you?” She replied.

You shrugged, “Considering the last time we spoke—”

“I heard Hyunjin left town. Are you okay?”

You frown, feeling defensive, “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You two were close” She stated, obviously, “Everybody in town knows that”

Maybe it’s your closeness with Hyunjin that makes you feel brave.

You want to say something mean. 

You want to say something honest. 

Everybody in town also thinks he cheated on her with you, after everything she said at the Lakehouse party. 

After she yelled at you in front of everyone.

But you’re past that, so you don’t say it.

“I don’t really care what everybody in town thinks”

It’s tamer than what you had in mind, but it has the same intended effect.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and she’s clearly not expecting that response.

“That doesn’t sound like you” She finally said.

“Yeah, well maybe you don’t know who I am anymore. You haven’t talked to me in months”

“I’m sorry. Yeonjun coming back to town threw me off the loop. You know I never got over him”

“That doesn’t mean you can just take it out on me. I told you that night that…that I got rejected from an apprenticeship I’ve always wanted. You didn’t even ask me about that”

She sighed, running her hands through her hair, “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t really know what you want me to say. I’m not gonna apologise for being upset”

“That’s not what I’m asking you to do, Hana” 

“Then what are even saying? It’s been weeks since that fight. I thought you’d moved on from it”

You stare at her. The innocence in her big eyes, the curls in her hair, the princess corset top she had on. It doesn’t affect you anymore. You used to get so hurt by the things she said. So personally offended. You want to confront her, and tell her about it. You want her to know that she hurt you, but you’re so sick of drama, and of confrontations.

Right now, you feel past it. 

The past few months and all of the things she said still hurt you, and maybe one day you can make things up with her. You just don’t think that day is today.

So you stood up, and she stared at you, confused.

Grabbing your bag and sketchbook, you mumbled, “You’re right, Hana. I have moved on from this”

»»————-

One day, Hyunjin sends you a new painting he worked on.

It’s a vase of flowers. Dahlia.  

It’s rendered beautifully. The shadows, the texture of the petals, and the lighting on the glass.

“When do you even get the time?” As soon as he called you, you asked him, “You’re getting so much better, Hyunjin. I’m serious, like the art you made here…this is already on another level from that”

He smiled, “Are you proud of me?”

“Of course”

“Can you tell me how I can get better?”

You don’t feel too worthy of sharing your knowledge, and you tell him that. After all, you’re not an expert or anything. 

He shuts you down instantly.

“You’ve been painting since before you could talk” He replied, “I want your opinion, Y/N”

You sighed, staring at the picture, “I think your shadows are getting better. Have you tried using a wider brush for the water, with thick bristles? I think the ripples will blend much easier”

“Really?” He asked, “I think right now, it looks too fake somehow”

“Yeah, but I think that’s because you’ve drawn out every wave and the lines are too sharp. Try blending the edges so it fades naturally, okay?”

“Okay, I’m gonna try that this weekend”

“I’m really glad you make time to paint, Hyunjin”

He laughed, “It’s a necessity. I lose myself in it, and it’s just me and the canvas for all those hours. Nothing else matters”

“Sounds familiar” You smiled, “Maybe one day, if you have time, we can paint on video call together”

And then he called you that very weekend.

The computer screen illuminated your face and his, as you painted in the dead of the night. You were set up in your bedroom, an assortment of paintbrushes and watercolours surrounding you. You painted with your fingers, often getting distracted by Hyunjin across the screen. 

His space was cleaner, more organised because he had less space to work with. A bag of chips lay at your side and you pushed your hand into it, lazily munching on it as you watched him frown over a color choice. 

“I think you’re going to love the song I’m working on with Chan” He said, after a while.

“Yeah?” 

“It’s…a sexy, contemporary kind of R&B. I can imagine you liking it”

You only have one, predictable question, “When can I hear it?” 

He laughed, “We’re still writing it”

You hummed, focusing on blending the ocean in your canvas, dabbing at your canvas to experiment with a new style. You savour the moments, because he hardly has this time.

“Can I say something cheesy?” He asked, and you look up to see that he’s sipping on some drink. A fancy cocktail that Chan probably made him. In the back, you can see his bed, and his things, and you wish you can see his room in Seoul. 

You want to know what he decorates it with, and what clutter he has there.

“Yeah?”

The way he’s leaning over his webcam, you can see into his shirt. The navy button-up is loose, and the top few buttons are undone. The sleeves are rolled up, which was probably a good decision since his arms are stained with pink paint. His hands are busier too, with more rings and more bracelets on them.

Hyunjin’s more boujee in the city too.

His cheeks are suddenly red as he confesses, “When I get stuck in the middle of the writing process, I think of you, and it really helps”

You sat up on your knees, cherishing this new bit of information, “What do you think about?”

He flushed, “You know…just our time together. Chan teases me about it. He says you’re my muse or whatever”

He doesn’t say much more, but he’s so shy so you don’t ask. You don’t react as much as you want to either. You want to jump, or scream, or kick your feet giggling. 

It’s a moment you etch into your brain forever.

You’re his muse, and it’s fitting because he’s always been yours.

As the hour passed, your focus grew, and you almost forgot he was on the other side. Almost.

Hyunjin is focused too, and he’s humming a familiar tune. The call lasts for over two hours, and it’s the most you’ve talked to him recently. 

When you’re both done, you show him your canvas; he shows you his, and you marvel at his improvement. He’s painted a beautiful lighthouse, ocean waves crashing into the rocks, and he explained every color choice to you. 

You could hear him talk about his art forever, and you sit in awe, as he expressed his reasoning behind every aspect. He’s gotten so much better at art, and he’s really a prodigy. 

You then do the same, lifting your canvas up to show him the landscape, and he leans in really close to the camera, eyes wide as he takes it in.

“That’s beautiful” He mumbles, still staring at your painting, “I don’t know how you do it so well every time”

You smiled, because art was your favourite thing in the world, and Hyunjin complimenting it made your heart swell.

He was suddenly smiling, and he said, “I…also visited an art gallery last week. I met someone” 

Your eyebrows shot up, and your smile fell so fast.

People only said that in one specific context. When they were into someone.

“You met someone?”

“Yeah” Hyunjin smiled, “She’s…this prodigy. Chan introduced me to her, she’s so young and she’s actually the owner of the entire place and guess what she said to me?”

You didn’t want to know.

“I don’t know” You replied, hoping your indifference wasn’t visible.

“She said one day I could display my own work up there. Isn’t that fucking insane? I mean, I just started out with art”

“How does she know your work?” 

He didn’t comment on your lack of excitement, but he just said, “Oh, Chan showed it to her. I was embarrassed, but it was worth it”

“That’s really nice of her” 

He nodded, “Yeah. She was really sweet. And oh! The reason I’m telling you this was because she used to intern for Kim Jieong, maybe she can help you out with the--”

“No, it’s okay” You’re quick to interrupt.

He then asked why you haven’t applied to another apprenticeship again. 

You put aside your paint supplies, you’d lost motivation anyway. You dragged your laptop onto your bed, as you told him, “I told you. I’m not really confident, and I’m not looking forward to another rejection”

He stopped you before you can continue, “You’ve got nothing to lose then. Please, at least try. For me”

He’s sleepy, and his eyes kept closing, but he stayed up just to convince you.

You sighed, “Fine. I’ll apply, but don’t expect anything, please. You’ll be disappointed”

“You could never disappoint me” 

»»————-

Your days unfolded with a slow pace, summer fading away into the months of autumn. 

You found solace in your friends — in movie nights with Minho, in spending time with Yeonjun before he had to go back to work. After all, there was only so long he could be on vacation for. He had to go back to where he belonged. 

It was easier to not miss Hyunjin when you were occupied, busy with your endless shifts, navigating between finding time to paint but also to enjoy the leftovers of summer. 

The night they finished recording the album, Hyunjin called you drunk.

You’d seen him tipsy on a few occasions, but never like this.

He was laughing about something when you picked up, talking to other people at the party. The background was loud, and you struggle to hear anything. 

“Hyun?” 

“Guess what?” He asked you.

“What?”

“We finished the album. Like, for real. Every track is actually ready” He announced, and you hear a cacophony of sounds in the background, “We’re at my manager’s apartment, all of us, and the whole crew. It feels so fucking good”

“Congratulations” You smile, “That’s…really cool”

“Jisung made me drink…far too much” He giggled, “I liked the wine though, Chan found it in this cool store but then me and Binnie…we did body shots, and guess what? Chan fucking did body shots too! It was so insane. He also invited the girl from the art gallery, which is so funny. Apparently, she has connections in our industry too. She’s the daughter of --” 

“Wait, you did body shots?” You interrupted him, not really wanting to hear about the very successful artist prodigy girl in his life.

“It was insane. Just like Seungmin told us”

You could tell he was walking around the room, because he’d randomly trail off and talk to someone.

The more he rambled on the other side of the phone, the more you wished you were by his side. He must be standing near the speakers, because suddenly his voice would get drowned out by the music.

“I…can’t hear you, Hyun” You spoke, snuggling into your blanket. 

Your bed was the stark contrast of where he was right now; in a room full of pounding music, and you wondered what kind of parties they even had, or how wild they were. If they did body shots, they must already be pretty wild.

“Sorry” He apologised, walking off to a quieter area, “Can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, I can”

“Fuck. I miss you so fucking much” He suddenly mumbled, voice dropping, “Why aren’t you here?”

“I miss you too” Your heart squeezed, “But you should get back to the party—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that Y/N?” A loud voice interrupted, and you heard a loud struggle on the other end, making you pull back from the phone.

“Give me the phone back, Changbin!” Hyunjin yelled.

You sat up in bed, “Hello?”

“Hey!” Changbin’s voice was louder than you expected, and he sounded really drunk too, “You must be the girl who stole him away from us for months and months. I have every reason to hate you”

“Stop!” Hyunjin spoke in the background, “Don’t announce it to the entire party”

“Now you’ve taken him back though” You replied to Changbin.

“Eh, you’re right” He laughed, “So tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10—”

“Changbin, give me my phone back!” Hyunjin sounded exasperated, and you could imagine them running after each other.

“Let me finish!” He groaned, and then his voice became clearer again, “On a scale of 1-10, how big of a dumbass is Hwang Hyunjin for—?”

“Fuck. Is that her?” Another person interrupted in the background, and you felt overwhelmed by the multitude of voices. 

“Jisung, can you please ask him to give me my phone back?” Hyunjin sounded annoyed now, voice further.

“I’m sorry, this prick won’t let me talk to you for five whole minutes!” Changbin apologised, and you’d never met him but his energy seemed exactly like you’d imagined.

Still, you could hear Jisung in the background, struggling after the phone, and it made you feel special. They were miles away at a fucking album party, but gave their attention to you.

“Is that Hyunjin’s girlfriend?”

Your eyes widened at the word.

Hyunjin’s frustrated drawl interrupted, further away from the speaker but you still heard it, “Stop, Jisung. She’s just my friend. How many times do I have to say that, and don’t announce it to the party!”

Your smile faded, stupidly. He was right. 

“Then I can have her?” Changbin interrupted.

There was another scuffle, until Hyunjin was at the phone again, “Hey, I’m so sorry. They…took you hostage”

A breathy chuckle followed, drowned out by his friends laughs in the background.

“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it” You fiddled with your blanket, “You should enjoy the party, Hyun”

“No, no, I called you because I missed you”

“I can’t really even hear you” You spoke, “We can just talk tomorrow. Please just have a good time tonight, okay?”

“All right. I’ll call you later” Hyunjin spoke, like he was distracted by someone.

“Who are you talking to you?” An unknown voice interrupted, and you guessed they were probably talking to Hyunjin.

And you heard Hyunjin mumble, “Nobody” before he hung up.

You laid back in bed, and it was too quiet, and you felt lonelier than ever.

»»————-

Fallen leaves drifted in the pool, from the canopy up above. One drifts towards you, and you picked it up in your hands, watching the water seep through the half-eaten leaf. It’s orange.

“The leaves are already changing color…or is it just me?”

“It’s just you” Minho answered, and you roll your eyes.

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” He asked, swimming over to you, “The rest of the party is over there”

“I’m not really interested in playing” You told him, looking over to where everyone indulged in a pool volleyball game.

“So you’re out here looking at leaves. God, I’m lucky to be your best friend”

“Shut up” You shove him, and he laughs, falling into the water.

As soon as he resurfaces, he splashes you.

“Don’t be annoying, Minho” You mumbled, rubbing the saltwater out from your eyes.

“You’re no fun” He grumbles, and lays on his back to float in the water.

You stare at the leaves floating around you again, drifting into a pattern, and a sole flower is in between them. A dahlia.

“Can’t believe summer is almost over” You remark.

“You sure made the most of it though, Y/N” He smiled, eyes squinting against the bright overhead sun. You don’t respond, and he lifts his head to look at you.

“What?” He asked, “You can’t deny that it’s the most eventful summer we’ve ever had”

You peered down at your nails, the paint was chipping off, “Right. Losing my best friends sure is memorable”

“You didn’t lose them, Y/N”

You gestured to the space around you, that usually would be occupied by Hana or Felix, “I don’t see them here”

Minho sighed, swimming closer to you, “What’s got you in such a mood?”

You shook your head, feeling silly for feeling this way, “Nothing” 

He rolled his eyes, “Tell me”

You sighed, fixing the straps of your bikini to avoid looking him in the eye, “Hana tried to talk to me a few days ago. She wanted to fix things, but I didn’t. Does that make me a horrible person?”

“Do you feel like a horrible person?”

You looked up at him, “No. I…chose my peace over another fight. I think I made the right decision”

“You knew the answer to that already, Y/N. Then what is bothering you?”

“Fine. Hyunjin called me last night, from the release party” 

“And that’s a bad thing…why?”

“Not really, I guess it put things into perspective. He’s…out there being successful and celebrating that success, and I’m here, doing absolutely nothing.”

“You’re at a pool party with me. That’s not nothing”

“You know what I mean” You sighed, leaning against the pool wall, “He’s probably even going to display his stuff at an art gallery soon. Some girl fell in love with his art…and he’s always busy…in a totally insane location, or doing something so fucking cool, and I’m in the stupid art shop”

His texts have been less than frequent. You understand, because he’s swamped with work. The press tour has been underway for a week now, and if he wasn’t at some fancy magazine building, he was probably holed up in the studio for re-recordings. There’s still time till the album's release, and if you know anything about the band, they’re perfectionists. They’ll work themselves to the bone, till the end.

“Well, yeah. He’s…an idol, with a crazy fucking life. You’re living a normal life. He would probably give everything to exchange places with you, and not have anything to do”

“I guess you’re right” You realised, and you glance up to see Yeonjun.

He’s laughing loudly, sunglasses on his head, as he throws the ball to the other team. He’s leaving soon, and this pool party is a going away gift. After all, he’s the only one of your friends with a pool. Yeonjun looks happy, and beautiful in the sun. It was low-key, exactly like Yeonjun wanted it, and you’re so glad Minho and him are on talking terms again.

“And I don’t believe you. That’s not why you’re upset” Minho spoke, blocking the boy from your view.

“Why can’t you just take my word for it?”

“Because I know when you’re lying to me. So tell me, what’s got you being so bitchy to your only friend within 35 miles?”

“Ouch!” He yelled, when you pushed him again.

“Stop being a smartass”

“You’ve been floating on cloud nine the past few weeks, what’s wrong now?”

You stare back at Yeonjun, as he dives to retrieve his sunglasses, and his other friends are teasing him.

“I never told you but I applied to an apprenticeship in the city” You blurted.

Minho’s eyebrows shot up, “What? Today?”

“No…a few months ago. At the start of summer” 

His brows were furrowed, confused, “Oh”

“That’s kind of why I’ve been working all these jobs…so I could save up one day and move to the city”

He swam closer to you, “Why are you telling me this now?”

You shrugged, and the water feels nice and calm around you, “I thought you’d hate me for it”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, “That’s not true. I’d like to think I’ve grown from when Yeonjun left. I mean I’m at his party right now. Isn’t that saying a lot?”

You smiled at him, “That’s probably why I’m telling you now”

Minho laughed, “So did you get it?”

“Nope” You sighed, “I wasn’t good enough for it”

“What, so you’ve given up already?”

You frowned, “No, but I’m still waiting on them to hear back. I contacted them again regarding my application”

Minho smiled, “Hyunjin knows, right?”

“Yeah”

“Of course he knows. You tell him literally everything. I’m gonna have to fight him one day”

You laughed, “I’d pay to see that”

He reaches forward, picking out a leaf stuck in your hair, “You really miss him, huh?”

“I hate texting him. It’s so impersonal and distant”

“Have you video-called him?”

You sighed, “Through my shitty computer screen, yeah”

“I think you need a vacation, Y/N” He laughs.

“I’ve been on vacation, like for months”

“No, I mean a vacation, away from your job, away from Daejon. Just go see him”

Your eyes widen and you looked at him, “Isn’t that a bit crazy? I mean, we’re not dating”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back in to float, “The day you stop worrying about what other people think, is the day you’ll live a much better life, Y/N”

He then begins talking about other things, but his words stick in your head, and an idea begins to form.

»»————-

You help Yeonjun pack, and on his last night in town, you sit on his couch again, talking about everything that was. He tells you of his consistent fights with Hana, and his efforts to rekindle their relationship which went in vain. It’s strange to think he came back to town, just to make things right with her.

He tells you that him and Hana have grown apart, and perhaps they were never meant to be together. 

He says that he’s letting Hana go, and it’s a bittersweet moment which you drink to. 

You think nothing could make you let go of Hyunjin.

When you get really tipsy, you fantasise of him even more, and scroll back through your chats, reading his old texts, smiling to yourself. Yeonjun catches you, and calls you a hopeless romantic, and you’ve never thought of yourself that way, but it rings true. 

You both lay in bed, and you talk until he has to go, and you realise how much you hate goodbyes.

»»————-

The next time Hyunjin texted you, you were sat at the steps of the art shop, waiting for the rain to pass. 

hyun

hey

sorry ive been filming all day

you

ohh, what have you been filming?

didn’t the album recording finish last week?

hyun

ah no the press tour is still left 

you

oh right, sorry I have no idea how this stuff works lol

hyun

right now we’re doing some promo content for a teen magazine 

after this we still need to go to a music video shoot

It’s for an american talk show

isn’t that crazy?

you

wow…

you’re going to be so popular

but i hope you can get some sleep

hyun

we’re filming till 4 am tonight

i doubt it

what are you up to?

you

um im stuck at aeras because of the rain :/

i always forget to carry an umbrella

hyun

you miss me?

You stared at the text, tears inexplicably filling your eyes, and you don’t know why.

It had only been a few weeks since he was gone, yet it felt like he was drifting away.

Of course you missed him.

You missed him an insane amount, and ever since he’d been gone, you’d been going through the motions of daily life, not even really enjoying anything.

He was so far away. 

You’d tried to not let the sadness overtake you, because it was silly and childish.

You missed his calming voice, and his hand in yours, and the taut string of tension between you every time you met.

You missed the uncertainty of Hyunjin.

The not-knowing.

With him, you could never tell. It could be a mundane afternoon, until it wasn’t. Until his hands were around you, and you were kissing, and you knew it was so wrong to be attached to that.

Your phone buzzed, and he was calling you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hey” You mumbled, your voice softer and shakier than you intended.

“Is everything okay…?”

“Yeah” You swallowed, “Sorry, I was just about to reply”

“No, don’t worry. I just got worried. I thought—” He trailed off.

“What did you think?”

“I thought I crossed a boundary…or something”

You paused, trying to comprehend his words. All he’d done was ask you if you missed him. How could that be a boundary when you and Hyunjin had said so much more? Done so much more? 

Was missing each other not even okay anymore? Was it too much for him?

Another sob threatened to break at the implication.

“Y/N? Are you still there?” He asked, voice soft and calm, not knowing the storm it brewed inside you.

You mumbled, “Yes, I’m here”

“Okay” He spoke, letting you breathe.

“I’m sorry, I just…I guess I miss you more than I thought I would” You admitted, hoping it wouldn’t be too much for him. That it wouldn’t push him away.

“Oh” 

“Yeah”

“I…miss you too, Y/N” 

It calmed your racing heart.

“I wish I could see you” You fumbled through the words, “It’d make me feel so much…better”

Hyunjin was quiet for a while, “I’m sorry”

“It’s…not your fault” A smile graced your lips, because he had no reason to apologise for your lives being so separate from each other.

“It is. I’m sorry I’ve been away…I got really caught up with everything here. Seeing my friends again, having this life back, it was more overwhelming than I thought. But don’t worry…I’m doing really well here”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been painting a lot more when I’m free, or when I’ve had a horrible day”

Your heart clenched at his tone, and the implication that it was only a few weeks since he was gone but he’d already had multiple horrible days. 

“Yeah? I’m glad it helps. That means…coming home wasn’t a waste”

“A waste?” He repeated, confused, “Why would you say that?”

You pulled at your laces, watching the rain fall at your footsteps, “Nothing, Hyunjin. It doesn’t matter”

“You seem…upset. Did I say something wrong?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, away from the pitter patter of the drops, “I told you. I really wish you were here. I know it’s impossible”

“Yeah…”

“This morning, I was watching the news…about Jisung’s trial. How’s it going?”

“It’s…okay. He’s so tired already, he kind of just wants to settle but the company lawyers are pushing for more”

“I’m sorry. That sounds so exhausting” You bite your lip, because their lives are already as stressful as they could get, and this legal battle plays in the backdrop like a nuisance.

“They’re also restricting a lot of shit for us. We have to be careful each time we step out in public, and Jisung even has to monitor every phone call…same with Chan and Kairi”

“How long is it going to last?”

“Hopefully not too long, but anyway, that’s not important right now at all. You sound upset. How are you?” He asks, voice becoming softer all of a sudden.

You fear you’re going to sound like a broken record if you tell him you miss him again. These days you seem to fill all your silences with just those words. Would he get sick of hearing them? Is this how long distance relationships are like? Endlessly telling each other you miss them, but never being able to do anything about it.

Instead, you end up saying something absolutely crazy, “Hyun, can I come see you?”

You don’t intend for the words to leave your brain, much less your mouth. In fact, you didn’t even know you were going to say them. You haven’t had time to plan, but Minho’s conversation rings through you. You’ve been saving up to go to Seoul your whole life. You can spare a vacation. It would be worth it if it means you see him.

Hyunjin is quiet, and then he breaks the silence with a chuckle, “W-what?”

“Um, sorry that sounds out of nowhere. I just…I really want to meet you. I miss you, and it sounds like you’re going through a lot. Maybe it’ll help” You trail off, leaving the suggestion up in the air.

“I…I’m not sure, Y/N”

You nod, because it is crazy, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Fuck, I’m so sorry but I…I don’t think I can meet you. Right now, with everything that’s going on, I honestly don’t have the time and…” He trails off.

You nod again, “Yeah. I understand”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s okay. It’s bad timing”

“It’s bad timing” He repeats, yet his tone is definitive and final.

You can’t seem to see a time in the future which would get better. After the album release, he was going to go on a press tour, and then start preparing for the next album, the music videos, the solo photoshoots…the world tour.

Hyunjin was never going to have time for this, and your throat becomes clogged with a broken dream.

He sighed, softly, “How are you going to get home then, if it’s raining?”

“I’ll wait it out”

“What if it rains till morning?”

You smiled, your silence saying enough.

“I’ll stay with you” He says.

Your brows shot up, “What? Don’t you have…a schedule or an interview to get to?”

His voice came in softly, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll stay with you, till the rain ends”

Now, you wished it would never end.

»»————-

The incessant abuse of your doorbell woke you up. It had been pressed countless times, and it was half past nine. 

Why the hell would anybody come to see you this early?

Last night, Hyunjin had stayed on the call as you’d walked home by yourself. You didn’t talk the whole way, of course. In between, he would be quiet, and you’d only hear the rustling of papers and his pencil as he sketched away in his condominium. You’d hear his breaths, and occasionally, he’d say something. 

In moments like this, he was a man of few words. You appreciated that, because it was nice, to just exist with him. Although, you were slightly embarrassed at how many times you told him you missed him.

Turning over in your bed, you pushed the pillow over your head to make the noise disappear. 

A buzzing of your phone, followed by another short bursts of the doorbell made you sit up.

Who could be here to see you, so urgently, and so fucking impatiently?

“What the hell” You mumbled, getting out of bed, and rushing barefoot on the cold tiles, to answer, and in your sleepy daze you hoped it was him. That by some miracle, Hyunjin had heard your wishes and come to see you.

On the other side of the door, with bagels in hand, stood Felix. 

A hood pulled over his head to protect from the rain, he certainly looked a vision. 

Your sleep disappeared, in lieu of confusion, “Yongbok?”

He smiled, perfect teeth on display, “Morning. I…see that you were still asleep”

You hugged yourself, realising how exposed you were in your sleep shorts and tank. Although that had never been a problem around him before, “I mean yeah…it’s barely ten”

He cocked his head, “It’s almost noon”

“What?” Your heart dropped, “You’re kidding me”

“I’m really not” He laughed, and then said, “Are you going to let me in? It’s freezing out here”

You realised he was standing in the pouring rain, and you stepped back, “Oh, of course”

You still didn’t know what he was doing here, but years of friendship fell back into place and you let him in.

He pulled the hood off, shaking his hair to get the water out, and looked apologetic, “Sorry, I just showed up. I did try texting you, and I thought you’d be awake”

“I got in late last night” You told him, still standing against your open door, watching Felix in your foyer.

“Oh, were you stuck because of the rain? You could have called me, I’d have come picked you up” 

“No, that’s okay. I was on a call”

Realisation crossed his features, “Right. How is he?”

Slight irritation coursed through you, “I didn’t say it was him”

Felix nodded, looking genuinely apologetic, “Sorry. My mistake.”

But of course, he was right because it was Hyunjin you were talking to, but you wouldn’t admit that now, and you held back a groan. 

His eyes flickered over your body, “Why are you still standing at the door? You’ll catch a cold”

“What are you doing here?” You hugged yourself tighter, well-aware that you didn’t even have a bra on, “The last time I saw you, you said you didn’t want to be friends with me anymore”

His eyebrows shot up, and he stared at you.

For a second, you did regret it. It was too early to fight. It was too beautiful a morning for this.

Until he laughed, nervously, “Um…that’s not what I meant. Is that what you got from it?”

You frowned, “What?”

He shook his head, “Um, I guess I really didn’t get the point across. I thought you understood me that night. Isn’t that why you’re avoiding me?”

Your head hurt, “I’m not avoiding you…You’re confusing me, Felix. It’s too early for this”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Hey, look, why don’t you get dressed, and take a shower, and I can make us some coffee…and heat up these bagels by then? After that, maybe we could talk?”

“Talk about what?”

You couldn’t understand him.

“About everything. I realise I’ve been apologising for my actions, but never really explaining why I acted that way this whole time”

But he had been your friend your entire life…so you would hear him out now.

»»————-

He sat at your breakfast table, warm bagels laid out across a plate, with two hot cups of coffee.

You sat across him, pulling your feet up, eyeing his movements.

It wasn’t alien to you…this kindness of his. He had done this countless times before, showed up at your house uninvited, but this time was different, of course.

“I really am sorry for waking you up. I genuinely thought you’d be awake, I thought you had a shift at Aera’s”

“I haven’t had a shift at Aera’s on Tuesday, ever” You responded.

“Oh” He laughed, “Maybe I should have memorised your work schedule back when you started working there…I guess I always assumed it was a temporary job”

You bit into a bagel, unable to hold back your hunger, and it instantly melted in your mouth. A rush of endorphins flooded through you, and you sat back for a minute, letting the taste sit with you, letting your body wake up.

Felix watched you, a soft smile on his face, “You like them?”

“You didn’t have to bake these for me” You spoke, staring at your feet, perched on the chair.

“But I did” He reached his hand out, across the table, “How are you doing?”

You glanced up at him, “I’m…fine”

He frowned, “Your eyes are all swollen. I know what that means”

You pulled your hand back from his, “It’s nothing. I’m just tired of summer”

He sat back, eyebrows raised, “Those are words I never thought I’d hear from you”

“Well…you won’t really understand, Lix”

He slid the cup of coffee towards you, “Try me” 

You stared at him, eyes flickering between his, and then reached forward for the cup, “I don’t know. I feel tired of everything lately. I don’t really want to make an effort to go out. I go to work, and back, and so on. It’s kind of a futile existence”

“I go to the Creek every night. You can come with me”

You hugged yourself, “Yeah, but I just feel like there’s more I should be doing”

His tongue poked his cheek, “You mean…that art apprenticeship” 

You glanced up at him, heart heavy, “I lost that”

“I’m sorry. You could have told me, you know?”

You’ve been hearing that a lot recently, but you know keeping it a secret was the only way it could have worked. He said he would have understood, but you knew him better than that.

“I was afraid of losing you, but…” You laughed, “That happened anyway”

He shook his head, pulling his chair closer to yours, “At the drive-in theatre, when I said I didn’t want us to be friends again…I didn’t mean it like that. There was more I wanted to say, which I couldn’t”

“Wow, you’re really getting right to it”

He laughed, “What? So, would you prefer we talk about nonsense for another hour? I know why I’m here, I’d feel better if you know too”

You weren’t sure you wanted to hear this, but you nodded, “Keep going”

“I guess what I wanted to say was…” He paused, and when your eyes met his, you realised he was actually nervous.

“Yeah?”

His eyes squeezed shut, and then opened, “I was really fucking jealous”

“Of…what?”

He laughed, a sound you’d loved all these years, “Of…Hyunjin. Obviously. Who else?”

“Felix…we talked about this. You have nothing to be jealous about. Just because he’s in my life now, does not mean you can’t be”

He laughed, “No, that’s not what I’m jealous of. I don’t really care if he’s in your life”

“Then what?” 

He sighed, leaning forward, and this angle put him in the path of sunlight. It lit up his face, highlighting the freckles splashed across his nose bridge, and his cheeks, and you saw his lips part to form the words, “You love him.”

Confusion arising, you frowned, “Felix—”

“Let me finish” He laughed, “It’s…been obvious for months”

You were embarrassed, to say the least.

He tilt his head, “Has it not been obvious to you?” 

Your face flushed, from the frustration and the embarrassment, “What, my feelings for him?”

“No. My feelings for you"

He said it so simply.

So fucking simple, and you couldn’t even react.

You sat there, looking at him.

Putting together his words in your mind. Again. And Again.

You misheard him. You had to.

“Yongbok”

“It is what you think it is” He paused, “I really thought that you knew”

“You…” A nervous laugh escaped you, and it wasn’t your proudest moment, “You have feelings for me? You’re fucking with me, right?”

You wanted to ask why. But you didn’t.

“Since when?”

“I don’t know” He leaned back, “I…didn’t really realise it until, well, this summer”

“Oh”

“Yeah” He swallowed, “But I know that you don’t feel the same, and I was acting stupid. It was dumb of me”

You stared at him and don’t know how you didn’t realise this. How did you not put two and two together? You felt so fucking dumb for missing all the hints, and all the clues. 

“Yongbok. I…um, I don’t know what to say. Sorry, I’m just…overwhelmed and confused”

"You don’t have to say anything” He laughed, “You’re like…my best friend in the fucking universe. I know that doesn’t sound like much, because I mean, we’re twenty and best friends makes it sound like we’re in elementary, but it’s true. You’re literally the most consistent person in my life, and I’m always fucking happy around you. Not just happy, but at peace. I’m happy with Hana, and Minho, and Eunbi too, but with you, it’s like I’m home.”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, “Felix…”

“I’m sorry for all the times I yelled at you. I’m fucking terrible at holding back my frustration, and I was still navigating my…emotions. I could lie and say I never meant to hurt you when we had all those arguments, but I did. I did want you to feel the kind of hurt I did. That’s probably the biggest red flag” He laughed, “But holy shit, Y/N, you have no idea what it took for me to tell you this. With him being here, I just couldn’t because that’s so fucking cliche, it’d be like I was asking you to choose”

You stared at him, uncomfortable, unable to comprehend the extent of his words, “You should have told me”

“I’m telling you now. I know it’s awkward for you, but I have nothing to lose” He chuckled, “I’m not asking you out, or anything. I just want you to know because it was driving me crazy keeping it to myself. In fact, I was never planning to tell you, but the night of my birthday party, during that stupid spin the bottle game, when we kissed, I thought you felt the same”

You remembered the kiss. 

It had surprised you how much you liked it.

“I mean, you’re a really good kisser” You admitted, picking from crumbs from the bagel.

He laughed, “Am I?”

“Yeah” 

“I try” He smirked, and you know he was trying to lighten the mood. It was so typical of him to make jokes out of an awkward situation, “You’re a really good kisser too. I know after the party, I gave you a 7.5 on the kissing scale, but…I was obviously kidding”

You looked up at him, “Really?”

He nodded, still smiling, “I’m sure Hyunjin would agree with me”

Just like that, the bubble popped.

Your smile fell.

“Sorry” He apologised, “You guys have kissed, right?”

“Yeah”

“And he still went back to Seoul?” He laughed, “Man, being an idol really sucks”

“Yongbok…”

“Okay” He laughed, “I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh”

You didn’t know what this was, or what to make of it.

What are you supposed to say that? You felt an obligation, to return his feelings, despite all the arguments you had in the recent months, you wish you could return them. 

You didn’t want to be the one breaking his heart, or anybody’s. 

Is this how Hyunjin would feel if you’d told him you loved him? 

Would you have also lightened your inevitable rejection by stupid humour? 

You don’t know what you can possibly say to Yongbok, to make things okay.

So later, when he’s helping you wash the cups, foam-filled hands, you ask him, “Are you going to be okay?”

Yongbok looks up at you, a soft smile on his features, and you again realise how beautiful he looked in the sunlight. His skin is lit up, a kindness in his eyes has returned, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, and he tells you he’s okay.

He tells you not to worry, and that you owe him nothing. He then dips his hand in the foamy sink, reaching up to smear some on your nose, a childlike laughter filling your kitchen.

You wonder if you would feel the same relief, if you confessed the truth to Hyunjin.

»»————-

Your phone rings later that evening, and it’s Hyunjin.

He asks you if you’re okay, and if you’re better than you were yesterday.

You were on the brink of tears last night.

Today, you are better.

Yongbok’s words come back to you, and you wonder why you don’t love him. It sure would have made everything a little easier. 

Everything makes sense now, the way he’s been acting all summer, his behaviour around Hyunjin, and you feel a little stupid for being so oblivious to it.

When you drift off into thought, Hyunjin asked you again, if you were okay.

“I met Yongbok” You responded.

His voice lit up, at your rekindled friendship, “Yeah? What did you guys do?”

You tell him about the bagels, and the coffee, and because you can never keep anything from Hyunjin, you end up blurting, “He told me he loves me. That he has his entire life”

You don’t know why you say it. You’re looking for a reaction. Or for consolation.

But Hyunjin is quiet on the other end, and he doesn’t say much for the rest of the night, and you wonder if you should have just kept it to yourself.

»»————-

Hyunjin doesn’t call you the next day, or the next, or the one after that. 

You try to distract yourself, stealing away work hours into painting. 

Each brushstroke soothed you, and you pour out your emotions. 

Unrequited love is a bitch, and you feel guilty every time you see Felix, but he’s more than okay. You can’t imagine being the same. 

Your paintings end up all looking really sad. They make you feel sad when you look at them, and you realise you’re only painting of longing.

Hyunjin finally texts you.

It’s only to tell you that Chan and Kairi broke up.

He doesn’t say much more, but he doesn’t have to.

You knew what they meant to them, and perhaps this breakup impacted him more than them.

You go back to painting your solitude. 

It’s calming, under the glow of your lamp, tucked in a corner of your room, you lose yourself in your art. 

Autumn is closer than it was yesterday, and it makes you sad. Summer is further away in your past now, and so is he.

Hyunjin’s texts get less frequent, as the days go by.

You feel obsessive, you feel just a little crazy.

You feel like a teenage girl waiting for her crush to call back.

Your heart breaks a little more with each hour that he doesn’t call.

You’re worried all the time, if he was okay.

You read about the scandals on the news, and the rumours on the internet, and some of them involve him but most of them involve Jisung. 

Yeonjun keeps you updated on the trial, and all the press outlets that Jisung has sued. 

Hyunjin doesn’t have space in his life for a relationship, but as days pass, it feels like he doesn’t for a friendship either.

hyun

hey yn

im so sorry

i’ve had a horrible schedule the past few days

they’re really trying to make up for everything I missed

i haven’t been sleeping much and i just…haven’t got much time on my phone

my managers have been really strict

they limit my activities on there

but don’t worry im okay

i spend most of my time in the studio

i miss you too. a lot

His replies soothe you, more than your own art ever could. 

You fall into a habit. You check the news each morning, even before your first sip of coffee, worried if he’s okay.

Hyunjin keeps telling you he’s fine, and you force yourself to believe him.

He sends you pictures of his art, and you notice how much he’s improved. He’s using all of the techniques you taught him. He’s painting about all of his days in your hometown.

Other nights, you don’t hear from him at all.

You feel it falling apart, and your heart breaks.

One day, he asks you about Yongbok again. 

You question if you should never have told him about the confession.

»»————-

The day his album releases, you listen to it before anybody in the world, or at least you’d like to believe so. 

It’s beautiful, and it’s raw. It’s a mix of every genre you can imagine. Hyunjin sings about love like he’s been in it. The album is more beautiful than you could anticipate, and you can already see the headlines surrounding it’s success.

Felix takes you to a store in Samhae, so you can purchase it for yourself, and when you find yourself in a line of twenty girls talking about him, you feel like fighting them.

You borrow Yuqi’s car, so you can push the CD into the stereo, and hear it before you can even get home.

The music Hyunjin makes is beautiful as him, and you hear the vocal fry, and the cadence he speaks with, and you fall in love with him even more.

It feels like cheating, as Felix sits in the passenger seat, listening to the same songs.

You wanted to ask him what he thinks of the album, but you hold back.

When you got home, you sat in the darkness of your room, and listened to it again, just by yourself. 

You called him to tell him what you think of it, but he’s at a party and he has no time for this. 

So you end up keeping your thoughts just to yourself. 

»»————-

You stared at the letter mail within your hands.

It arrived a few days ago, but you hadn’t noticed it until now.

It had been lying in your mailbox, gathering dust, and you stood on the sidewalk, wondering how you the hell you missed it.

It was from the city.

Your heart dropped into your gut, as you ripped open the envelope, making sure not to damage the contents inside.

You took a deep breath.

Holy shit.

It was going to be a rejection.

It had to be.

You stood absolutely still on the pavement, unfolding the letter. It’s so thin you’re afraid you’re going to rip it.

You can’t read this alone. You wish Hyunjin would here, it’d probably feel less scary.

But you can’t wait either. You need to know now.

You scanned the paper, yet your brain couldn’t comprehend the sentences, and skipped forward, registering only certain words. Like a record skipping.

A word stands out to you.

Congratulations.

And then you go back to the start of the letter, trying to make sense of what you just read, but your heart is already beating out of your chest and you think you’re going to pass out.

Congratulations.

Kim Jieong would be honoured to have you join him as an apprentice for his Fall Program in Painting at the Atelier of the Arts in Seoul, South Korea.

You reread the words until they were seared into your mind, and into your heart.

You read them until the paper became wet with droplets, and you realise you were crying. 

On the side of the sidewalk. 

Then you read them again.

You folded the piece of paper into your pocket, and you texted the boy you loved.

hyunjin!

when can i call you?

i have something to tell you

it’s really important

You wait for his answer, but your message doesn’t deliver.

So you sat down on your front porch, trying to calm your heart but you’re bursting with excitement and anticipation. You’ve already texted Felix and Minho, but you’re only waiting for one person’s reaction.

You need to tell him now. 

He could be busy. He could be at work, or in bed, but you don’t care.

He has to be the first to know.

You find yourself dialling his number, and your hands are shaking, and your heart is trembling.

Hyunjin doesn’t pick up.

And you’re met with an unfamiliar message.

“We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

»»————-

THREE MONTHS LATER

»»————-

“Take my hand if you don’t wanna fall” 

You looked up, and Felix is smiling down at you, the sun a halo around his head.

He’s got pink skates on, and it suits him. 

The brightness of them stands out in the park.

“You’re awfully confident for someone who’s fallen over…thrice now?” Minho laughs, coming to stand next to you, arms on his hips.

“I’ll be fine, Lix” You smiled, tightening the laces of your roller-skates.

“Let me at least help you up” He insisted.

You nodned, letting him take your hand and pull you up. You’re inches from him when you stand up, and he smiled at you.

“See you at the rink in a few?” He tilt his head.

“I’ll see you, Lix”

He let go of your hand, and you miss the steadiness it gave you, but almost instantly Minho comes to your side. With a hand on your back, he leads you to the rink. You’re still getting used to these roller-skates, and you’ve fallen over more than you’d liked.

“Aren’t you glad I dragged you out here?” He nudged you.

“Sure” You smiled at him, trying to match his pace. 

It’s a beautiful day at the park. There’s a harvest festival, where Felix bobbed for apples, and you cheered for him. Then Minho forced you all onto the rink, bringing you a new pair of skates since you couldn’t find your old ones. As you skated around the park with your friends, it almost feels like the old days.

The leaves had changed color.

The days were shorter now, and the sun hung low in the sky, the temperature dropping to single digits.

With the onset of fall, you stopped swimming in the Creek, and the fireflies disappeared, and you never left the house without a cardigan anymore. 

Aera’s kept you busy, and so did the weekends at The Château. You and Seungmin grew even closer, and you found joy in interacting with travelling tourists, searching for artistic pursuits and adventure in your little town. 

Felix explored his love for baking with you, and you recreated everything in his recipe book… except for the strawberry streusels. Yeonjun consistently kept in touch with, and told you of his life in the city, the drama in his workplace, and about the cute new girl that sat across him at work. 

You fell in love with the palette of autumn, and all your artworks became tinged with shades of orange and red. All of your sweaters became tainted with paint splatters, and the walls of your room became full with your memories of the summer.

“Are you going to take these with you? I bought them for you, full-price mind you” Minho asked you.

You sighed, “I don’t know”

“There has to be places in Seoul to skate in” He thought, and grabbed your hand so you can speed up. You smiled, feeling the wind on your face, desperately trying to not lose your balance.

“I don’t think I have space in my suitcase” You told him, as he stopped. 

Felix is on the other side, and he’s smiling at you. He looks cute, and he’s with his sister. She’s in matching pink rollerblades, and Felix has spent more than an hour teaching her how to skate.

There’s a couple next to them, and they’re holding hands and skating, and they keep kissing, and your chest hurts with the thought of him.

You haven’t been able to talk to him in months…

He doesn’t even know you got into the program.

His number changed, and he closed all of private social media.

“Hey?” Minho said, turning your head to look at him, and he can read your mind, “You’ll find him once you get to the city, it’s only a matter of time”

You frowned, “How? I don’t even know where he lives…I don’t even know if he’s okay”

“Well, you obviously know he’s alive” Minho joked, “He looks pretty good in all the interviews they did”

“I’m just worried about him” You mumbled, “It feels weird to go this long without hearing from him”

“It’s probably something with the company. Hyunjin told you how controlling they were, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, but…he’s not a kid. How can they control this shit in his life?”

You’ve had this same conversation millions of times before, over the past three months, but you still can’t understand what happened. You had tried every way to get in touch with him, but with how famous he was right now…it was impossible.

It’s not even like you can go to Facebook and add him as a fucking friend. 

“I can ask Felix to try” Minho asked.

“No” You insist, “It’s not gonna make a difference. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll see him soon”

You can’t help but have hope. At the beginning, you were worried, and then you were angry but now you’re just confused. You know he’d never change his contact information without telling you, or even Minho, or Seungmin. 

Something went wrong.

A huge reason you’re excited to go to Seoul, is so you can finally meet him, and know what happened, how he’s been, and if he’s okay.

You heard Felix call out to you.

“Wait, Y/N” Minho grabbed your arm, “I’m sure he’s even more upset than you”

Over the past few months, Minho has discussed all of his theories with you, about what could have happened. He’s so sure, that Hyunjin’s company is involved. You want to believe him, because there’s no way Hyunjin would do this.

“What are you two gossiping about?” Felix asked, skating over to you, and from where you stand, he really looked like a fairy, long hair blowing in the wind.

“Nothing important” You smiled at him, “Wanna skate with me now?”

“Always” He grinned. You let him take your hand, and pull you around the rink, guiding you through groups of friends, children and couples. 

“What are you wearing to the party tonight?” He asks, after a while, and his hand landed on your waist, helping you balance.

“Whatever outfit I haven’t packed” You admitted, honestly.

“Come on, you’re the star of the night” He spun in front of you, “You should wear the blue dress, the one you wore to Yeonjun’s party last year”

Tonight is the going away party that Minho is throwing for you. You can’t believe it’s already time. You leave tomorrow.

Everything has been building up to this, and you’re so excited, you think you could burst. You’re anxious too, because everything has to go right, it’s only what you’ve been dreaming about.

Your acceptance letter is tucked into a book, and it feels like only yesterday that you found out, but it’s already been months.

The night you got accepted, Felix baked you a chocolate cake. You were too shaken up, and confused about the fact that you couldn’t get through to Hyunjin, but you had to celebrate.

Felix… distracts you from all your worries. You’re grateful for his company.

“I don’t want to be the star” You told him.

Felix rolled his eyes, “You deserve it, love, and you have no choice”

You had been anxious about Hyunjin for months, confused, and heartbroken, but you have bigger things to worry about.

The program starts in a week, and you don’t have enough time to prepare.

Yet, you’ve been preparing for it all your life.

The money you’ve saved up happens to just be enough for a studio apartment, and Yeonjun helped you find a place in a busy neighbourhood.

Not that it mattered.

You would sleep in the subway if you had to, if it means you’ll get to learn from The Kim Jieong. The artist you’ve looked up to all your life, your inspiration, your muse, and your everything.

Later that night, Minho helped you pack, and you take only what you need. You can’t afford to leave your supplies at home, like he did, so you packed all of them. You keep aside the tattered brushes, because the city kids would definitely disapprove. 

Your suitcase filled up quickly, with an array of watercolours, and acrylics, and pastels, and you compromised on your clothes.

You only pack your favourite coat, and your dark sweaters, and the skirts you didn’t wear here yet.

The going away party is small, and you love and hate every part of it. You wear the blue dress Felix wanted you to. Everybody there tells you you’ll do well, and you wonder if any of them secretly resent you, if they think you’re another person who gave into the city's false charms. Everybody who moves to the city from a small town is always celebrated, but you know you’ll probably be hated when you’re actually gone.

You’re in such a daze throughout, you don’t realise the importance of that night.

You’re not going away for long, but it’s still a huge deal.

The apprenticeship has a low acceptance rate, and they hardly take any students from Korea. It’s mostly international kids, and you can’t believe you get the chance to be amongst them.

After the party, you and Felix stay to help Minho clean up, and you stand on the threshold of the doorway, to catch your breath. Felix threw away the last of the beer bottles, and stood opposite you, leaning on the other end.

Your arms are folded behind your back, and you smile at him.

“I can’t believe Seonmi tried to get us to play spin the bottle again” 

You sigh, “I’m glad Minho shut them down”

Felix laughs, and then his shoulders sag as the laughter dies down, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired” You tell him, “But…I’m really fucking excited too”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving” He mumbles, for the tenth time that night, and he pushes his hands in his pockets.

“It’s not like I’m moving away forever” You tell him, “The apprenticeship is just a temporary program”

“But isn’t the point of it to get a job in the city?” He asks.

“There’s only a few spots open, for the people that perform the best”

“Then you’re definitely not coming back” He says, smiling, placing unwavering faith in you.

“We’ll see” You shrug.

“Is he coming to pick you up from the station?” He asks.

You nod, “If he can make it. He’s been busy recently”

“You promise to keep me in your life?” He suddenly asks, tilting his head. You notice his hair’s grown longer in the fall, falling to his shoulders. The blonde suits him, the glow of the porch lights sharpen his cheekbones, and the shadows on his face.

“You’d push your way back, even if I didn’t” You tell him.

He laughs, knowing it’s the truth, “I’ve had the privilege of knowing you since we were…kids. I’m never letting you go, you know that?”

His words are meant to comfort you, but the irony doesn’t fail to strike.

He must have noticed the fall in your expression, because he steps forward, “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

“I’m…kind of a little terrified” You admit, eyes downcast, watching the pink shoelaces of Felix’s worn-out shoes.

“You’ve been painting your whole life. Everybody’s going to fall in love with you there, I can bet my life on that”

“I only need Kim Jieong to fall in love with me” You joke.

“And he will. You’ll spare no one”

You swallow, “Thank you. I know you never really wanted me to move away. But I’m really glad you understand how much this means to me”

“I rather you be away from me than be miserable in this little town” He admits, and his finger meets the end of your chin. He tilts your head up, so you’re looking him right in the eye.

“That doesn’t sound like you” You mumble.

He rolls his eyes, “I know. The things I do for you”

You smile, “Thank you”

“I’m really gonna miss you” He admits, “You’ll come home for the next summer though, right?”

You nod, and his hand is still on your chin, “Of course. I’ll be here”

His lips pull up into a smile, and his eyes are bright, and the freckles on his skin look far too much like stardust right now.

“You’ll be here. That’s why summer’s my favourite season” He mumbles, but his voice is suddenly hoarse now, half of his words lost in his mouth. 

He’s staring right at you, and you feel the breath leave your lungs. 

It reminds you of the night of his birthday and how he came to your rescue, kissing you to save you from embarrassment.

“Can I kiss you?” He suddenly asks you, the depth of his voice prickling through you.

Apparently, he was thinking of the same thing.

The words throw you for a loop, but yet they don’t. 

He knows you don’t feel the same way for him. He knows that you’re in love with someone else. But he still asks. It’s a goodbye kiss. It doesn’t mean much more. 

So, you say yes, and he swallows your words in a kiss.

He presses you up against the doorway, but he doesn’t deepen the kiss. His lips move against yours, and his hands hold you, and all you can think about how is how different this feels.

It’s not that you’ve given up on Hyunjin. In fact, in a few days, you’ll be closer to him than you’ve ever been, under the same night sky, breathing the same air.

Your hands stay behind you, pressed into the doorway, and you feel the slightest urge to run them through his hair, but you don’t. 

Felix kisses you sweetly, and when he pulls away, there’s no awkwardness. He lets out a laugh, pulling playfully at your cheeks and mumbles something about making sure you don’t miss the train in the morning.

That night, when you’re packing away the last of your things, you reached for the sketchbook you had left at Hyunjin’s house. It laid by your bedside, but you haven’t opened it in weeks. You decided to take it with you, if only for the memories and the sketches you’ll make on the journey.

As you reach to put it in your suitcase, something dropped from within its pages and landed on the wooden floor.

Frowning, you bent down to pick it up. 

It’s a vertical photo strip, and when you flip it over, your breath stops in your throat.

It’s the pictures from the photobooth.

Of you and Hyunjin kissing, in the pink lights.

How the fuck did that get in here?

You’re absolutely sure he had deleted them, right in front of your own eyes.

It stirs memories within you, plunging you right back into that moment, the hot, heavy kisses that you shared, the tightness with which he gripped your hips, the urgency with which you touched each other.

Your core tightened, and you sit on the floor to take a breath.

You stared at the strip of pictures. Your first instinct is to text him, and ask where he got them, but you can’t even contact him. 

It’s another question you can’t wait to ask him, when you finally see him again.

A tsunami of feelings overwhelms you, and you know that you can’t blame him for this sudden rift between you, because you can still feel the intensity with which he held you, and moments like that can’t be temporary.

A new buzz runs through your veins, and you hold the photo strip tight to your chest, wondering when it would be real again.

»»————-

The stars in the sky were replaced by the skyscraper lights, as your train hurtled closer to its destination.

Clutching your ticket in your hand, your eyes were peeled to the window, watching the city skyline become closer, and closer, until the buildings loomed over you. 

You’d seen the city through pixels and in coffee table books but never like this. 

Your camera ran out of film before you’d even arrived, and perhaps you should have prepared for that. You couldn’t stop your excitement. Everything was new, and everything was gorgeous. You took pictures of your ticket, of your seat, of the view.

You have to document this. In every form possible.

The cute boy across you even offered to share a pack of Peppero sticks halfway through the ride, and you hoped everybody in the city was as kind as him.

There were more people at the platform than in the entirety of Daejon, and you held your bags tightly to you, making your way through the crowd. At a certain point, you weren’t even walking, just pushed toward the nearest exit, going with the flow of the crowd around you. 

Each breath brought a new scent, fighting for your attention in the crowd. The musty luggage that had travelled all over the country being dragged against the concrete. 

There must be a cafe nearby, because the aroma of coffee wafted through the air, and it wasn’t till the scent of pastries hit you that you realised you were starving.

There’d be time for food later.

The faint hint of cologne and perfume clouded your senses, different kinds of fragrances worn by the people who walked through the station.

It was overwhelming, a sensory overload, but you had expected this chaos.

You welcomed it.

He was waiting for you at the platform.

Relief flooded through you at the familiar face amongst the crowd. 

“Look at her” He remarked, a small smile overtaking him.

“Fuck” You ran up to him, navigating through the few people still in your way. 

His arms wrapped around you immediately, lifting you off the ground momentarily, and his scent was familiar and it was known, and it calmed you instantly. You buried your face in his neck, letting him hold you to his body in the crowd.

“You’re here” He breathed, pulling back to look at you, eyes wide.

“I missed you” You admitted, reaching out to grab his hand, “Thank you…for coming to pick me up”

He squeezed yours in return, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world” 

“No, I’m serious. Thank you, Yeonjun”

He stared at you, eyes crinkling in appreciation and love, “You don’t have to thank me”

The crowd moved around you, like a river around a rock, as you held him close to you. 

Everything was unfamiliar here, but him.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here” He smiled, grabbing your bags.

Walking out of the station felt like stepping into a dream you’d forgotten.

You’d studied these streets, and dreamt of these buildings, but now you stood amongst them. Awe and fascination swelled in your heart, and if it wasn’t for Yeonjun keeping a hold on you, you’d probably stop and stare at every little thing.

The neon lights danced along the alleyways, casting colors onto everyone around you.

It was so typical. 

It was just like the movies.

You picked up on snippets of conversations, leftovers of drama, but it was crazy, because for the first time, you didn’t know who they were gossiping about. There were no familiar faces or names, a reality you could never live before.

In the distant, you could hear street musicians and you stopped, pulling at Yeonjun’s sleeve, “Can we go see that?”

You’ve seen far too many Youtube videos about this, and you have been waiting to experience this yourself.

He laughed, gesturing to your luggage, “With all this stuff in our hands?”

“Right” You realised.

“Hey, we can always come back to this. Let’s get you settled in first, yeah?” He said, reaching forward to tuck your hair back in a gesture that soothed you.

“I know. I just…I’m excited. Sorry” You apologised.

“Don’t be sorry. I was the same my first day here” He said, sincerely, “I’m glad I have you to share this with. Although you’re already doing better than me, I was so overwhelmed”

You swallowed, “I am too, but…I want to be”

Yeonjun’s lips curled up into a smile, “Yeah?”

“I’ve thought about this moment for a long time, Jun”

“I know” He smiled, then tugged at your hand, “Now come on, we’re almost at your apartment”

You let him tug you along, because you were too lost taking everything in to navigate yourself. 

It was overwhelming, 

But you embraced it.

»»————-

“Are you sure this is the right building?”

“Mmh, I checked on the map. It’s definitely the red building”

“It…looks different than it did online” You said, staring at the apartment.

“I’m sure it’s nicer inside” He shot you a calm look. 

He grabbed the heavier suitcase, before attempting to push the door open. 

It didn’t budge, and he stopped, “Is the door locked or something?”

“Um, they told me it’d be open till six” You mumbled, glancing at your phone to check the time.

“Well, it’s certainly not open” Yeonjun muttered, trying to push it open with his shoulder. 

His efforts were met with no real results, and he released a frustrated sigh.

“Maybe I can try” You side-stepped him, lamely attempting to turn the knob.

“You know, it’s not that cold” Yeonjun rolled his eyes at the thick gloves you had on.

“It’s cold for me” You defended. 

Daejon almost had the same weather year-round. 

You weren’t used to the chill that came this up north.

“I pray for you when winter comes” He added.

You turned to him, arms crossed, “So…are we just going to stand here the rest of the night?”

“Why don’t you call the landlord?”

You bit your lip, “I wouldn’t wanna inconvenience him” 

Yeonjun sighed, dropping the duffel bag on the pavement, “You literally can’t get into your apartment. I think he’ll understand”

Your new life in the city was off to a great start.

“Maybe I can try again tomorrow” You spoke, “Could I stay at your place tonight?”

“Y/N” He stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder, “You can, but you’re not going to be bothering him, I promise you. This is kind of his job”

You stared at him, and sighed, “You’re right. But, before I call him, do you think there’s another entrance to the place? Maybe we’re at the wrong one”

Yeonjun looked up at the facade of the building. All the blinds to the apartment windows were shut, and he kept his hands on his hips, “I’ll check around the back”

“Thank you” You nodded, “I’ll try the door here”

You peeled off your gloves, turning the knob again, hoping that it might work this time.

You pushed at it with your shoulder, and to your surprise, the door burst open, plunging you inside. 

Somebody else had opened the door from the inside.

“Fuck” You collided with them, flushing with embarrassment.

“Whoa” He exclaimed, hands coming up to your shoulders, “Are you okay?”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry” You stepped back, looking up at him.

Was everyone in Seoul a fucking model or something?

His hair fell into his eyes, sharp features and a jawline that immediately stood out to you. 

He seemed to be younger than you.

He observed your form, eyes flickering over your figure before he stepped back, to let you breathe, “Were you…breaking in to my apartment or something?”

“No!” You immediately responded in horror, eyes wide, “I…I’m Y/N”

His eyebrows shot up, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“I’m the new resident on the sixth floor” You explained, voice unsure by the second, “Mr. Kwon didn’t mention me?”

“Oh” His eyes widened in recognition, “Right. He did. I didn’t think you’d be coming in today. Bad weather to be moving in”

“You’re right” You laughed, pushing your hands in your pockets, “So, uh…I’m Y/N”

He smiled, eyes crinkling, “Hi, Y/N. I’m Jeongin”

“Sorry about the door. I couldn’t get in” 

“It tends to get stuck in the cold sometimes” He explained, then looked behind you, “Is that all the stuff you have?”

You turned back, “Yeah. My friend’s gone around the block…to look for another entrance”

Jeongin smiled brightly, like he had no troubles in the world, “Well, I can help you get your bags up, unless you wanna wait for your friend to come back?”

“I’ll just tell him I got the door open” You explained, reaching for your phone to text Yeonjun. 

Your new neighbour, Jeongin, watched as you typed out the text, and then reached forward, to pick up the duffel you’d abandoned on the street.

“You probably shouldn’t leave your stuff out like that” He laughed, grabbing the handle of your suitcase, “Some scumbags are just looking for an opportunity like that”

“Oh” You realised, feeling dumb for leaving your things unattended.

Jeongin pulled your suitcase and duffel bag up the porch stairs, before shooting you a glance, “I’m guessing you’re new to the city”

“It’s obvious?” You laughed, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it” He shook it off with a hand, as you followed him up the stairs, “I’m on the second floor, by the way”

You clutched the rusty bannister with one hand, craning your neck to observe the atrium. The centre of the staircase had a skylight, but it was pitch-black outside.

He glanced back at you, “If you ever find yourself stuck outside, you can shoot me a text. I’m almost always home”

You followed him up to the sixth floor, “Thank you, that’s really nice of you. Are you in university?”

He nodded, “I take my classes online though. You?”

“I’m here for an art internship”

“Where’d you move here from?” He asked, as you made your way to the door, and you handed him the keys. 

“Daejon. It’s a small town down south, near the beach and the mountains. You probably haven’t heard of it”

He turned to you, with a grin, “Sounds beautiful”

You unlocked the door to your unit, and thankfully this lock was easier than the one below. 

Flicking the switches on, you glanced around.

The apartment certainly was…something. 

It was a studio, unfurnished, one bedroom, one bath.

The walls and floor were bare, and there was hardly any lighting, but that could be fixed.

Everything could be fixed.

You had made it here, and that’s what mattered.

A little kitchen window looked out into a fire escape, glimpses of the city visible. 

It excited you already. You could set up an easel there and learn to paint this new landscape.

You’d brought no artwork with you…but the new paintings you made could decorate the walls, and soon the place would fill up with your new memories of the city.

There was so much potential.

“It’s not bad. Mr. Kwon gave you one of the better units” The boy commented, and you realised he was still here, as you’d been fantasising about your new place.

“Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” 

Jeongin raised an eyebrow, “Why would I want to make you feel better? We’ve only known each other like… thirty seconds”

Your eyes widened, and for a second you wondered if he actually meant it, before he burst into a laugh.

“Sorry” He giggled, “I was kidding. Did you think I was not?”

“And how would I know you were kidding? I just met you, like you said” You exhaled.

He laughed, walking back to you, “Why would I be so rude to you for no reason?”

You shrugged, hugging yourself, “I don’t know…maybe you’re an asshole”

“Ouch” He laughed.

“Who are you?” A familiar voice interrupted, and you turned to see Yeonjun stood at the doorway. His eyes were wide, and his hair was wet from the rain. You felt guilty for leaving him out in the cold, but he was more concerned about the stranger in your apartment.

“Who are you?” Jeongin asked him in return, “How’d you get in?”

Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed, “The door was open downstairs”

“Shit” He mumbled, “Mr Kwon will kill me”

“Why are you in my friend’s living room?” Yeonjun asked.

“I was helping her in”

Yeonjun shot you a look, and you shrugged, “What?”

Jeongin looked between the two of you awkwardly, “I gotta go close up downstairs”

“Sure. Thank you for letting me in by the way”

“Course. No problem” He smiled, pushing his hands in his denim jacket pockets as he left. 

Once he was out of earshot, Yeonjun shut the apartment door, and raised an eyebrow at you, “Who was he?”

“Yang Jeongin” You leaned against the kitchen counter, letting out a breath, “He opened the door for me”

“And you let him into your apartment. What if he’s a creep?”

“Relax, Jun. At least I’m inside now”

He looked around, observing the place, “Well, at least there’s no mold here or anything”

You stare at him, “Are you kidding me? The place is… perfect”

He laughs, “What?”

You run up to him, pulling him into a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you”

He wrapped his arms around you, “Someone’s happy”

You looked up at him, “Of course I am. This is what I’ve wanted my entire life”

“You didn’t seem this excited downstairs” He pointed out.

“I was worried for a second there” You say, “But now I’m so happy”

He laughed, “Fuck. I’m happy for you”

You let go of him, to sit on your new couch, in your new home.

“If I get some cute stuff and more lights, it’ll be nice, right?”

He walked over to the kitchen window, peering out at the view, “Just be careful to keep the blinds closed at night”

“Why?” You frowned.

“There’s a lot of creepy people in the city”

You smiled, dropping your head back on the couch, “I don’t care”

He laughed again, stepping over to you, “When do you want to unpack?”

“Is it crazy if I say right now? I kind of want to put all my stuff in place”

“No, it’s not crazy. You’re not tired?”

“I’ve been preparing for this my whole life, so no”

He chuckled, “I’m guessing you’re going to be saying that a lot”

He walked over to the bedroom, “It’s smaller than on the website. You’ll have to buy a bed”

“I know” You hummed, closing your eyes, to take everything in. If you sat here quietly, you’d be able to hear the sirens, the pedestrians, the noise from all the shops.

“Do you wanna order some pizza?” He asked.

“That’s perfect”

As the hours pass, you put away all your clothes in the wardrobe. Yeonjun helped you arrange the paintbrushes and canisters in a corner. You’ve only had enough space to bring two canvases and you balanced them against your bedroom wall. 

Yeonjun played an English rock band he’s lately been obsessed with as you emptied the last of your suitcase.

The pizza arrived in no time, and Yeonjun brought it upstairs.

You’ve opened the kitchen window to let the city sounds in, and he smiles at your amused expression. Your apartment faces a busy street, but you love it. There’s absolutely no silence, and you think it’ll help you fall asleep at night.

Sitting on the floor, the pizza box lay between you as Yeonjun told you about his favourite spots in the city. He was a little overprotective, telling you to avoid certain neighbourhoods, but you appreciate him.

“Are you excited to join the internship?” He asked, biting down into the pepperoni.

“Apprenticeship” You corrected him.

“What’s the difference?” He laughed.

“Look it up” You rolled your eyes, tossing a pepperoni at him.

He nodded, “So you’re sticking in Seoul forever then?”

You laughed, “We’ll see”

“You didn’t answer my question” He repeated, popping open a coke can, a hissing sound accompanying it.

“I am excited. Obviously” You smiled, “Nervous to meet Kim Jieong though. He’s like my favourite artist, ever, in the entire observable universe”

Yeonjun laughed, passing you the coke can, “I better be the first to hear all about your first day”

“Who else will I even tell?” You laughed.

He nodded, swallowing the crusts, and choosing to stay quiet.

It’s awkward. Hyunjin’s thought hangs in the air.

He doesn’t know you’re here.

He doesn’t even know you got accepted.

“We could do something crazy. If you want”

“What?” You asked, curious.

“You’re probably gonna hate the idea” He laughed.

You scoot closer to him, “Tell me”

He bites into another piece, “You know where he works. The Pegasus headquarters. It’s not too far from your classes”

You stare at him as he talks. The idea makes you feel like a stalker.

“I can’t just show up at his workplace”

“Isn’t that how you two met in the first place? He showed up to your workplace?”

You grabbed the coke can from him, “You’re clever. But no…that’d be weird”

“How else are you going to get in touch with him?”

“I don’t know, but it is so weird to think that we’re under the same sky now”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, “You’re way too romantic. You know that you’re always under the same sky, right? No matter where you are on Earth”

“Shut up” You tossed a piece of pepperoni at him, “Don’t kill the mood”

“Fine. You’re breathing the same air as Hyunjin. I mean, if you really want to be romantic, you’ll probably bump into him sometime soon”

“There’s like ten million people in the city, Jun”

“Oh, now you’re logical?” He laughed. Yeonjun’s face suddenly lit up, and you know he’s had a terrible idea.

“What? Don’t tell me…” 

“I’m going to help you find him. That’s kind of my job”

“Finding people?” You laughed.

“No, tracking their digital footprints, and shit”

“How is that going to help us find Hyunjin again?”

“I don’t know. I’m still figuring that part out”

You rolled your eyes, and you lie down.

Your stomach is full, you’re tired, and the floor of your new place is cold, and you love it. You’re so happy. 

You’re right where you belong, and right where you were always supposed to be.

It feels right, and you smile to yourself.

“Do you want to go for a walk? Maybe we can explore your neighbourhood. You can get familiar with it” Yeonjun suggested.

You sat up so quickly, “That’s the greatest idea I’ve ever heard” 

So, he took you around the alleys, and you tried to memorise the names of the streets, and he showed you a coffee shop, and a Paris fucking Baguette. 

Your street is busy and full of life, even this late at night. Even from here, you could see the high-rise buildings surrounding you, glass houses, and everything is glamorous. 

“I literally feel like I’m inside a drama” You told Yeonjun, watching all of the little shops and snack stands. The mannequins in the window display wore clothes you could never get away with wearing back home.

But, you’ll wear them now.

It’s so much all at once.

He held your hand, introducing you to everything he knew of. 

You feel like a stranger in your own country. Everything is different here.

But you’re right where you belong, and as Yeonjun led you back home, you looked up at the sky.

It’s different too.

You realise Hyunjin was right all along.

There are no stars here. 

»»————-

It’s been less than a week, and you’re lost.

You’re not proud to admit it.

But the city is big, and you were only trying to find your way to The Atelier.

Cabs were expensive as hell, so you’d decided to walk, and take the trains but clearly you’d ended up in the wrong neighbourhood.

You called Yeonjun. Obviously.

“Look, Y/N. I still don’t understand what possessed you go visit your art building this late”

“I was impatient!” You admitted. Your classes don’t start for another week, but you wanted to check the place out. You couldn’t hold your excitement.

“You could’ve just waited for the weekend. I would have gone with you”

You snorted, “Right. What would you do in a place like that?”

“Hey, I can be artsy too” He retorted, “Now tell me what you see”

You stared ahead of you.

It’s busy, and there’s so many people. You turn a corner, and then another, and another. It’s already dark out, and the streetlights have twinkled on. You wish you could appreciate the beauty, but you’re so lost. 

Somehow, you’re not scared. You know you’ll figure it out. 

You’ve made it this far after all.

“I’m at a street with a thousand shops”

“So…every single street of this city? You’re so helpful”

“You’re not being very helpful either” You crossed your arms.

“Just go into any shop, and ask them where the art building is”

“What if they don’t know?”

“Then ask somebody else” Yeonjun suggested.

You survey the plethora of shops. Half of them have already shuttered down, and some are in the process of closing. 

There’s only one store that’s open. It looks like it sells snacks and drinks, but maybe they can tell you where you are. The fluorescent lights of it cast a harsh aura upon the streets, unmatched to the traditional aesthetic of everything else. 

“Okay. That’ll give me an excuse to get that expensive candy I saw at the station”

Yeonjun laughed, “I am appalled at how positive you’re being right now despite being in the middle of nowhere”

You walked up the little stairs, a chime sounding as you enter. 

It’s bigger than you expected inside. 

There’s rows and rows of snacks, shelves stocked to the brim. It’s local, different from a 7/11 franchise, but it’s just as organised. There’s a few people already in the store, and you walked past them, until you find an employee who can help you.

“Yeah, once I decided to stop being affected by every little thing, life became much easier” You joked.

You can almost imagine Yeonjun rolling his eyes as he said, “If only everything was that easy”

“I’m gonna ask someone who works here. I’ll call you after, okay?” You spoke into the phone, before hanging up.

There’s a girl, she looked friendly enough.

“Excuse me?” 

She turned, and she was chewing gum, “Yeah? How can I help you?”

“Yeah, could you tell me how I can get to the Atelier from here?”

You feel a little stupid. She’s probably wondering why you can’t just use your phone, but the streets here are so narrow, there’s no way it’ll be accurate.

Her eyebrow furrowed, “That fancy glass building?” 

You lit up in recognition, “Yes! Exactly that!”

“Um. I’m sorry, I don’t know. But Jae will know. His girlfriend goes there. I can call him if you want, he’s the back”

“Oh” You nodded, “That’ll be really helpful, thank you so much”

She looked around, “Are you gonna buy anything?”

You nodded, smiling at her, before she walked into the back.

Well, she was nice.

You tucked your hands into your jacket pockets, and looked around. 

You haven’t been to this part of town before. Well, you’ve only been here a few days but you must have got yourself really, really lost to end up in such a random place.

You waited for the girl to come back, and you watched the people around you.

You envy their sense of comfort, and familiarity.

There’s a couple, still in school uniforms, and they’re picking out candy.

There’s quite a few people in the store, baskets full of snacks, and iced coffee, and maybe you can grab one too, after you reorient yourself.

The shelf is front of you is so overstimulating, and there’s so many different types of candy. 

That’s another one of your favourite things here.

Brands you’ve never heard of or seen before. Imported sweets, from all across the world, and everything is expensive, but you don’t care right now.

There’s a huge box of purple candies.

It’s too much, even for you.

But you feel the need to treat yourself.

You reached for it, picking it off the shelf. Your eyes wander up.

There’s a boy.

Your heart skips a beat, and you think it almost stopped.

You’re dizzy.

The most beautiful boy in the world… stands on the other side of the shelf.

You’d recognise that stance anywhere. 

He’s in a dark trench coat and a cap is pulled over his head, and getting lost has easily been the absolute best mistake of your life. It’s the craziest coincidence in the world, and maybe now you really don’t believe in coincidences anymore.

You believe in destiny, and he has to be yours.

There’s no other explanation, no rhyme or reason for why else he would be here, right now, right here, at the same time as you.

He hasn’t seen you yet, and you relish in those few seconds of pure observation.

He looks exactly the same, as he browses through the aisle of cereals.

Your heart burned, and it yearned, and you couldn’t wait anymore.

You couldn’t stop yourself, even if you wanted to.

“Hyunjin?” You blurted, the excitement unable to be held back.

His head shot up to yours.

The blue box of cereal in his hand dropped to the floor.

And it really was him.

It actually was him.

There were no coincidences. 

He looked so gorgeous, and you can already feel his distinct scent. Your lips curved up into a smile, and your heart was beating out of its chest.

He was staring at you, eyes wide, lips parted.

His hair had gotten even longer, and it peeked out from under his cap.

“Hyunjin I—”

A woman stepped between you, picking up what he’d just dropped.

“Is this the one you were looking for?” She handed it to him.

Hyunjin tore his gaze away from you and nodded at her.

She looked at you, wondering what had his attention.

Your words were stuck in your throat, and your heart was squeezing in your chest, you thought you might collapse.

Who was that?

“Is there anything else you need?” She asked him.

He shook his head, gaze to the floor, “No. I’m good”

His voice. You’d missed it insanely.

“Perfect. The cash counter’s in the back though” She walked past you, and she’s not your problem anymore because he’s here. He’s actually here, in front of you, in the most random shop in all of Seoul. 

Hyunjin stepped out from the aisle. 

You’re standing in his way, “Hey—”

“Excuse me” He mumbled, his shoulder bumped against yours and he walked right past you.

What the fuck?

He didn’t even look at you.

Someone tapped on your shoulder, and it was the girl with the chewing gum.

Your eyes were still on him though, confused, and a fear began to settle in your stomach. He was standing at the cash counter, and his was head was ducked low, as the woman placed all of their shopping out of the cart. 

For a second, you wonder if you’re mistaken and if that’s someone else, but you know it’s him, but that doesn’t make any sense.

The girl employee spoke cheerfully, introducing a boy at her side, “This is Jae! He can tell you the way to the Art Atelier”

At those words, Hyunjin finally looked back, over his shoulder, at you.

His gaze met yours.

It definitely was him.

You were about to say something, but the words never made it past your lips, because he immediately looked away from you.

It was as if he had never known you.

Like you were a stranger.

The city of Seoul had never felt so quiet, as right now.

»»————-

⇐ masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you <3

if you’d like to support me and my writing, you can buy me a coffee here! thank you so much.

[hitmewithsomebooks]

@jegulus-microfic Jan 29 - fancy

Cowboy James au 🤠

1012 words 🙈

This will be a multi-part :)

~

"Now, I demand that—"

"Whoa there, fancy-pants, what seems t’ be the trouble?" James drawled, placing a hand on the fuming man's chest. He was small, slight, with a head of perfect dark curls and silver eyes, and he shot James a withering look.

"This doesn't concern you." The man snapped, eyeing James before returning to the bartender. "I swear to god, if you don't give it right now, I will knock your fucking lights out—"

"Okay, okay." James intervened again, despite the man's dismissal. Or maybe because of it.

"Now, th’rs no need t’ talk t’ mah friend like that."

The smaller man glared at him.

"Your friend just so happens to be my brother. Who has taken away my fucking phone, because he's a dick." The man spat, directing a glare towards Sirius.

"Well, tha’s not very nice." James admonished, giving him a little pout.

"And who exactly are you?" The man asked James, turning to properly face him, an expression of annoyance and disdain on his face. Here, Sirius cut in.

"Regulus, this is James. My friend. James, this is Regulus, my menace of a little brother." Sirius introduced.

"Regulus." James repeated, grinning, and stuck out a hand. "Lovely t’ meet ya."

"Can't say the same for you, given you're so nosy." Regulus sniffed, but shook his hand anyway. James squeezed his hand a little, then let go.

"Well, since ah’m so nosy, ah’m gonna ask why exactly Sirius took your phone. Cuz ah gotta feelin' he might have a good reason." Regulus opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius cut him off.

"He won't stop texting an arsehole who broke his heart and stole his job." James's eyebrows raised.

"Well that just won' do." He frowned, looking down at Regulus. "Why're you still textin' ‘im ?"

Regulus looked, for just a moment, vulnerable. Then, he put his chin up, and a mask with it.

"He has a really big cock." He replied, granting James and Sirius a sharp, self-satisfied grin. Sirius rolled his eyes, and James laughed.

"Good to know whatcha like, sugar." James murmured, and Regulus's eyes widened minutely. Sirius, luckily, had been distracted by another customer, and hadn't heard James's remark.

~

James had left the bar only a few minutes after they'd met, needing to help out a friend with something. He promised he'd be back later, and Regulus was anticipating it more than he'd like.

"How come you didn't tell me you'd befriended a tall, smooth, hot-as-fuck cowboy??" Regulus asked Sirius, tone incredulous and annoyed.

"Because I knew you'd jump him, and I didn't want him to be your rebound." Sirius answered, giving him a pointed look.

"Oh, please." Regulus scoffed, downing his shot. "That man doesn't seem like he'd be at all phased by a little rebound." Sirius frowned at him.

"He may seem like a confident, smooth-talking cowboy, but he's also quite kind. Considerate. I don't want you breaking him." Sirius answered, and Regulus scowled.

"In case you don't recall, my last relationship ended with me breaking down sobbing in your arms and sleeping on your couch for a month." Regulus said pointedly.

"I do, thank you. But I also remember how you ended it with Will, who was really decent. Bloke texted me for  weeks asking why you'd done it like that. You fucked him up, Reg."

"He's fine. His fragile masculinity will survive." Regulus waved it off, playing with his glass. "But come on, Sirius, did you see James?? He's exactly my type. I mean, the curls, the eyes, and, lord, those thighs in tight fucking jeans? Send me straight to hell because I. Want. To. Sin." Regulus groaned, pleading to Sirius.

"No." His brother replied shortly, before going to tend to another customer.

*

It was only two hours later when James returned to the bar, but now the place was bustling, as it was 8:30. Music was booming throughout the place, full of happily buzzed people dancing around and on one another. Regulus was sat at the bar, glowering at his phone still in Sirius's back pocket. He didn't even care about Barty anymore, he was just bored. Or so he told himself.

"Hey there, fancy-pants." A voice rumbled in his ear, and Regulus startled. Then, he turned, meeting warm hazel eyes.

"Well hello, nosy." Regulus replied, fondly. He was pleasantly tipsy, just on the edge of drunk, his usual wall-like inhibitions lowered. James flashed him a pleased smile.

"Sirius still got your phone?" James asked, glancing at the busy bartender.

"Yes, the cunt." Regulus groused, his tongue also even sharper when he was tipsy.

"Y'know, fer such a pretty thing, y’ve got a filthy mouth." James commented, but it wasn't an admonishment. A wicked smile played his lips as he said it.

"Yeah? Well, what are you going to do about it, Mr. Morality?" Regular sneered, taking another sip of his drink.

"Ah’m gonna ask you to dance, sugar." James replied, and a pleasant shiver went through Regulus's body at the nickname.

"Sorry, but I don't dance." Regulus hummed, partly to make it harder for the man and partly because he really wasn't too confident in his dance moves.

"Mmm, ah think you do. Jus' has to be with the right person." James smirked. Regulus gave him an amused look.

"And you think that's you, do you?" He asked, swirling his drink around his glass.

“Ah think that you really want that phone back, and if y’ dance with me, I’ll get it for you." James rumbled, and Regulus's eyebrows raised.

"Is that so?"

"Yes sir." James grinned, and Regulus shivered again.

"How will you get it?" He asked, wondering how far he could push this man.

"D'you see him? His attention's on nothin' but the customer's drinks. Ah could easily tell him ah’m slippin' out, pat him on the back, and swipe your phone. He prob'ly wouldn't even hear me." James drawled, and Regulus looked at him contemplatively.

"Okay." He sighed, pulling himself away from the bar. "I'll dance with you."

~

Next part

[abrcmswrld]

Treacherous | Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: Reader and Mike have been best friends since childhood. After a fight, Reader is given a surprise visit.

Warnings: General Angst, General Fluff, a suggestive make out scene in the nude but nothing too crazy, mentions of feminine clothing in one part but overall gender neutral

Author's Note: IM EDITING THIS RN SO PLEASE JUST IGNORE THE MISTAKES AND LIKE DUMB STUFF This is my first fic for Mike so bear with me! I tried so hard to adhere to the movie timeline but if it seems shaky please just ignore it lmao. I'm also bad at pacing sorry. I’d love to make this a series cause I’m in love with a good friends to lovers trope.

Mike had always been a bit of a mess. All of the time that you've known him, this has never changed. You can recall times on the playground of boys calling him names for his sensitivities. How were they to know the gravity of his situation? How were you to know? But you always felt called to stand up for him either way.

So you'd hound them off. You'd grab his hand and pull him off the dirt and to a quiet corner of the playground. The two of you would sit on the wooden border, picking at the grass and watching the other kids play.

His sensitivities would quickly turn to a certain hardness that you'd never fully come to understand, even in your late twenties. He'd open up the tiniest bit in high school, after his mother had passed away. He was only 17 years old. You were still children.

You have memories of standing uncomfortably in the dress your mother had insisted you wear to the funeral. You didn't know how to approach him then. He sat alone in a chair on the far side of the funeral home, a blank expression on his face. You couldn't say a word as you took tiny footsteps towards him. And he didn't say a word either, just looked up with bloodshot eyes. You'd hugged him then, feeling his shoulders shakes against you.

Soon it was time for the two of you to start thinking about college and your lives outside of the scope of small town high school. Talks of plans to find something new and excited were quickly stomped out by the failures of his father. You can recall a 23 year old Mike begging for your company on late nights when his father's drinking had reached a climax.

And you'd gladly show up for him. Abby was only six by that time, and Mike was all she had. Mike spoke about his father with disdain to you. Never crying the way he had as child, but you could see a sad anger within the conversations. And really, you couldn't blame him.

You can remember a night on the roof of your childhood home. It wasn’t your first time sneaking Mike through the window of your bedroom. It was a cold December night, and you were home for the holidays.

“I don’t think my dad’s coming back.”

Your knees were pulled up and under your chin as you rest your head and listened to his worries. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean, he hasn’t been back for three days and I think this might finally be it.”

You furrowed your brows and met his gaze.

“I’ll move back here.”

In that moment he had begged you not to. You were so close to finishing your degree and he insisted that he could not be the reason you didn’t finish. So you heeded to his wishes. You finished your final semester.

In the 6 months that you were gone after that night, his dad had not returned. Mike had stepped up to be a guardian for his sister. Family court would later assure this in legal documentation.

You had hugged him tightly the first night you were home and assured him that you would be there, for the both of them.

━━━

You would prove that to him when his original babysitter had ghosted him.

“Probably got tired of not being paid.” He had said when you asked why.

You don’t ask for pay. You had a day job that kept you stable enough to live. And as Mike’s hours were night shift, there was really no problem with the arrangement.

It would go on for a few weeks. You hadn’t seen pay, but you didn’t mind. Mike would cook you breakfast when he got home. That was payment enough for you.

But you could notice he wasn’t doing well. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. He had confided in you about the actions of his Aunt Jane. He showed you the papers with bold letters proclaiming a request for a change of custody. His stress and worry made sense to you now.

He would have to prove he was fit, a big ask in a court setting, especially for someone like Mike. You had encouraged him the best you could.

But everything had come to a head on a night when Mike had intended to actually pay you.

He woke you from your light sleep on his couch, alerting you that he was home. He sat his tired body on the recliner.

“There’s a 20 dollar bill in my jacket pocket.”

His eyes are closed as he speaks. It seems the night has been a rough one for him. “You don’t have to, but thank you.” You find the jacket lying on the kitchen table. You feel slightly bad as you reach your hand in to find the bill, but your guilt falls into confusion as your fingers brush the tiny bottle inside.

You let your eyes travel over the orange bottle in your hands. You furrow your brows. You turn to face the recliner he sits in.

"Mike."

He turns his head to face you, tired eyes falling on yours. He sees the bottle in your hands and you can see a sense of uncertainty and dread fall across his features.

"What are these? Sleeping pills?"

He immediately tenses, as if he had been avoiding this topic with everyone. But he responds quietly, “Yes.”

You fall silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. Realistically, there was nothing wrong with sleeping pills. People use them all of the time to sleep. But Mike seems hesitant to cover the topic of these pills and why he uses them.

An additional concern comes up in the way he had stuffed them in his jacket pocket. Why was he taking them to work? You hate the way your thoughts sound like the micromanagement of a mother, but all you can see is the bright yellow of the custody papers and Abby’s sweet face in your mind.

“Have you been taking these at work?”

He’s silent. It’s enough of an answer for you. You sigh as you sit the bottle down on the kitchen counter. You’ve known he wasn’t well. The incident that had gotten him fired from his last job, the dark circles under his eyes, the hardness about him, it all worried you. But you had always chose to let him live. Let him make his mistakes.

“Mike, talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

He lets out a spiteful scoff as if the conversation is beneath his worries at the moment. He lets out a shaky sigh. “I feel connected to him there. I don’t know why, but I do.”

There’s no doubt in your mind who he is referring to. His baby brother. The one he couldn’t save. You let him continue.

“If I can put myself into the right state of mind, I can see it. I can watch it over and over. And if I try hard enough maybe I might see who took him.”

He voice drifts off to a quiet and weak tone, “That’s all that matters to me.”

You can tell he’s hurt by the way that his voice comes out strained and weak, and it hurts you too. It’s not as if you couldn’t understand the pain of the situation. He’d cried to you all those years back when it first occurred. What you can’t understand is how he could let it ruin his relationship with Abby. Abby who is alive and well. Abby who, even if discreet, sees Mike as the moon and stars.

“And what about that little girl who sits around and draws you all day long?”

It makes you feel like a bitch to even say such a thing to him, but if it gives him a shake maybe it’d be worth it. “What about her?”

He stands still as a statue, emotions shifting across his face as he processes the words you’ve shot at him. You’re sure they strike like a bullet. His mouth opens and closes again, so you speak again.

“I know how badly you want to bring him back, Mike. To bring him back and be able to pretend none of that ever happened.”

He furrows his brows and you can the see the hurt flood his expression.

“But you’re going to lose them both if you don’t get your shit together.”

You sigh. You hate the way you sound like a mother scolding a child. You take a shaky breath. “Do you think that this job is really good for you? I mean-“ He cuts you off with a scoff and a laugh.

His tense attitude has you uncomfortable and defensive. You hate the way your voice becomes strained as you speak. “I just think it’s taking a toll on you.”

“I need this job, otherwise I’m never gonna see her again.”

And of course you know that. He needs a job to look good for a court that’s supposed to be able to decide if he’s right to take care of his sister. But what good does a job do on paper if the court can clearly see the way his mental stability is shaky? He hesitates and meets your eyes with a tense look as he speaks,

“You’re here to babysit Abby, not me.”

You stand silently in front of him for a moment before grabbing your coat. You turn toward him. You can see the quirk of regret on his expression, but he doesn’t speak, doesn’t take it back.

“It’s gonna take more than a shitty job that drives you crazy to keep her. I think you should find somebody else to babysit Abby.”

There’s malice in your tone and you hate it. But you can’t make excuses for him. You ignore his voice as he says your name quietly. You just let the door close behind you a you walk to your car. You wait for the door to open again behind your back. It doesn’t.

He doesn’t text you either. In fact, you don’t hear from him for another week and you wonder if he’s already replaced you and plans on holding the grudge.

You assume he must have. He must have found another babysitter for Abby. It seemed he was saving money to actually pay whoever took that role.

You can’t stop yourself from becoming more and more sad as the week goes on. You find yourself worrying more and more about Mike. And Abby. There’s no doubt in your mind that Jane was still adamant on proving in court that Mike was an unfit guardian.

You don’t know why you feel as though your presence could somehow remedy that. You don’t know why you feel an ache so deep in your heart. Friendship breakups are common. But Mike was different.

You still don’t let yourself text him. You would give him the power to choose that route. To choose you and the friendship you had given him since you were both children. And by the end of the week you have to force yourself to sleep.

And by the end of the week you get what you had secretly hoped for.

━━━

The knock on your door is urgent. You're half asleep as you rise out of the comfort of your bed. Your feet press against the cold floor as you rush to see who it could be. As you glance through the peephole you're met with those familiar black curls.

You open the door swiftly, shivering at the cool breeze that flows in. He looks like hell. Abby stands at his side. You're stunned, "Oh my God." You open the door wider and usher the two of them in.

Abby seems to be physically uninjured, while Mike's face is bloodied and bruised. You whisper to Mike,

"What the hell happened?"

He looks to Abby before he answers. "Abby should get some rest while we talk." You nod immediately. "Of course. She can sleep in my bed while I patch you up."

You lead the young girl to the bed and ensure she's tucked in. She thanks you quietly before you leave the room. You grab some first aid supplies from the bathroom cabinet on your way back.

"Sit."

You point Mike in the direction of the couch. He winces as you wipe the open cuts with alcohol wipes. You raise an eyebrow, “ You look like hell, Mike.” He scoffs in response.

“So you gonna tell me who did this to you, or am I just gonna have to keep wondering?”

Mike hesitates. You stop your movements to look at him with concern. He shakes his head, “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.” You sigh,

“Mike, I know you. Just tell me.”

And so he does. He explains everything down to the little details he can remember. It sounds crazy, it absolutely does. But you can’t bring yourself to think he’s faking it.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw. She knows what she saw.” He points in the direction of the room Abby was soundly sleeping in.

“I believe you.”

He closes his eyes and exhales a large breath. You continue to clean the cuts along his face and head. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.” He nods. There’s still an awkward tension between the two of you. He’s upset with himself for letting you leave the way you had, and you’re ashamed of yourself for letting him push you away. You break the silence at the same time,

“You know-“

“I’m sorry-“

You can’t help but laugh a little, and he smiles weakly back at you.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” You continue.

He shrugs. “You were just looking out for me. I understand that now.” It means a lot coming from Mike. He’s stubborn, not usually one to admit when he’s wrong. It makes the moment all the more sincere. You smile slightly, letting a hand brush his cheek where a bruise is blossoming under the skin.

“I wouldn’t have said what I did if I didn’t care about you.”

He nods slowly and leans his cheek into your caress. You can feel the warmth of his hand as he lets it fall to your hip. His voice falls to a whisper.

“I care about you too.”

You smile and swipe a thumb over his bottom lip, where the plush skin has split from impact and smeared blood across his pale chin. He groans as he leans up, it’s only then that you notice the large gash on his side.

He attempts to stand, hobbling on his injured leg. “Mike,” He turns toward your bedroom, ready to grab Abby and get out of your hair. When he turns his back, you can see the blood seeping through his shirt and the large tear across his back. You grab his hand,

“Mike.”

He faces you again, letting a quick glance fall to your now connected hands. “Let her sleep, she’s alright. Let me help you.”

He stands awkwardly in front of your bathroom counter. His muscles flex with each touch of your fingers around his wounds, his fingers gripping the counter until his knuckles are white.

“I think it’d be best if you took this off.”

You’re awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his long sleeve shirt. He meets your gaze in the mirror and you feel small. Your voice is nearly a whisper, “I- I just can’t see.”

You stare at the floor as he pulls the shirt over his head. The gash is messy, but not deep enough to require stitches. Regardless, it’s covered in a thick layer of blood and sweat. You usher him to turn, and you see that the cut on his side is not better.

He can see the way your eyebrows screw together. “Is it that bad?” His voice has a touch of dread hidden in its tone. “I mean,” You glance at him.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but you need to clean them or they’re gonna get infected.”

He swallows and nods. You walk to the shower, turning the knobs and adjusting the water to an appropriate and comfortable temperature. You clear your throat, “Here. I’ll, uh, I’ll let you…do your thing.”

You turn on your heels to give him privacy. As soon as your fingers touch the metallic surface of the doorknob, his hand catches your free hand, pulling gently. You turn toward him, meeting his eye. He pulls you closer and carefully pulls you into an embrace. You’re worried you’ll catch his wounds with your hands so you let them hover above his skin, not actually touching. But you want to.

You can feel his breath on your neck where he’s buried his face. He speaks into the sensitive skin, “Thank you. I don’t thank you enough.” That’s the moment you finally let your hands rest on his skin.

“You don’t have to thank me, Mike. I do it because I care about you.” You gently brush your fingers across his upper back, avoiding his cut. “Besides, you’d do it for me.”

He pulls himself from your neck, and you drop your hands from his back gently, expecting him to pull out of the embrace. But he stays close to you and only pulls back enough to see your face. Your cheeks are so hot. You can feel it and you know he can probably see it. He keeps his hands at your sides, just above your hips in a way that feels respectful. You allow yourself to put your hands on his forearms, thumbs resting in the bend of his elbows.

“Your water is gonna get cold.”

It’s a whisper as it comes out. He simply nods but doesn’t drop his hands from your sides. You smile shyly at him.

“Come with me.”

Your face is instantly hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the steam that’s building in the room and around the two of you. With your eyes wide and your mouth opening but no words coming out, he looks at you with hesitation, like he can’t believe the words actually left his mouth.

You can see the fear building on his expression the longer the silence drags on. Thoughts are racing through your head. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of this. You loved him. There’d always been a flutter in your stomach and a heat in your cheeks that let you know that perhaps it could be more than a friendship. You want that. But is this really how it’s going to happen?

You imagine the two of you going from childhood friends to becoming well acquainted with each other’s bodies in the span of one stressful night after not speaking for nearly a week. But there are no alarm bells going off in your head. You can’t bring yourself to feel ashamed.

So you kiss him. With his arms still around you and the heat from his bare chest creating a sense of protection from everything. With the whirl of water hitting the tub filling your ears. With the image of Abby sleeping soundly in your bedroom in your mind.

When you pull away, he looks at you with a sense of longing you’ve not seen on him before. You don’t want to say a word, not right now. It’ll be complicated. You know it will be. And you’ll have to have that conversation eventually, but right now the only thing you want is the heat of the water and the silk of his skin against yours.

So you finally unwrap yourself from him to begin working the buttons on your shirt. You’ve turned your brain off momentarily. Your fingers are on autopilot as they remove each article of clothing. If you allowed yourself to think, you’d surely turn in on yourself from the shame.

But when you’re finally bare and displayed in front of him, he doesn’t speak. He only looks with a fondness in his eyes that goes beyond a lustful stare. He slowly works his pants off his injured figure, wincing in the process, and soon he’s just as bare as you.

You’re shaking and cursing yourself internally for doing so. God, why were you shaking? You know he notices as he reaches his hand out to touch your arm lightly, grounding you in reality, and speaks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. More than okay.

The water feels heavenly as it beats against the skin of your back. Mike hobbles into the shower after you. He’s hesitant as you usher him to switch with you. It’s gonna hurt, but it’s necessary.

Your fingers lightly brush the wound on his back. He'd already been wincing slightly from the sting of the water, but your touch has him tensing immediately. You grab a cloth and dampen it enough to be effective in cleaning the general blood and grime from the afflicted wound.

The moment your cloth cover hand touches the  wound, he cries out through closed teeth, "Fucking- fuck!" His hands are planted against the shower wall in front of him. He bites his lip, holding in the whimpers of pain, trying his hardest not to wake Abby.

"Shh. It's okay, Mikey."

You let a gentle hand fall to his non injured side, brushing his skin. You're trying to sooth his tense and pained form as much as possible.

Soon enough you have both gashes cleaned up and ready to be bandaged. Mike turns to face you in the shower. His face still has a slight touch of discomfort to it, but he smiles weakly at you.

“Thank you.”

You smile back and nod. You’ve hardly said a word outside of attempting to sooth his pain with sweet words. The cold is starting to seep in from the tiny crack in the shower curtain. You can feel tiny goosebumps beginning to form on your skin. He frowns slightly and breaks the silence again.

“Did I cross a line…with this?”

Your head is already shaking before you can even comprehend the question. Like your body knows the answer before your mind does. “No, Mike.” He hesitates in his response, standing still and quiet before stepping towards you.

He seems to be able to move around a little better. You’re not sure if it’s the water cleaning the previously irritated wounds or if it’s the adrenaline pumping through his body. Either way you’re thankful as his hands are grabbing at your face and pulling you into another kiss.

It’s sloppier than the previous kiss you had shared, and he’s pushed you back so far that your back is hitting the cold tile of the shower wall. A fog has taken over your mind as you reach around his shoulders, digging your fingers into the plush muscle of his back.

The feeling of his tongue swiping into your mouth has sent you entirely mad. You’re whining slightly at the feeling and your eyes are half lidded. You can’t even think of the fact that this is your childhood best friend kissing you. Making you shudder. You can’t find it in you to care, you want him.

“Mikey…”

It’s a whispered moan as you let your head fall back against the tile, exposing the delicate skin of your neck to his wandering mouth.

Despite his injured form, his hands are tight around you. You'd thought of this before, in the heat of the night alone in your high school bedroom, hormones taking over completely.

You'd imagined the strong grip of his hands and the contrast of his plush lips. The bite of white teeth and soothing warmth of the hot water.

It’s absolutely divine, you think. He is divine. You know you’ll have dark bruises on your neck from the way he bites. You can’t help but run a hand through the hair on the back of his head and tug slightly. The moan is elicits rumbles through your neck and you want more.

You’re absolutely drunk off of the feeling of his body being this close to yours, nearly intertwined. You don’t even think when your nails swipe the cut on his back. That is until he lets out a yelp in the crook of your neck and promptly jump back.

You’re wide eyed immediately, realizing what you’d just done.

“I’m- I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mike.”

You can still see the remnants of a wince on his face but he laughs. And you find yourself letting out a nervous laugh with him. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

You laugh again, holding the palm of your head to your forehead.

“We should probably get out. It’s getting cold.”

You nod.

━━━

You manage to sneak past Abby’s sleeping figure long enough to grab old clothes from your room. You find yourself thanking the universe than Abby is a heavy sleeper.

You’re also thankful that you hadn’t given Mike back an old t-shirt that he had left in your home years ago. He smiles at you when you hand it to him. He puts it on and examines the familiar print on the front.

“You’ve been holding this one hostage, huh?”

You gently nudge his shoulder and let out a chuckle. “Shut up.”

You’ve layered blankets in the middle of your living room floor. You speak as you lay pillows down on the makeshift palette. “Abby is sleeping peacefully, I’m not letting you drive home tonight, and there’s no way I’m letting you sleep on my tiny couch.”

You point exaggeratedly at the “bed” you’ve created for the two of you. “Ta-da.” You let yourself fall back onto the layers of pillows and blankets. It’s surprisingly cushioned. You sigh. “Actually not that bad, Mikey.”

He watches you with a smile from his seat on your couch. “You’ve really out done yourself.” He slides off the couch and into the layers of blankets and pillows next to you. He turns to rest on his uninjured side, facing you. It’s dark in the room, but you’ve left one lamp on. You can see his features glow under the warm light. You brush a hand on his cheek lightly.

“I’m glad you didn’t die tonight, Mike.”

He snickers, but you’re serious. The thought of his face on the news, just another tragedy at Freddy’s, haunts you. “I’m serious.”

He simply stares at you. “You’re not gonna go back there, right?” He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna take care of her. I can’t keep a job.”

Your thumb brushes at his cheek, soothing his tension. “I’ll help you. When have I ever left you alone in this?” You shiver as you think of the only time you’d walked out on him after that heated argument. You push the thought away and close your eyes.

“Really love you, Mike. You’re my best friend.”

You open your eyes hesitantly and you can see the shine of moisture in his. “Love you too.”

You place a kiss on his lips. It’s chaste, but full of a deep warmth. It leaves you wondering what comes next.

You tuck yourself in close to him.

“Goodnight, Mike.”

[deathbxnny]

Hi there! You asked some HSR angst, well here you go! can i request Jing Yuan and Blade x s/o who was the royal guard and prince/ss of Khaenri’ah.

More context on reader:

They were the second born child of Khaenri’ah’s Royal Family and part of the royal guards. So somehow during the Cataclysm the reader was transported to the HSR universe. They were VERY traumatized of just what happenend and had put up an upbeat and plucky personality as a coping mechanism for what happened. They traveled the universe for sometime before they met Jing Yuan/Blade and ofc learned of Aeons. They dont like the Aeons and any mention of them would get rid of their upbeat facade quickly. They associate the Aeons with the Archons that destroyed their nation, now they know they arent the gods that did it but they cant help it. Basically Dainsleif’s attitude to anthing archon related but much chiller? Bc again they’re not the same ones who destroyed their nation so their willing to give them a very small benefit of the doubt.

How would they react to their s/o revealing their past and immortality to them after they had snapped at someone for something (probably aeon related that hit a bit too to home?) and became distant towards everyone for while. They tearfully revealed their past and then later go on a rant about their hatred toward gods. Also how would their lover react hearing about the curse (The pureblood and the half blood/non blood khaeri’ahns) the people of Khaenri’ah received.

How would they react towards their s/o being suicidal because the erosion that the curse cause them to have is THAT bad they just wanted to die but cant bc they cant die from being murdered as they can self regenarate or from old age. (Think of the demons from kimetsu no yaiba, like when yushiro got his head decapitated, yeah im pretty sure their lover saw their head get regenerated like one time)

Hope you enjoy this angsty request and have a good day/night!

- Flower Anon 🌸

-----♡

A/N: I re-read this 5 times, but for some reason my brain refused to process any of it, so I hope this still turns out okay lmao... thank you for the request tho and sorry for the long wait.

Content: Angst, hurt/comfort, established relationships, some rough description of the Khaenri'ah curse thing, small mentions of reader being suicidal

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan always silently questioned your past and often wondered why you were so secretive about it. However, he also respected your boundaries and therefore never pushed you for any answers, as he knew how sensitive some topics were. But when you one day just snapped at someone for the simple mention of the Aeons and God's, he started slowly piecing together your story on his own. It definitely also helped, that you eventually just spilled everything to him.

He was understanding and supportive, horrified to hear about the curse and it's consequences. He had heard of and seen many evil things, but this still shocked him. Especially after learning what the curse did to you as well. He was deeply upset when he heard about your want to die and despite understanding it, he still made sure you knew how important you were to him.

He tried making you see the bright side of it at least, as the curse gave him the opportunity to spend an endless lifetime with you at his side, something he deeply wished for. And he was glad, that he could, even with it being a horrible curse that allowed him to be.

-----♡

》Blade

Blade didn't really care about your past at first, as you never seemed to care about his. It was a mutual understanding between you two to just not mention it and try moving past it together, despite Blade's need for revenge. And at first, he was content with that, until he noticed your strong disdain for God's/Aeons. This confused him, as he didn't understand what it was that bothered you so much, until you eventually broke down and told him about it in a long rant.

He listened to you quietly, as you spoke about your people and their curse. About how you were sick of living and just wanted to finally rest. About how you were just really done with everything. And he understood you perfectly. He really did. Especially as he himself was cursed to immortality and wanted to die more than anything. The fact that you felt the same as him brought him more solace than anything in this world ever could.

But that's exactly why he also was so adamant on you continuing on even through your curse. After meeting you, he realised that immortality may not be as bad as he originally thought, especially when it's just spent with you. He'll help you get your revenge, as long as you promise to stay with him forever too.

-----♡

A/N: I'm genuinely praying this is even slightly coherent. Sorry for the wait Flower Anon and thank you again for the request!

[leviathanspain]

Hi! Saw you were taking requests!

If you want, maybe a Daemon or Aemond x reader drabble with 'if I can't have you, no-one can'. Maybe childhood friends/ unrequited love and reader comes back in a happy marriage to someone else. Or Daemon/ Aemond had an argument with their betrothed/spouse reader and someone else who was obsessed with reader attacks her (maybe even kills her).

Basically I want pure angst! No real happy ending!

Thank you and have a great day!

let me back into your life

daemon targaryen x reader

synopsis: daemon should’ve never come to winterfell

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“why are you here?” you asked, breaking the awkward silence that had been between the two of you for the last hour. daemon had asked for you to meet him privately, and considering you were married to the son of the lord of winterfell, getting the things you asked for required no sneaking of any kind.

“i wanted to see if the rumors were true.” he whispered, and looked down at your belly, “a child..is it his?”

you scoffed, and ran a hand down the front of your belly, “yes. it is. but i see no reason why that concerns you.”

you paced the room and daemon stood up abruptly from the chair closest to the fireplace. he was standing over you, overbearing, intimidating as always. “don’t act stupid. i’ve had you hundreds of times, i’ve reveled in your pleasure as you in mine. i have good reason to ask if that is my child you bare.”

you faltered, and pushed him away slightly, moving under his gaze.

“i was never yours to have, daemon!” you yelled at him, your hands on your belly as you paced your chambers nervously. “im not the one who got married first, daemon! if you remember, rhea royce exists! she’s your wife! she’s the one you should be with!”

daemon rolled his eyes, “the bronze bitch? you know i had no choice-“

you had enough. your eyes narrowed as you moved to shove him against the wall, hands bunching into his shirt, “and you think i did?” you looked at daemon with disdain and shook your head, “you were the one who didn’t ask my father for my hand, you were the one who jeopardized our future!” you let go and daemon let out a puff of anger.

“don’t ever lay your hands on me again, woman.” he threatened, his pride clearly hurt. he fumbled for his composure as he dusted his clothing of you, and held the sight of you with little regard.

you let out a bitter laugh, “now i’m woman? not..princess? my love? issa ābrazȳrys?” you looked at daemon who’s eyes were glued to the rich rugs on the floor, “you are a coward, daemon targaryen. you were a coward since the day i met you, a coward since the day i left you. why did you come back? certainly the cowardliness didn’t leave so soon, as even now you find it difficult to gaze into my eyes.”

you were cold, “am i the mistake you made? a loose end you needed to tie up? im sure viserys doesn’t know you are here, so why go through so much just to argue with me?”

daemon closed his eyes and shook his head, “stop.” he whispered, “stop!”

the fury in his eyes faded as defeat took over. you faltered and didn’t move from your spot. your child’s feet thumped furiously in your belly, and you parted your lips to say something, “im sorry daemon. but you need to leave.” you looked at him once more before you called in your personal guard.

“y/n! please, please just let me back into your life…” he cried, but you shuddered the thought away, “don’t make me get my husband.” you threatened, and daemon quieted as your guard hauled him away.

the child you bore had white hair, a trait of his true parentage that you tried to excuse with it being something passed down by your targaryen mother. your husband believed you, but you knew that word had spread of the child, and rumors had reached the rogue prince’s ears. even in his depression of losing you, he was happy to know that at least a part of him had made it back into your life.

[adaptacy]

It’s the anon with the Yearbook!Reader. Honestly surprised that was pumped out so fast with such quality, I was giggling when I read it ngl. Anyways, I am here to put forth another request for you to choose to do.

Got pretty boy Leland first.

Thinking about Leland and his S/O just relaxing in bed. Soft kisses, nice lil cuddles, some of that fluffy shi. My main point to this was called Leland pretty boy and just like, praising him. Give him all that TLC, babes deserves it.

(Could make it angst/comfort with Leland being insecure about scars he has after the Sawyer family incident, but just praising him for no reason is valid as hell)

It’d be chill if I sent several requests at the same time, yeah? I dont wanna fill up your request box, but I love your writing (Leland especially) and just have so many ideas at times. I also didn’t expect my request to be answered same day, usually takes a while, I’m willing to wait a week or two yknow.

-Kuhuahua

im- i- ik i havent been active on tumblr (ive been rping tcsm on discord <3) but i heard 1 song and it made me think of this request and then i rly wanted to write it SO here we go!

TW: aaaaaaangst with extra angst on the side.

Song recs: When You Gonna Run - Alpha Rev

He never talked about them. You understood why. Honestly, you doubted that he even spoke to his therapist about them. It's been four years. Even now, he still flinches when they're grazed, he whispers out quiet, "Not there, sweetheart," his voice tainted with a somber desperation, genuine hurt. You weren't sure if the pain was physical or emotional. Maybe both.

Four years and he still got teary-eyed if you asked about them, or referenced the incident at all. You'd learned not to, even if you did wish he would open up to you. For the first year that you were dating him you'd just assumed that he would talk about them when he was ready. But then the year came to an end. And so did the second one. And now, at 29 months with him, you'd stopped wishing. Gotten used to the shrugs and the soft sighs, the disdain in his gaze when you inquired about it.

So you didn't bring it up. But you knew he thought about it. Knew he felt it. Not talking about it was easy enough, after a while. But being close with him was hard. Physically close, that is. Every brush of your hand in the wrong spot, or a kiss on the wrong hand, touching your forehead a little to hard against the slit in his eyebrow-

29 months, and you still felt like shit for being unable to remember every single one of his scars. Every single placement- the big ones you could remember. But the small ones spanning the rest of his body, snips of horrors on his arms and the dots of regret on his torso, were impossible to map out.

He sat, watching the movie, next to you, one of his knees bent up to his chest while the other leg hung off of the couch, his chin propped up with one hand, his elbow resting on the cushioned arm of the loveseat, his other arm outstretched next to him, where his hand intertwined with yours.

The ones on his hands weren't bad. There were three on this one, tiny marks that you were surprised hadn't healed. You'd overheard the reason why; the second time you'd joined him at one of his doctor's appointments they'd mentioned him overworking himself, reopening the wounds. You wondered if they still hurt when he worked out.

Without thinking much of it, you scooted closer to him, only a few inches, and you snuck under his arm so that it hung off of your shoulder, though you refrained from leaning against him. He didn't react aside from a small squeeze of your hand. You lifted that hand and pushed a kiss to the back of it, earning his attention.

You didn't meet his eye. You didn't want to see the distant, aching hazel behind the kindness he usually showed. Didn't want to see the microscopic frown that tugged at his lips, you didn't want to see his chest rise and fall with another one of his dejected sighs. You just wanted to kiss him.

So you did, starting at the back of his hand and moving up, your mouth brushing against his arm just under another scar, your eyes closing. This time, it was you who sighed, and you took a gamble, moving your lips up and kissing the coarse patch of skin you'd avoided.

"Baby," he muttered, his voice tainted with the same sadness it held any time he was forced upon a reminder of his past. You didn't reply, nor did you stop, moving up to a different scar, this one closer to his shoulder, repeating the same for this one. A kiss, soft and lingering, before you pulled your head up and finally leaned it against his side.

"I think they're pretty."

There wasn't any reason you'd said it. Just that you'd felt it. And the words came to you, so you gifted them. Leland was quiet for a few minutes. His jaw rested against your temple, both of your heads turned towards the tv, though neither of you were really watching.

Whether he was insecure of them, or if they were still tender, or if they reminded him of the past, or, hell, all of it- they didn't change the way you saw him. Didn't change the way you loved him. You were with him to be with him, every part of him that you could manage to get a hold of. It was okay that he kept some things locked away.

You didn't understand, but you knew why. It was hard. Too difficult for him to remain cheerful when he thought about it. Too difficult to be perfect. Too difficult to feel like he was doing the right thing.

"I know you're hurt."

You couldn't stop yourself.

"I know I'm not ever gonna understand like you do. I know we're always gonna be distant. I know you don't like thinking about it."

But...

"I still love you. It was in the past. And I love you for your past, Lee. And I love you for our future, too. And- I love you right now, in the present."

He stayed quiet, though he leaned against your head a little more, his arm bringing you a bit closer.

"I think they're handsome. And... they're you, so I love them. I love every part of you. Even the scary parts, or the sad parts, or the parts you think are ugly. I love all of you."

At last, you looked up at him, just as he brought a hand to his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. His lip trembled as he looked down at you, but they trembled into a smile, a sad one, like a kicked puppy, but a smile nonetheless. You raised a hand too, cupping his jaw and brushing your thumb under his eye, which pulled a broken chuckle from him, and he sniffled, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Please, don't be," he replied, his voice cracking as he leaned into your palm, fighting to hold back. You scooted back, and he followed you, laying his head against your shoulder, a soft whine escaping him as he cried.

"I'm always gonna be here. I'm not gonna run. Not gonna leave you for your past. I- I just love you, Leland." Your arms wrapped around his neck as you held him close, resting your chin on his head as he cried, and you gently hushed him, doing your best to reassure.

He didn't often cry. Not to you. Sometimes, on his own time, or when you were pretending to be asleep, you could hear him. But he didn't want to push any of his weight onto you. Didn't want to burden you.

"I can shoulder some of it, y'know. Just cause you can lift a lot of weight doesn't mean you need to do it alone," you hummed, your words lighthearted despite being completely genuine. "I'm right here. I'm here to do it together. Here to be here- here to be yours."

You didn't expect a reply, but he gave one, weak and pained, snagging on his tears, an "I love you," short but sweet. You hugged him closer, leaning down to kiss another scar on the top of his back, and he didn't ask you not to, he didn't flinch, he just let it happen.

"You're perfect, Lee. Scars and all."

[unclefathersantateddy]

what are your thoughts on teddy's relationship with his family and how they were abusive? what about his younger sister?? and his relationship with his ex wife where he was also abused by her 🤔 how do you think these affected his personality and relationships. sorry this is an English essay ass prompt but im genuinely curious lmao i love analyzing family history (obvs)

Light coming in with the big gun from the get-go!!! Hahaha thank you for a great question!!!

So from what we know about Teddy's mom, she's a bit of a Wild Card™. Likes to do what she wants, when she wants, isn't exactly your traditional grandma.

But given the majority of people become docile with age (rather than more adventurous), it stands to reason /why/ she waited until retirement to do all the things she enjoyed? Could that be why her and Teddy's dad always used to argue?

Teddy's age places his parents as either dating or hooking up around the 70s/80s. Assuming they've never left the US, this wasn't exactly a pinnacle time for women's rights.

So we have an oppressive timestamp, a turbulent relationship, and then an extinction burst (Teddy's mom doing ALL her interests in retirement) post-breakup.

These factors together connote that teddy's father may have been restrictive/disapproving of teddy's mother's interests, hobbies, passions - or may be indicative of teddy's father's disdain/nonchalance towards his wife in general. (I'm assuming they were married because 'merica). Which would be an apt representation of Boomer relationships, the whole "can't live with them, can't live without them" (totally healthy /s).

But on the flipside to a potentially controlling father, his mom IS a wild card lol. If she's still up to mad shit in retirement, WHAT was she into in her prime?? Was she Fully Unhinged™? Given her, "muchness" (for lack of better words), it stands to reason it may transfer as "feisty" or "fiery" during arguments with teddy's dad, so whilst his dad may have been authoritarian, his mom may have been inflammatory and antagonistic.

As for his sister GIVE HER SOME GD SCREEN TIME!!!!!!! WHO ARE DANA AND DAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wanna see if she's exactly like Teddy or if she's his antithesis, are they both so interested in learning about the lives of every stranger they meet? That's beautiful bro. I hope so. I both want her to be an almost identical twin to teddy, and to look exactly like her bf Dan (like the Van Houtens in the Simpsons). I think I want Dana to have the spunkiness that teddy lacks. I love the "anxious older sibling, feral younger sibling" dynamics, like what Tina and Louise have. I want an episode where Teddy's in therapy talking to Dr Marjorie about his childhood whilst Dana's out back wrestling a bar fly for his teeth or smn. Same trauma but dealt with in VERY different ways. I need it!!!!!!!!! I deserve this!!!!!!!!! LOL.

Moving onto Denise, FUCK Denise. Fuck any single individual that makes you feel like you have to change your core sense of self in order to feel accepted and/or loved. You KNOW she's that slimy level of manipulative that easily gets her own way in every situation. The type that rarely gets called up but if you call them up everyone else around will take their side. The GOOD manipulators. Real piece of shit types. The type to push you so far into a corner you come out crazy. So crazy noone believes you and they all side with the charismatic one. (These people boil my soul into an angry black jus, I become one of the 4 biles). IIRC we don't even get a full line from her, I'm pretty sure she only says "teddy?" (But please correct me if that's false), but that's still enough to solidify her as a shithouse in my mind. Questioning his name like don't pretend you don't know or recognise him you shitcunt, he gave you so much of his life. Eat a dick.

As negative as all these experiences are, I do think they shaped teddy for the better! I mean, he is a lil anxious and awkward and doesn't have the best self-esteem/confidence. BUT, he's incredibly emotionally intelligent for an old white guy. He's SO full of love, for EVERYONE. Every single person he comes across or meets (as exampled by S12E4 Driving Big Dummy), he fundamentally enjoys experiencing. They're not just people to chat to, they are experiences to be had. They are characters you've never heard of to stories you've never read. His approach to people is polar opposite to how most of us perceive other people, most of us are like Bob, he doesn't /hate/ people, but he doesn't /like/ them either. Teddy DOES like other people, he REALLY likes other people, he put the work into his trauma so it didn't taint the rest of him. I'm not gonna speak on behalf of everyone with PTSD but I know for a lot of us we fester on our trauma and victimise ourselves, often resulting in self- alienation and isolation, teddy shows no sign of that. S8E5 Thanks-Hoarding picks up on teddy being a handyman so he can "fix" his parents relationship (simplifying), but it doesn't address the fact he is CONSTANTLY putting himself out there. Handymen are a word-of-mouth trade, to be a successful handyman you HAVE to put yourself out there. To meet new people is to be vulnerable, and to be vulnerable with PTSD is like a rabbit exposing its belly to an owl yknow? Throughout the entire show we see teddy consistently putting the work in. Into every part of his life, he's making the effort to improve his life. I know healthcare in the US is a privilege that only the capitalists can afford, but it is so refreshing to see an American go to therapy instead of just complaining about how much they need therapy lol (no judgment, again I appreciate it's a nigh impossible situation to escape).

Thank you for the incredibly stimulating question, light!! (Sorry if I didn't answer all the questions fully! Will edit or update later!🤍)

[softness-and-shattering]

Requisite grouch about the representation of embroidery, particularly in Bridgerton. Season 3, Im just getting to. So I get the point of this little scene is "Eloise is not interested in conventional feminine topics and doesnt fit in with her peers, and we are doing this by showing disdain for embroidery" and I fully get that in the cultural consciousness embroidery is this frivolous nonsense that rich women did to keep busy and isnt worth anything.

But two things. One, as Ive said before, the Bridgerton costuming is full of embroidery, of the kind that has to be machine made. And Im not gonna talk about historical accuracy because I consider the costuming part of the shows premise ie something you just have to accept to enjoy the show because its central. Like you cant enjoy Dungeon Meshi if you have to know how its possible for magic and dungeons to exist, you just have to accept that its part of the setting.

So either the seamstress has a few machines shes using for the lavish embroidery or her cloth is extravagantly expensive beyond all reason. LIke even more than youre already thinking.

And these women are surrounded by it, making their trade with it, its literally built into their fashion. So scorn for it makes zero sense. Second, in this scene in particular at the ball. The dialogue goes, almost exactly:

"Well the leaf stitch is tried and true"

[I think Eloise says something]

"Then theres the running stitch, the straight stitch, the fern stitch, the French knot -"

"What's your favourite stitch Eloise?"

This is not how people talk about embroidery! Its not exciting because of the stitches that exist, its exciting for how you use the stitches and what shapes and textures you can make, and how you manipulate the thread and fabric to create all kinds of interesting effects and patterns. And I fully understand that someone can be bored by that, its not for everyone. Im just mad that their "this is a normal conversation about embroidery" is listing stitching and asking someone their favourite. They could have done something like

"I just learned a new stitch, its called the split stitch, and it has this really cool effect that makes the thread look like its knitted, so Im embroidering my dog with this technique to really capture his fur, and im using French knots for his little beady eyes, and then Im gonna use the split stitch and this gorgeous russet floss to make him the coziest little sweater!"

"Oh my god I do not want to hear another thing about your thread dog and its fake thready sweater."

Thats like, a real conversation someone might have that someone else could find boring, and its respectful - and realistic - to the hobby and craft and art of embroidery! It sounds like something a human might say. Not "here are some stitch names, wait why are you being rude?". Its like imitating a conversation about someones dog like "and he has paws and his paws have nails and then he has knees and then he has two eyes and a tail" thats not how people talk about dogs! you might see "his tail is so waggy, and his eyes are so soulful, and his little feet are the cutest thing, let me tell you a story -". We couldve had a story about an embroidery mishap, that could be funny.

but no we must hold onto old outdated and sexist ideas about things and disdain them for no good reason while our costume department is embroidering everything because lets not examine any of our attitudes about anything!

The worst was still the dressmaker last season complaining about ladies and their embroidery MAAM THATS LITERALLY YOUR JOB. Ok now I can go back to watching for the pretties. And I very much admire Colin's big swooshy coat.

Im also trying to work out if Cressida is sapphic. Eloise and Pen absolutely have "middle grade sapphic friends have strangely intense friendship and then huge strangely intense breakup fight," and looks like Pen is bi, but Im really hoping they properly go into queer themes with Eloise and not just sign her up for a guy later. Also pretty sure the latest Bridgerton this season - Francesca? - is ace. Big ace vibes on her.

Swooshy coat!!

[caramel1mochi]

Do you write ships? May i req chamber x yoru if so? Like brimstone makes chamber and yoru train together Im rly curious to see how you’d write chamber. You made him so scary in your chamber x reader ^^;

Heya, thanks for the req! Agent ships are super new to me but I hope I did this one justice. I also wasn't sure if you wanted them together or not so I kinda guessed hahaㅤ I might've gone overboard with this but I missed Chamber don't blame me please

ㅤ [ Yoru x Chamber ]

Words: 1k

Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked.‎ ‎‎ ‎  

ㅤ

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

ㅤ

If you were to describe eternal torture for a few agents, you'd get varying answers. For example, Kay/O feared losing his closest friends, Breach feared eternal imprisonment, Clove feared their immortality catching up to them...

And Yoru?

Well, Yoru had this unreasonable hatred for a peculiar Frenchman dubbed Chamber. And his biggest fear was to forcefully spend more than a few minutes with him, especially alone... Actually, no, it would be just as bad in front of other people.

Anyway, why did he despise Chamber so much? No reason. Well, okay, no discernible reason.

You see, getting any evidence against Chamber was like drawing blood from a stone. That meant that Yoru’s gut feeling that this man was a horrible malignant tumour who had enough money and ‘love for animals’ to cover up how evil he is would remain just that — a gut feeling.

So, in the meantime, Yoru hated Chamber for his haughty persona and… yeah.

In spite of all of this being public knowledge, this fear came true today, and nobody other than Clove was there to comfort him. Actually, no, he wasn’t even sure why they were in the training range with him to begin with.

But he'd still much rather have Raze set off an explosion right on his face instead.

ㅤ

"So, yer telling me ya gotta train with Chamber today?"

ㅤ

Clove reiterated as they leaned on the counter, watching Yoru diligently inspect the Stinger he held.

ㅤ

"Tch. Yeah. Thanks for reminding me."

ㅤ

"Oooh, unlucky. Would ya like a wee butterfly? I heard Japanese people see it as good luck."

ㅤ

Clove held out their hand and allowed a single butterfly to move across it, slowly making its way to Yoru. But he shoved the insect away with his free hand instead.

ㅤ

"From where, TikTok?"

ㅤ

"Dinnae knock it, Yoru. It can be useful. Ya know, I learned CPR from it just yesterday!"

ㅤ

Yoru rolled his eyes.

ㅤ

“Yeah, that’s reliable.”

ㅤ

"Wait, wait, if you see the dafty, you'll tell him what I told you, aye? About his outfit, and all."

ㅤ

"Do it yourself, you coward."

ㅤ

He retorted nonchalantly, observing the magazine as he slipped it out of the weapon. Clove, however, was greatly taken aback by this.

ㅤ

"Who're ya calling a coward?! I'll have you know, I jump off of cliffs for fun!"

ㅤ

"Okay, prove it. Tell him."

ㅤ

“Alright, I will! Watch me!”

ㅤ

Just then, an unfamiliarly deep voice popped up from behind them that interrupted their little conversation.

ㅤ

"Tell me what?"

ㅤ

To accompany their surprise, a slew of butterflies burst from Clove as the duo turned to meet the gaze of the Frenchman.

Chamber stood before them with one hand in his pocket, looking down on the younglings. Seems like they hadn’t noticed him march down the hallway and finally go through the entrance.

Though Yoru greeted him with a look of pure disdain, Clove simply cracked an awkward smile.

ㅤ

"Nothing! We were only havering."

ㅤ

Yoru couldn't help but notice the drastic change in their tone as they spoke. And given how quiet the area is, their voices definitely echoed — that meant that Chamber also caught on to this little shift. However, ignoring the butterflies landing on their shoulders, Chamber simply kept his gaze on Clove without breaking eye contact.

ㅤ

"You can tell me, Clove.” He inclined his head. “I don't bite."

ㅤ

More butterflies emerged from them, much to Yoru’s frustration. With an audible click, he forced the magazine back in the weapon and hung it back on the weapon’s rack.

ㅤ

"Tch. It doesn't take Einstein to know that's not true."

ㅤ

"Agh, whisht. I was just about to leave."

ㅤ

Clove pointed at themselves in an attempt to restore their confidence. Yoru, however, knew that they were only leaving because the rate of butterflies they were inadvertently summoning started to get uncontrollable.

ㅤ

"Text Iso if you need me, aye? I'm off for today!"

ㅤ

Clove took a few steps back, before taking the nearest turn to disappear as quickly as possible. Yoru knew this wasn't natural for the Scot, and he immediately shot Chamber another glare.

ㅤ

"You just know how to make people uncomfortable, don't you?"

ㅤ

In response, Chamber simply gave him a once-over; it was a look that subtly radiated disgust. Then, a sly smile etched itself on his features. He turned on his heel and began moving towards the control panel not too far away. Presumably to start the training.

ㅤ

“What, are you too good to reply, now?”

ㅤ

Yoru spat out as he turned back to the weapons rack and grabbed a Vandal.

ㅤ

"Ah, no, not quite. I'd simply rather make this situation less bothersome. For myself, of course."

ㅤ

"Yeah. Yourself.” He turned the safety off. “Because the world revolves around you, huh? I know how it works for narcissists."

ㅤ

"Narcissist? That's quite a big word, Yoru."

ㅤ

Yoru shot him a glare. But their position meant that he only stared at Chamber’s back.

ㅤ

"What's that supposed to mean?"

ㅤ

"I mean that narcissist is a big word."

ㅤ

"No, you're saying something else. You're saying I'm stupid, aren't you?"

ㅤ

Chamber lightly laughed, taking out his signature Headhunter and taking a few steps back. It was only when the bots were summoned did he realise that he’d started the training.

One bot appeared, and the Frenchman calmly took aim.

ㅤ

"I'm impressed at the conclusions you're able to draw, Yoru."

ㅤ

Just before he could pull the trigger, the bot was shot, falling limp to the ground. There, he noticed that Yoru was now moving towards his general area out of the corner of his eye.

ㅤ

"Yeah, right. I know what subtext is. It's what cowards like you use to avoid saying what you actually mean."

ㅤ

"Ah. Of course." Chamber aimed at another, but the Japanese beat him to it again. "I'd be flattered at how much you studied me if you weren't a mere afterthought."

ㅤ

Yoru sighed and shot the third bot Chamber aimed at, further amusing him.

It felt like he was this close to shooting Chamber instead. But for the love of everything holy, he knew he couldn’t just do that. Killing a fellow co-worker was, you know, not allowed, even though Sage could totally revive them and all that stuff.

He really should've prayed for patience before this.

ㅤ

"Keep talking, Chamber. Sage won't undo what I'll do to you."

ㅤ

The Frenchman lightly laughed. Again. But instead, he withdrew his weapon and glanced at Yoru, ignoring the bots as the appeared and disappeared behind them.

ㅤ

"Okay, go ahead."

ㅤ

He stopped shooting.

Yoru promptly glanced up at him in confusion.

ㅤ

“What?”

ㅤ

“Truthfully, I believe all you do is hide behind empty threats.” He gestured at his Vandal. “So, prove me wrong. Shoot me.”

ㅤ

By the look in his face, his cocky posture, Yoru inferred that he wasn't riling him up anymore.

For a moment, he was tempted to actually rip his head off, but Yoru knew better than to expect stupidity from Chamber. There’s something going on, isn’t there? There’s no way he’d just do something like that without...

Yoru lifted his gaze. His eyes locked on an awry black circle on the ceiling above them, one with a faint red dot just beneath it. That’s one of Cypher’s cameras… Right, they were being recorded. Of course they bloody were, they’re in the training range.

But that also meant that Chamber did this on purpose.

Yoru opened his mouth to bite back, but he couldn’t really speak. Not with the knowledge that they were actively being watched. He was forced to bite his tongue and keep shooting, only mumbling a silent 'whatever'.

And he minded his own bots this time.

He felt the triumph coming from Chamber as he took out his gun once more and began shooting alongside him, their scores now slowly becoming equal.

And so, they continued training in silence. It was unbearable.

Even when neither of them spoke, Yoru could feel his judgemental aura mock him for everything. The way he held his gun, his posture, heck, even his outfit. Being around him just made the Japanese capable of feeling everything, even the sensation of his gloves as they pressed up against his hands.

This is gonna be a long afternoon.

[whumpbug]

Hi Bug, same anon who asked the horse questions --- first of all, thank you so much for the answers and I'm so glad I was able to inspire you!! I don't think you've talked about this yet but I was curious: What was Gene's mom like? I know she was killed by criminals and that event led to him becoming such an intensely strict deputy, so either she meant a whole lot to him or her death was just that traumatic. --- QUESTIONS - Well, first of all, what's her name? - What lasting affect did she have on Gene when she was alive? Did she teach him anything fundamental about life or morality that he still believes? Did she introduce him to anything that he's still passionate about? - Is there anything specific that Gene does in her memory and if so, when? On the anniversary of her death? Whenever it's her favorite weather? Every other day? Every morning? - Who, specifically, killed her (if you know)? - How old was Gene when she was killed and did he witness it himself? If so, does he remember it?

HI ANON IM SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU IN MY ASK BOX AGAIN!!!!! and once again you come with such amazing questions i am being so spoiled right now.

the short answer is that she meant a whole lot to him AND her death was that traumatic. but who's here for the short answer anyways

long post incoming. as always. I HOPE U ENJOY!

✮⋆˙

what's her name?

gene's mother's maiden name was Sylvia Mae LeBlanc.

she was a small, feisty woman from the deep south (louisiana) and you could tell right away from her accent. she was blonde, blue-eyed, and gorgeous. a real southern belle.

she met gene's father (who's name is clint) when she was just 17, and the two hit it off. they got married, and of course, she became sylvia delaney, and soon baby gene was born. the trouble was that sylvia's father did not like clint. clint was a rancher, and her father thought lowly of the profession. he refused to support them finacially. she ran away with clint and they struggled for quite a while, but they were determined. clint truly did love sylvia, but i don't think he was ever going to be ready to be a father. sylvia loved being a mother, but fatherhood scared clint. he never had a great relationship with gene to start, and it only got worse when sylvia died.

looks wise, gene got his bone structure from his father, but everything else is from his mama. he has her eyes, her hair, her mouth, even her nose. he was VERY blonde as a child.

✮⋆˙

what lasting affect did she have on gene when she was alive?

oh this is a loaded question and i LOVE it.

when he was little, he spent most of his time with his mom. being a rancher was a busy job, and clint didn't particularly care enough to make an effort to spend time with his kid, so gene and sylvia were very very close.

she taught him a lot about how to conduct himself. she was a southern girl, manners were VERY important to her. she'd be damned if gene didn't address everyone he met as sir or ma'am. she also was a big reader, and taught gene to read and write from just age 3. she read anything under the sun to him, and its part of the reason why he's generally considered very articulate. he still loves reading and it's one of his favorite pastimes.

she was also extremely progressive for her time. she taught him so much about how to respect people as a whole, no matter their race or gender or social class or anything. she just taught him empathy. it was a big help that gene was naturally just a sweet kid.

unfortunately for little gene, clint Did Not like this. he was obsessed with what it meant to "Be A Man" and didn't take kindly to seeing his son do things like carrying the paralyzed lamb to and from the water tin or crying after accidentally stepping on a butterfly. he saw gene as too soft from the get-go, and he made his disdain for it known.

it was a recurring argument for sylvia and clint.

still, sylvia wouldn't back down. when gene would sob after getting yelled at by clint or, worse, after being forced to go hunting at the age of 7, sylvia would hold him and rock with him and sing to him until he calmed down and tell him that its okay to cry. being gentle takes strength. the world needs more kindness like yours.

gene thinks about it very often.

✮⋆˙

is there anything specific that gene does in her memory and if so, when?

so, for starters, he visits her grave every year on the anniversary of her death. she was buried in louisiana-- she loved her home town and state. so every year, gene takes a train (haha. sorry gene.) down to visit his grandparents and aunts and cousins, but ultimately he leaves the family house to go to the cemetery and spends the day sitting by her grave and just. he just talks to her.

he talks to her like she's right there. he tells her about work, about the town shenanigans, more recently about cassidy (he talks a lot about cassidy. sylvia is looking down at him with an Eyebrow Raise.), really anything that comes to his mind. he sometimes falls asleep, head resting against her headstone, and wakes up to the sun settling below the horizon.

in terms of little practices he does, he makes his coffee a very specific way because of how she used to make it. he wears one of her rings on a chain around his neck. he has her accent, sometimes, when he's not thinking about it. he still has all his southern manners, he is respectful and kind, just like she wanted him to be, but sometimes it's drowned out by his father.

he also kept a bottle of her perfume. it smells of peach and vanilla and orange blossom. he sprays it on his pillow sometimes, when he really really misses her. those nights are always hard on him.

✮⋆˙

who, specifically, killed her (if you know)?

see this is where i have entertained different ideas. as of now, its just a random outlaw. just a random train robber that had no personal connection to gene.

however.

i have thought it could be interesting if the man was montana or someone associated with him. the timelines would (maybe) make sense, but i feel like it might also just complicate things too much. IDK. its just a little idea but for now, i'll say it was just an unspecific outlaw.

✮⋆˙

how old was gene when she was killed and did he witness it himself? if so, does he remember it?

oh boy.

cw: blood mention. slightly graphic description of death.

gene wishes he didn't remember. he really does.

she was killed on their way to visit louisiana. clint never went with them when they traveled because, again, being a rancher is a demanding profession and sylvia's family didn't take too kindly to him visiting anyways.

gene was 11 at the time. he was sitting in the train car with his mother, head resting on her shoulder, when he heard commotion coming from a few cars down.

then, the group of robbers breached their own car.

gene was petrified. he clung to his mama like a little boy, visibly shaking when they started making their way down the aisle. she whispered reassurances to him, that they would be okay, that they weren't going to give the bad men anything, that the sherriff would be there any minute.

when one of the men approached sylvia and gene, sylvia physically put herself between the man and her son. she was fesity. she wasn't going down without a fight, and she sure as hell wasn't going to give this man anything.

when she refused the first time, the man didn't shoot her. he simply murmured something to his the other outlaw beside him and turned back to sylvia, giving her a chance to reconsider. she didn't.

and then the gunshot rang out.

she got her right in the chest. it was a miracle that gene wasn't somehow hit too, as close as he was.

that was the moment the outlaws heard the shout of the lawmen, and turned tail on the job. but the damage had been done.

gene held his mama as she took her last breath. she didn't stand a chance. the bullet fired point blank into her left lung. she hardly lasted a few minutes. still, gene screamed. there was blood everywhere. on his face, on his clothes, on his hands.

he cried, he begged, he pleaded for someone, anyone to help him. to save his mama. but she didn't stand a chance.

i'd like to say that she had last words, some profound thing to say that gene could hold dear to him for the rest of his life, but she didn't she just gasped for air until she couldn't anymore.

gene remembers that day in vicious detail. he remembers what he was wearing, what she was wearing, what the man's eye color was. his memory goes fuzzy from the moment she died, though. he vaguely remembers being taken to a sherriffs office and being cleaned up with a handkerchief and being wrapped in a scratchy blanket. he remembers his father arriving, and it might have been the only time his father hugged him. it was certainly the only time he ever saw him cry.

his memory of the entire year after she died is choppy at best, nonexistent at worst. he began helping his father more at the farm, not because he wanted to spend more time with him, but because it gave him something to do. if he didn't have anything to do, he might've gone crazy.

unfortunately, and much to sylvia's dismay i'm sure, the experience hardened him. especially since he was around his father so much, he didn't allow himself to be seen as soft or gentle anymore. he got tougher, meaner, and more like his father.

its, in part, because he wonders if he had been just a little stronger on that day in the train, if he could have saved his mama. maybe if he had been quicker or more intimidating, he could have protected her like a "Real Man" should. but he'll never know. and that thought kills him.

✮⋆˙

GOD that got sad really fast. im sorry for the trauma gene. and i'm sorry for giving you another reason to hate trains cough cough @sethlost cough cough

JOKES ASIDE thank you so much for this question anon. i think by writing this all out, i have a much better grasp of gene as a person and the actual impact his mother had on him. this was such an important question and also SO fun to answer so thank you so much!!!!!

[saikokirakira]

All the Wrong Right Reasons (Jake Lockley x Bakunawa!Reader pt.3)

a/n: we are entering spicy territory. nothing explicit unless you want me to? but we got maybe one more for jake's intro series...

next up is a layla fic. can i get a wahoo?

Prev: IV. Jake pt.2 | Next: IV. Jake pt.4 | AU Masterlist

warnings: jake “the simp king” lockley origin story; khonshu is a little shit; one-way intense turned thirsty pining; show’s interpretation of DID; non-hispanic writer using one (1) spanish word (in my not-so defense, im filipino (i remembered we have a celebrity kristine hermosa with that name. imagine having 'beautiful' for a name and looking EXACTLY ETHEREAL) okay i'll stop rambling); non-canon Philippine mythology

Maybe Jake’s reaction was a little unprecedented.

He never had to front unless the system was in mortal danger or if Khonshu needed him for a mission.

All he’s known was being on a constant state of fight or flight with adrenaline in his veins.

So, what happens when the person he’s been incredibly attracted to threatens his life?

He wants to fight back for all the wrong right reasons.

Have you met my friend, Jake Lockley?

As much as Jake was thankful for the moon god intervening, the bird was having the time of his life not allowing him to summon the suit as well.

Let him go. Khonshu’s playing with you.

A dark masked figure materialized behind you. A dark shadowy void with glowing violet eyes.

Probably made new friends the last time you died, Jake thought.

Glaring at Jake with your glowing golden eyes, you let him go and stepped back.

“Khonshu, you lied,” you spat out. “You were supposed to let him go.”

“Marc only meant Steven and himself, hermosa,” Jake finally spoke once he got to catch his breath. “I had no plans of leaving. I’m the real Moon Knight.”

Your golden eyes found him again, and Jake found some sort of satisfaction of you looking down at him… even with disdain.

Or any attention finally directed at him… not at any of his alters.

“What do you want from me?”

Jake resisted the urge to smirk.

There were many, many things he wanted from you.

“I want to finish the job.”

Arthur Harrow, the shadow said.

Then it clicked. “You were in Cairo.” You weren’t asking. You said it as a fact.

You never knew what happened after Ammit was sealed in her Avatar’s body, but you knew for a fact that that psychotic maniac was still breathing somewhere.

Steven didn’t have the stomach to kill anymore, and Marc…

Either his mind would be changed by Steven or not kill Harrow at all to spite Khonshu.

“I suppose you were the one who ran off and went on a killing spree when Marc blacked out?”

Jake nodded; his eyes guarded.

“You were protecting them.”

He nodded again.

“Do they know you exist?”

“No.”

“If you stay with me or with Khonshu, they’ll find out soon enough.”

“That’s why I want to get to Harrow before that, hermosa.”

You raised your brow at the second time he called you that. “Charmer,” you smiled playfully.

Finally relaxing and letting your guard down around the new alter, your eyes glowed again.

“Give me one hour.”

…

You were starting to regret not taking the passenger seat.

Yet you also needed a breather from Jake.

You were trying to tell yourself it was because you missed Steven so much…

… but Jake was waking up something else inside you.

It scared you. Scared that you might give into him.

You couldn’t do that to Steven.

“Why would I ever need anybody else when he has no idea how troubled he truly is?”

You hated to admit it, but you sided with Harrow for a split-second while Khonshu gloated on keeping Marc as his Avatar.

“And you’re okay with that, langga?”

You hissed at the name, but you tried not to get too riled up.

“You don’t want those to be your last words, you piece of shit.”

It’ll all be over soon.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter what I think. Marc and Steven don’t know.”

Arthur’s face twisted in confusion.

“Meet my friend, Jake Lockley.”

You barely flinched when you felt the bullet whiz past you and straight into Harrow’s head after Jake said his final words to the cultist.

Harrow slumped forward and fell to the floor where he slowly bled out.

It was over.

You hoisted yourself through the limousine partition window and sat on the passenger seat, not wanting to spend the rest of the ride with a dead body.

Jake narrowed his eyes when your shoes touched the leather seat.

“Really? You’re complaining over my shoes when Harrow is bleeding on your floor mats?”

Jake ignored you and didn’t waste any time and began driving away from the hospital.

Despite being ignored, your eyes continued to watch him, studying what made him so different from the rest.

Jake seemed to be more comfortable with Khonshu’s idea of vengeance, and it made you wonder if he was created because of Khonshu or because of something else.

Either way, the rush of a thousand innocent lives being avenged felt good.

And you had Jake to thank for that.

Now, you really felt that Egypt was a closed chapter…

“I can hear you thinking loudly over there, hermosa.”

His gloved hand reached out and gave your thigh a comforting squeeze.

“Want me to take your mind off things?”

… well, somewhat closed.

[overtaken-stream]

OH MY GOD, Im so hooked, who do you think would have the highest chance of falling in love with the reader (last post) I feel like a schoolgirl

Honestly, I have no idea but between Tobiroppo, for some reason, I think Page One has the highest chance of falling in love, his no-nonsense attitude is a coverup for the flusteration he feels around the reader, maybe it's the gentle speech, the light teasing compared to his sister. Hell, the readers' disdain for him can really easily turn into lust with this man, someone dislikes him? Speaks badly about him and his sister can't do shit about it because of the status? He is a blushy red mess underneath that mask.

If you're talking about x-Drake and Who's who... It's going to be Who's who. With enough interactions, reader could get him to rant about his past, twisting the story as much as he'd like, what is she going to do? Correct it?

The fact that she is Kings s/o or darling will play a major role in him "falling in love."

The reason why I think x-Drake will take the longest to fall in love is his undercover mission. He is very cautious around Beast Pirates and he will be weirded out by some random woman sticking around wanted criminals, that is until he discovers the whole story.

[chvoswxtch]

Hello my love! I love the way you write Frank (AND Matt, but im in a Frank mood tonight). I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn, but if you are, I love to submit one!! Tbh I’m so sick of how douchey guys are these days on apps, and the “oh you just wanted a free meal” behavior and dating rn is the fucking worst. What’s your take on a situation where you’re friends with Frank and you complain about how badly men behave these days, and he offers to take you on a real date and treat you right? Bc I could use a Frank to rescue me and treat me right rn 😫

hello my darling! thank you so much, omg. you're too kind🥺

ok first of all when I say you are PREACHING to the damn CHOIR !!! I tried a few dating apps and I loathed every single one of them. straight up was not having a good time. it was an absolute travesty, so I feel for you so hard right now angel.

this is my first time doing a headcannon so this is super exciting and i'm happy we get to do this together!! because you absolutely DESERVE a frankie to rescue you and treat you right because you are a goddamn CATCH you are a GLOWING GODDESS and anyone should be so heckin LUCKY as to go on a date with you ❤️

headcannon is going to be below the cut bc y'all know I get carried away, especially with my baby frankie

frank castle & dating apps

first things first: frank castle is very old fashioned, so the idea of a dating app probably not only confuses the fuck out of him but also makes him grimace. like the man without a doubt hates texting, preferring an actual phone call instead, and most likely comes up with a million different threats to your security and worst case scenarios when you teach him about online dating

"don't you wanna meet someone the old fashioned way? how can you tell they're not a complete asshole just by a picture and a few words? what if they ain't who they say they are? you still got that knife I gave ya?"

frank already made you share your location with him a long time ago for safety reasons but now makes you text him the address of wherever it is you're going on these "dates" as well as check in with him every hour

he would probably be adamant about coming with you and sitting in a corner somewhere so he could keep an eye on you but you quickly shot that down bc it's frank and he's very hard to miss and you would have a hard time explaining to your date why that big guy across the room looks like he's seconds away from committing murder (you know exactly which look i'm talking about)

frank requests you send him a picture of whatever guy you're meeting just in case he needs to hunt him down find him if you don't check in or something happens, and never hesitates to offer a look of utter disdain and merciless judgment when you finally send it

"really? you're goin' on a date with this? the options on them apps that goddamn bad, sweetheart?"

frank is extremely shameless in verbally eviscerating every single guy you show him or tell him about and never misses an opportunity to make his opinions known

one night you storm into his apartment without knocking (a common occurrence he's finally gotten used to) and plop down next to him on the couch with a glass a wine (he made a mental note to keep the kind you like on hand at all times) and start to vent about your latest disaster date

the guy made you drive nearly an hour out of your way to meet him at a sketchy dive bar, spent the whole night talking about himself and cutting you off every time you spoke, and then had the AUDACITY to ask you to cover the tab because he "forgot" his wallet at home (this actually happened to me once)

frank can't take it anymore. this online dating thing has been going on for months and every time you vent to him about these assholes, it gets harder and harder for him to control his feelings for you because he's supposed to be your friend and the guys you've been going out with look nothing like him and as much as he wants to be with you, he's scared to ruin the one good thing he has. so, frank hatches a plan

"alright, I can't take this shit anymore. don't make plans friday night. we're goin' out."

he says it so nonchalantly, you almost don't catch what he means. you splutter out your wine, staring over at frank because there's no way he just asked you out on a date??? frank catches your look and offers a timid smile, reaching over to squeeze your knee gently

"relax. i'm just gonna show you what a real date should be like. you've been on so many shitty ones, I don't even know if you know what a good one is. let me help you raise your standards a bit."

let me tell you something, frank castle knows a thing or two about romance. this man goes ALL OUT. picking you up at your door (on time, early even), flowers in hand (your favorites bc he actually listens when you talk), is the most dressed up you've ever seen him (it's a dress shirt and jeans but he's usually covered in blood so), opens all the doors for you and pulls out your chair, takes you to a restaurant he knew you would love bc he knows your favorite dish & dessert, spends the whole night asking you questions about things he's always wanted to know about you, makes you laugh with silly jokes and stories, and tells you several times throughout the night how beautiful he thinks you look

you've always had a crush on frank (how could you not honestly) so you were a nervous wreck about the whole thing and what it meant for your friendship and if he was just doing this to be nice because he felt sorry for you or if he actually liked you back

but the date is not only the best one you've ever been on but also the easiest because it's frank and he's your best friend and you've never felt more comfortable or at ease with someone and when the check comes it makes your heart sink because you never want this date to end, even if it isn't real

the entire walk back to your apartment there's a palpable nervous energy between the two of you and his hands are in his pockets but you desperately wish they were holding yours and when you stop at your door there's a million thoughts racing through your head that you wanna say but the look in frank's eyes steals the oxygen straight out of your lungs

"listen I uh...know I said this was just to show you how a real date should be and what not, and I did mean that but...I really just wanted to show you how you should be treated ya'know. how...how I would treat you, if you'd let me. i'd give you the goddamn world if you asked, sweetheart. I don't know if I read tonight wrong, but I know I could be the right man for you, and I think you know that too. at least, I hope you do. there's nothin' I wouldn't do for you, honey. I understand if you don't feel the same way-"

you don't even let frank finish that sentence before you're dragging him down by his collar and crashing your lips together because holy shit frank, your frank, wants you just as much as you want him

needless to say you invite him up and show him just how much you want him despite his weak attempt at trying to continue to be a gentleman

"sweetheart, we can take it slow. I don't mind-" "frank I swear to god if you don't take your pants off right now, i'm never kissing you again." "yes ma'am."