#just a little something since i’m sick and can’t finish a new episode yet

[authortobenamedlater]

*slides this E4 deep dive under the door right before the deadline*

Sick of being sick, this took forever to finish.

The good:

I really liked the touches of “ordinary people doing extraordinary things.” Louis is blind but he still shoulders the grenade launcher. Danilo is a physical therapist and runs into the fray to aid the wounded. Talia is a Marine, sure, but she’s a basically a radio operator. She probably joined to pay for college or something. And she goes with John to FLEETCOM after he said she didn’t have to. Then she flies a bunch of civilians to safety while a bunch of jackals are eating Jacob Keyes for dinner. Riz and Vannak and John are made for this, literally, but many people who weren’t went above and beyond to defend Reach in a losing fight.

John going up against the cloaked elite (the Var Gatanai mentioned at the end of last episode, I assume) is pretty great, as is Talia jumping in with a tire iron. And the energy sword fight toward the end? Mm-hm.

Soren’s “kid watching Mom and Dad fight” moment with Jacob and Halsey 😂 Why do I think little Soren drove Jacob to the edge of his sanity?

John’s FACE when he gets called up during Jacob’s speech. I’m never going to stop finding that funny.

The episode does a good job letting the audience breathe in between the action. Soren especially provides some levity.

The bad:

Vannak deserved better.

Jacob got a great ending, better than his game self, but we never even got to see him step foot on a ship. His promotion to admiral doesn’t even make sense. However, he was the only flag officer who didn’t bug out and deserves props for it.

No Kai, but I didn’t expect her since she’s likely on her way to Onyx with the S-IIIs. She’ll probably be furious once she learns Reach fell and she wasn’t there to fight.

I want The Chief & Cortana Show. This is why I’m here. I will forgive the absence of my faves if we get lots of John comforting Cortana after she leads the Covenant to Earth. Or just a really good reunion.

Questions/speculations/wishful thinking:

Why did Ackerson take the Spartans’ gear? Mr suspects personal vendetta but I wonder if Ackerson has reasons beyond that. He said the Master Chief is “just a guy in a suit.” Does Ackerson want to put someone else in the suit? It would fit with the running theme of the people In Charge want John to be replaceable. Halsey wanted to replace John’s mind, does Ackerson want to replace his body?

One of the trailers shows John walking out of FLEETCOM in his armor, so he obviously gets it back at some point, but I want to know Ackerson’s agenda.

John says they need people like Keyes giving orders, or they’ll be left with people like Ackerson. Well, now Keyes is gone, so who will be Ackerson’s foil? I can’t really think of anyone on the show or in main canon. Miranda is the only possibility and smart as she is, she’s not ready for that.

I don’t think Reach has truly fallen yet. There’s enough footage in trailers (like John walking out of FLEETCOM in his armor) to make me think this is going to drag awhile. Will we get Operation: First Strike? Maybe I’m majoring on a minor, but in an S1 episode Parangosky tells Jacob to call Admiral Whitcomb. Admiral Whitcomb leads Blue Team and friends in First Strike.

Cortana will be forced to lead the Covenant fleet to Earth. This is how we get that shot of John on the drop ship with Jupiter in the foreground.

Vannak is dead and Kai is leading the S-IIIs. Silver Team is getting split. Is John going to get a new team or is he going off by himself? I’m inclined to think the latter at least for the immediate future.

Vannak is going to get hauled to The Body Shop better known as Castle Base for some new parts. They did it with Kelly.

It’s hard to speculate on what next week holds, since aside from Kai with the S-IIIs and John getting to the Halo, Paramount is being tight-lipped about the back half of the season. From the trailer, I suspect we’ll find out what role Kwan plays going forward and what happened with John and Cortana getting separated, and we’ll meet the S-IIIs. Next episode is called Aleria, which according to Halopedia is some butt-end of nowhere colony nobody cares about. I’m not even sure what to make of how it could relate to the episode based on what I’ve seen.

[cocobuny]

My Moon Part 1

Characters : Luan (Portuguese meaning: moon) Watanabe and Kun (meaning: earth) Shin

"You are so stupid! Stop being so in denial! Can't you see that I love you more than him! He doesn't even love you, he treats you as a brother! How long do I have to wait until you realize what your heart really wants? JC tell me, how-"

My laptop closes in front of me and I just explode, "Ah~ Luan why'd you close it? It was just getting good," I lean forward to open it back up but he grabs my hand before I can do so. 

"Kun, that's enough. Don't you have something to finish by tomorrow?"

"Oh that? I can finish that after one last episode, I swear," I reach over again to open my laptop but Luan stops me for the second time. 

"Kun," he starts with a stern tone, "we both know one last episode means absolutely nothing. So please can you just finish this one chapter, I need to get started on the editing. If I don't, we won't be able to go to the beach on Thursday."

He's got me, I've been looking forward to this little getaway we had planned months ago. So I sigh and get back to typing. I'm a writer, an amateur with a big following, I guess; and Luan is my editor. He's also my best friend and roommate. We share an apartment together in the heart of the city. 

I spend half the day writing and I finish enough chapters that would last for 2 weeks. Stretching my arms up, I call out, "oh baby moon~ guess who finished his job?"

Luan poked his head out from the kitchen and smiled, "good job my earth, I finished cooking, so we can eat now. But make sure you save and email me the document, okay? We wouldn't want all your hard work to disappear." Luan comes out holding two plates full with food. 

I run up to the table and sit down, as soon as we lift our utensils, a voice calls out from my room, "thanks guys, I wasn't hungry at all." Nara walks towards us scratching her head and yawning. 

"I thought you were still asleep, so I didn't wake you up; and I know you stayed up pretty late last night," Luan goes back to the kitchen and comes back with another plate. 

"Oh, I've been awake for a while now. You guys were just so sweet that bees were coming in through Kun's room. I wasn't planning on getting attacked by bees, so I came out."

We eat in silence for a while before Nara starts talking again, "how long have guys been dating? You guys seem so openly close, but never said anything?"

Both Luan and I choke on our food, "we're not dating!" We say at the same time, Nara bursts into laughter and says, "okay, I'll keep it a secret. I guess you guys aren't out yet."

"Look Nara, you got it all wrong. Kun and I, we aren't in a relationship, we're just really good friends. We've known each other since we were kids, so obviously we'd be really close. Right Kun?"

I stare blankly and blink a few times until I receive the signal Luan was sending, "yeah, we're not dating. In fact one of us has a girlfriend and the other has fake relationships. We’re very far from being boyfriends or anything like that." After saying this, Nara laughs awkwardly. 

"Sorry guys, it's just I really thought something was happening between the two of you. You guys have just acted differently ever since we first met." 

Once again, the apartment is filled with silence; until Luan speaks up, "the paperworks are ready for the move, so all you have to do is pack up and move a few floors down." Luan stands up to grab a folder and puts it onto the table. 

"Well, I guess it's time to say goodbye. It was really nice to have you around, but I am very much sick of seeing your face everyday," I laugh making Luan glare at me, so I continue, "no, that was a joke. I feel like I got to know you better. So cheers to a new chapter and to our everlasting friendship," I hold up my cup and wait for the others to join, but no one does, "what the heck guys, why're you just leaving me hanging here?"

"Uh, cause it sounds like you're the one moving out and not me," Nara takes a sip of water and Luan continues. 

"I mean you could move out if you wanted to, I'm not going to stop you if that's what you want."

"Aw~ you know I can't live without you, I'm never leaving your side Luan. Never ever," I smirk and hold my cup up again, "so cheers to Nara's new chapter! Let's hope she gets a significant other soon!"

"CHEERS!"

"Wait, why would I get into a relationship? I'm very much an independent woman who doesn't want to worry about another person just yet. Besides, it should be Kun who should get a partner soon."

"Heh? Why would I? And what if I did have a partner but didn't tell you, remember I said-"

"Yeah yeah, one of us has a girlfriend and the other has fake relationships, I can tell who has the fake relationship. Besides, I've seen your drafts for the upcoming chapters, and they're really touchy. You can watch all the dramas, movies, and read all the romance shit you want, but nothing beats personal experience. Aren't I right, Luan?"

Luan nods in silence and I just slowly blink at him; I can't believe he's actually siding with her right now, so far with these years of friendship huh? 

"Well, I think I'mma get going now, I wouldn't wanna be a bother to you guys anymore. I can move in today, right?"

"Yep, you just need  to go to the lobby and pick up your key."

Nara stands up and brings her plate to the sink; shortly after, Luan follows. Are those two really just gonna act like nothing just happened? A person in a relationship and a single person just outed me for being single and writing a romance novel. I mean it's not my fault no one can handle my hot ass, well except for one person. The person who knows me for who I really am, a person in denial about their identity and practically closeted.

[castletown-cafe]

Since I’ve been sick this week, I’ve been making Ralsei Tea - but in a cup! Ralsei Tea, just like Noelle Tea, can easily be made in just a regular cup as opposed to the stovetop method, and in this case you only need one bag each of green tea, peppermint tea, and one slice of lemon or two (depending on how big or how thick you cut the slices).

As you can see, I’m reusing a bag of Smith green tea for this - this brand is not only excellent, but the bags are so big they can be used more than once.

Because Smith tea is expensive, I don’t get to enjoy this tea often. I gotta say, getting some shortly before I got sick was good timing.

These were small lemon slices, so I used two. Brewed them altogether for 3 minutes. If you want the mint or lemon a little stronger, you can leave them in for a minute longer. Having a greater green tea to peppermint and lemon ratio is best because as I’ve learned from my original Ralsei Tea recipe, sometimes it’s OK to just let there be HINTS of peppermint and lemon, as opposed to it being a mint lemon tea with a hint of green. I have under-sensitive taste buds, so overpowering flavors are totally fine to me, even enjoyable. I wanna be able to taste all the flavors, and I tend to overdo measurements. Maybe I’ll remake the Ralsei Tea recipe someday - but I like both the mint-lemon original as well as the green tea with the hints of mint and lemon, too. I’m sure as I continue to gain experience in the kitchen, ild episodes and recipes will likely be redone or updated, while I move forward with new recipes.

for anyone who wanted to see my Finding Nemo mug, here it is!

[inkofyoonkoo]

I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in | 1

🏵️ Wordcount: 30k 🏵️ Genre: Fluff/angst/smut | From strangers to lovers!AU • FWB!AU 🏵️ Jungkook x Reader 🏵️ Description: In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past 🏵️ Warnings: age difference (10 years gap, both characters are adults); mention of panic attack; characters death (not the main protagonists); 🏵️  [EDIT] I should’ve added it since the beginning but I totally forgot because I’m dumb.  The little poems that open every scene aren’t mine (I’d give a finger to write that beautifully 💔): they’re Japanese poems I’ve found randomly, or belong to well-known writers -so to them goes all the credit.  🏵️ A/N: since I’ve almost finished the ending of this story, I start posting here the first part too! In all honesty, I don’t know if someone will ever give it a chance (due to the thematics and the length) but if you do, thank you from the bottom of my heart! Please consider hmu if you arrived till the end and like it because this story drenched me of every energy and it’d be nice to hear your opinion 🐰  

You don’t love Jungkook.

You love when he comes, when he makes you come. 

You're just this. You're barely whispered orgasms in the darkness of his bedroom; lazy kisses stolen in the backyard of his house; airy laughters over a glass of wine; tears hidden on a shoulder; little sips of breath in the crook of each other's neck when you hug tight, on your sofa; early morning strolls, your hands so close for your fingers to intertwine in the slightest; tales of a carefree childhood that taste of watermelon and beer; whispered words on a pillow -too much intimate for the pair of you to forget them when the night is over.

It's a palliative that makes you forget about the past you’ve lost.

Something that is bound to end when the warmth of summer will start to fade.

Something that… is close to happiness.

Something…

"The magic fades too fast The scent of summer never lasts The nights turn hollow and vast But nothing remains … Nothing lasts"

If someone would’ve told you that you'd end up spending your days far away from the blinding lights of a big city, you'd have surely laughed at the top of your lungs. 

Born and raised in a large town for most of your young age, moved to Seoul to study at KNU and make your dream come true -drinking every ounce of a bittersweet nocturnal life made of discos and cocktails and rides in taxis and sudden 3:00 AM snacks bathed in the neon lights of nightclubs, it was only natural for you to believe that your existence would grow in a chaotic metropolis.

You could only picture yourself there, immersed in a perpetual, fast, ever-changing chaos that would leave you breathless… and yet, at the age of thirty three, the only place that feels like home is a village nestled amidst the mountains -so small you can easily pinpoint every single person and associate them to a specific name, a specific quirk (and even know their genealogical tree by heart)... 

Living in a small area with a very few inhabitants who know each other as if they belonged to the same family has its pro and cons: if someone gets a flue, there’s the high chance that the sickness will spread like wildfire; if a problem occurs, there’s always a kind neighbour ready to help you -on the other hand, though, there’s a risk that your secret will become the new (embellished) gossip. The trust that ties people with one another is so lasting you rarely experience episodes of backstabbing or dreads -but when it happens, oh God, you should pack your things at the speed of light and migrate to the most distant planet.

Life isn’t hectic, but the silence and peacefulness that embraces the town borders like a dome is so homey you can’t get enough. Sure, your mind sometimes echoes back to all those times you were wrapped in a sort of feverish excitement for abrupt plot-twists, filling your heart to the brim of gushing nostalgia -especially because the only memorable, upcoming event here is the annual harvest festival that is held around the end of June. However, something noteworthy happens once in a while: like the time Mr Park cheated on his wife with the young flower girl; or when Kwon’s son got arrested for dealing… or, like, when a new person comes to town.

Especially when a new person comes to town…

The motionless quietness of the village shattered on a chill morning of April, when the pebbly street that passes through your residential area welcomed a rickety little van with three guys in it. Now, considering the horde of tourists that invade the village only to reach the mountain when the good season or winter is approaching, this shouldn’t be a remarkable episode; but the fact that the vehicle stopped right in front of the long-inhabited Kim’s house, and someone started living there, well… that’s for sure extraordinary.

Even more extraordinary is the fact that a month has already flown by, and everyone's still talking about the: “handsome young man” (or “odd young man”, it depends on the recounts) who came and never left...

“Mrs Choi told me he probably broke out of jail. I told her we should call the police, but she said it’s just a rumor and has no evidence to prove it.” Ms Kim flickers her hand right up above the plate of rice cakes to shoo away a fly, a little frown appearing between her well-finished eyebrows. “In my opinion, he’s associated with some weird gang. I mean, did you see his right arm? All those tattoos must mean something!”

You nibble at the small rice cake, running the tip of your tongue on your bottom lip to get rid of crumbs -and to refrain yourself from bursting out laughing (if she knew that her beloved, gentle Seokjinnie has got a nice flower tattoed on top of his left buttcheek, she’d surely have a heart attack).

“It seems so impossible to me. He’s been here for a month and hasn’t caused any trouble yet. And he’s so polite. The old Mrs Kwon told me he helped her carry the groceries, a few days ago. And he also cleaned Mr Lee’s garden.” Ms Min closes the fridge with her foot, the glasses full of orange-juice on the tray she’s holding swing for the sudden motion.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Ms Kim retorts, mouth twitching (just like Seokjin would do). “Appearance can be deceiving! Being polite doesn’t change the fact that he can be a delinquent, or hangs out with bad companies.” She gives the landlady a warm smile when she hands her out a glass, nodding a little. “Do you remember Choi's youngest son? Such a good boy, him and my Seokjinnie practically grew up together… and then he robbed poor Wooshik’s shop.” She turns to you, searching for some support in her statement. “(Y/N), you know who I’m talking about, mh? He was one of Namjoon’s students, wasn’t he?”

There’s a pang of poignant pain in your chest when his name tumbless of her tongue with so much ease, like he was out on errands, ready to come back home when the last rays of sunshine will stop seeping through the fronds, and it spreads to the liquid sparks now trembling in your eyes. 

You take a sip of orange-juice, trying to shove back down the lump in your throat. “Yes, he felt so bad when he came to know about it. He says Donghae was such a smart guy, he could’ve done great things…”

Namjoon spent the whole night sitting on the veranda overlooking the luxuriant garden in the backyard, eyes fixed on the trees stretching up to the starry sky of October, a closed book laying on his lap; his hand was lazily stroking Moonie’s head, peacefully sleeping next to him, and your requests to come back inside were always welcomed with a vague: “Mhm” fading in the chilly breeze. The news shocked him so much that he couldn’t close his eyes without picturing the gentle smile Donghae used to deliver him every time he asked for advice, during the breaks at school. Namjoon never stopped wondering who led him down a bad road; what pushed him to commit such an awful crime; how he couldn’t notice the twist his life was taking…

Ms Min spares you a quick, sympathetic look before focusing on her drink, lips morphed in a gentle smile that reminds you of her son. Ms Kim, instead, seems on the cusp of telling you something, only to close her mouth and shake her head shortly after.

She curls a lock of black hair between her fingers, the sparkling red painting her nails shines in the sunlight coming from the opened window. “Anyway, I was trying to say—”

“Oh, c’mon, cut that poor guy some slack.” Ms Min interrupts, resting her cheek on her palm, poking the tip of her tongue on her cheek (just like Yoongi would do). “Ok, he’s got many tattoos and piercings. And his mint hair is pretty odd… but let’s not forget that my Yoongi-chi has the habit of dying his hair pretty often, too.” She rests her elbow on the coffee table, the shoulder strap of her worn-out vest slides down along her arm. “Do you remember when he went through his purple phase? People kept telling me that he put himself into trouble and this was his own way to communicate, when the truth was that he liked the purple color a lot.”

Yoongi liked a girl who loved the purple color a lot, actually. He thought this could be a brilliant way to catch her attention. She broke his heart the last year of high school, after a couple of blowjobs and a very few kisses secretly shared in the sports equipment storeroom while their classmates were having gym class outside. He says he barely remembers her if you touch upon the topic, but it never gets unnoticed the glint of annoyance streaming in his thin eyes if he only hears her name.

“And yet, my son is such a good man… or not?” her eyes become two threatening half-moons (just like Yoongi would do) now pinned to her friend’s face, tinged with a ruby shade that spreads down to her neck.

Ms Kim nods. “Yoongi-chi is a gentleman. The exception that proves the rule, I’d say.” 

Ms Min huffs. “I don’t know. The new boy has got sweet eyes. A boy with such gentle eyes can’t hurt any living thing, I’d stake my son.”

You let out a chuckle. You’re dying to confess to Yoongi that his mother would sell him only to save the reputation of a stranger with a pair of Bambi eyes.

You don't participate much in their conversation, mostly because you don't know what to say about the new boy in town: you don't know his name, you don't know how old he is; you don't know what he's doing here, if he's going to stay permanently or if he's just another fleeting soul that will graze the harmony of this place for a couple of months before disappearing again. You suppose he's a relative of the Kim's, considering he lives in their house -but you don't have the certainty. You only know that he's got an ocean of tattoos scattered on his right arm; so many piercings you lost count after the first three; mint hair styled in an undercut; and he always spends his days with an energetic dog who barks every time he pinpoints your peaceful Moonie, napping at the entrance.

But that's it. Nothing more, nothing special. You're really not interested in him -you aren't really interested in anything anymore, actually.

The new boy in town is just a blurry silhouette in your grey world, perfectly blended with all the other shadows that gravitate in your atmosphere… and you're pretty sure he'll be just that for all the time he'll stay here—!

"If I were you, I'd pay attention, (Y/N)." Ms Kim's voice breaks through your consciousness, there's a note of worry that has you blinking in confusion. "I caught him staring at your house every time he walks his dog out," she comments, lowering her voice -like she feared to be heard by prying ears. 

A line appears between your knitted brows as you try to recall all the moments you might have seen him look at you in a suspicious way, but your mind is vacant like a typhoon just passed by (in your defense, you stopped taking notice of whatever happens around you; there's a high chance your mind hasn't registered anything in particular…)

You rotate your shoulders to get rid of the cold chills spreading from your skull. "He was probably staring at Moonie. He's got a dog too, after all." You stretch out to look at the various rice cakes, undecided on which one to eat first. 

Ms Min grins. "Darling, I noticed too how he looks at you when he comes to the restaurant." Her left brow wobbles up. "So, unless Moonie started walking on two legs and serving customers: no, I don't think he's interested in your dog." She spares a glance to her friend, who seems unable to see the joking side of this whole situation. "He gets all shy when you serve him, he starts stuttering… adorable."

“Shady," Ms Kim mutters, going back to listing all the reasons why they should establish a security service and patrol the area to prevent any horrible crime. 

You let out a chuckle, observing the women discussing. For a very brief moment, it feels like witnessing their respective sons in the middle of an argument -Yoongi, unbothered and ready to spit harsh comments to cut the conversation short; and Seokjin, talking in a rush, neck and cheekbones scarlett for the passion exuding in his words. 

The fact that someone noticed you amidst many should make you all giddy inside, and excited to meet them again -hopeful that something might happen between the pair of you, just like in those rom-com movies you loved to watch on Sunday afternoons; and yet, you don't really care about it.

Namjoon would describe the phase you're going through like a long, everlasting, painful winter.

You thought you'd get used to it, over time… 

You didn't. 

"Godlike the man who sits at her side, who watches and catches that laughter which (softly) tears me to tatters: nothing is left of me, each time I see her…"

When you walk out the backyard of Ms Min's restaurant, Yoongi is already there, enjoying his break. 

He keeps his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone, the filter cigarette tightened between his thumb and index finger already half consumed. 

There's a little frown between his knitted brows, the tip of his tongue pokes on his cheek. He's visibly irritated and, despite your vain attempt to contain yourself, you can't help but sneer -because in these few years you've learned to know him like the back of your hand, and you perfectly know what's whirling in his mind. 

"They aren't together," you announce your presence with this comment, opening the can of Coke you took from the kitchen. 

Wide-eyed, Yoongi shifts his stare to you. The tip of his ears is flushed with a delicious crimson shade that has your fingers twitching for pinching them. 

He blinks twice, stare flickering from you to his phone. "I wasn't-I'm not—shit." He curses under his breath, pulling his phone inside the pocket of his apron with a nervous gesture. "How do you know it?" He takes in some smoke, avoiding the curve of playfulness on your lips. 

"That you were peering on Minji's Instagram, or that they aren't together?" Your eyes crinkle in the corner when he starts mumbling incomprehensible things (some insults, probably). "You don't see it, but your eyes shine when you look at her pictures, or we talk about her." You notice his shoulders stiffening, but apart from a muscle twitching in his jaw there's no trace of annoyance across his face "Anyway, I questioned her. They're just colleagues." You hesitate, scrutinizing the sparks in his eyes. "She likes Seoul a lot."

He shrugs. "Good for her."

"But she misses living here even more," you continue, ignoring his harsh statement. Tenderness crackles in your chest for Yoongi's incapacity to sort out his emotions and act like a mature grown-up. "She keeps asking me about you: how's Yoongi-chi doing? Is he eating? Is he getting enough sleep?" You sink in his shaky eyes for a second, before he lowers his head to hide a delicate smile from you. You drum your fingers on the can. "I think you should write to her. You're wasting a good occasion for—"

"You're one to talk about wasting good occasions? Don't make me laugh.." Yoongi gasps for air the moment he gazes at you, wide-eyed, then he curses under his breath. "Sorry, (Y/N), I didn't mean to—"

He meant it. But you accept his words with a nod, aware that your friend isn't entirely wrong: considering how you've been living your life these past years, all the stories you cut in the bud at the first hint of affection, you are the last person who could judge others or give advice. 

"No, you're right. I should mind my own business." You take a sip of Coke, feeling the area around your eyes swell up. "It's just… it hurts to see you like this."

"It hurts to see you like this, too." He scans the expression of vagueness dancing across your features. "You know how it feels, after all." He takes in some smoke and lets it out, breaths escaping in grey curls slowly fading in the air. 

You hold the can tighter, knuckles white for the grip. "It's different," you retort, feeling a thousand needles piercing through your heart. "Minji is still here. You're still on time to save things between you two. You - you can't compare her to Joonie, you can't." Words trail off mid-sentence, liquefying in a thick silence that has your muscles flexing all at once. 

Yoongi scratches his nape, munching the corner of his mouth. "Listen, can we just change the topic?" He grunts, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer. 

“And what do you want to talk about? The new boy?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, enough! Jin's mother and mine do nothing but blather about him every single day. It’s getting boring.” He rests against the wall, spreading his legs. “What’s so interesting, anyway? He’s just a boy.”

“A boy with lots of tattoos and piercings, with mint hair, who looks like a member of a gang or a drummer… not really interesting, aha.” You let out a chuckle, fixing your apron. “Jin’s mom thinks he’s some kind of delinquent.”

“Whoever has got a piercing or two is a delinquent, to her. I still remember when I got my first earring. She told Seokjin that—"

"That he should reconsider your friendship, I know," you conclude at his place, tenderly. 

"Yeah, well… It was my first year of high school. It was pretty traumatic." He snaps his tongue, twiddling with the couple of hood earrings adorning his right ear. "And, anyway, I don't think he's a bad guy. He's too polite, it seems like he never cursed in his whole life." The left corner of his mouth quirks up. "Mom said he stares at you. And that he blushes if you talk to him."

You huff, shaking your head. "I know, she warned me. Jin's mom wanted me to install a burglar alarm."

He arches a brow. "You should stop hanging out with our mothers."

"Why? They're funny! And Ms Kim makes some delicious rice cakes." You let out a dreamy sigh, feeling your mouth run dry only by thinking of her cookies. 

Yoongi parts his lips, he's got the expression of someone who's ready to insult you; however, he manages to exhale a feeble muttering, rubbing his finger on his temple. "But my mom's right, he keeps staring at you." He brings back the previous topic, ignoring your grunt. "I noticed it too. He looks at you like you were a piece of meat. And that guy loves meat." He smirks. "Do you want me to test the water?"

You squelch a chuckle. "No. Let's be honest, Yoongi-chi, you'd only be able to make him run away from this town." You spare him an amused glance before going back to sipping your beverage. "And I'm not interested."

Yoongi breathes out the smoke one last time, putting the cigarette out under his sole. "Are you sure? He's pretty cool. And I'm pretty sure he hides some toned muscles under those baggy clothes. Ugh, don't look at me like this… the other day I served a group of girls full of hormones, I still remember their conversation. It's a nightmare." His brows wobble up in an ominous sign that has chill travelling down your spine. "Don't you miss being held by someone?"

"Don't you?" You retort, less playful than your friend. "I'm not interested," you repeat, feeling a cold sensation settling in your lungs. It gets hard to breathe.  

He shrugs. "You should try, having a bit of fun would do you good. You know, let yourself go, and not push people away as soon as they show a bit of interest. You deserve happiness." He gazes up to you, stare and features softening each passing second. "You really do, (Y/N)."

"You do, too," you mumble, seeing him clean his apron and jeans before heading toward the door. Yoongi's words cuddle your heart in turmoil, but it doesn't last much. "You know? You should put a like on her posts. I bet she'd write to you immediately."

"She won't. She hates me and doesn't want to see me anymore, remember?" He says, after a brief moment of hesitation. From that position, you can only see the tip of his ears -it's bright red. You'd like to hug him from behind and tell him that everything will work out.

You shrug. "There's no harm in trying." You deliver him an encouraging smile. "Tell your mom that I'll finish my Coke and I'll be right there." You shake your drink a little, resting your head against the wall to get some rest before going back to working. 

You relax, hearing the clack of the door. A sudden thud, though, makes your eyelids flutter up in a rush. 

"The new boy likes banana Milk and rice cakes. It's the only thing he buys when he comes to the supermarket." Yoongi peers at you, sticking his head out of the doorframe. "You should give him a little welcoming present. Bet you'd make him happy." A smirk etches itself on his face before your arched brows. "There's no harm in trying."

“You’ve to look closely to see its loveliness You have to look for a long time to realize that it’s lovable You too, are also like that”

In a village so small, there's not much to do to fill your time if you didn't plan anything in advance: days look all the same, a dull redundancy of details and faces and names you know like the back of your hand that don't spark any excitement anymore. Everything is so predictable that diverting your usual path to visit the local pastry shop is comparable to an unexpected plot twist. 

Or, maybe, everything seems colored in grey because Namjoon isn't here to keep you company…

Sat on the seesaw in the small park close to your neighbour, you stare at some children trying to catch the attention of Moonie, comfortably resting under a bench (the usual bench Namjoon used to sit on to read his books, situated under a tree big enough to provide some shadow and coolness). 

You go back to watching in front of you, contemplating the black contours of the mountains rising up in the horizon, wrapped in hues of orange and red as the sun sets down just behind their peaks. 

Your eyelids flicker down, heavy, and your head gently lays against the chains sustaining your seat. You squelch a yawn, rubbing the puffy area under your left eye. Another sleepless night, another day spent dragging yourself through the day.

You should leave. 

You know this is the only way to take charge of your own life again and stop feeling like you're drowning even if you're above water… but you can't. This simple thought bugged you so many times lately to the point you found yourself cracking your eyes open in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling cloaked in dark; but nausea starts brewing in your stomach if you only picture yourself grabbing your belongings and putting them in a luggage, ready to leave this place once and for all.

From your home… the home Joonie chose for the pair of you to spend the rest of your days, together… That's why you can't go. The awareness that you'd let him down, if you'd ever decide to leave; and, anyway, too many memories connect you to this place, you don't feel ready to toss them behind your back.

You take in a deep breath, relishing the warmth of June kissing your skin in a gentle touch, eyes closed and head slightly tilted to the back. The tip of your toes presses against the ground, you apply a little pressure to swing back and forth, slowly. 

Joonie loves this part of the village. You're pretty sure this is his favorite place. If you only concentrate a bit, you can picture him chilling here, after school, before coming home for dinner… and you're there, by his side, cuddling Moonie (your head on his shoulder; his low voice as he reads his favorite paragraph; his fingers intertwined with yours; his soft kisses on your temple).

You used to love this park with every fiber of your being; but now that Joonie has been gone, all this green and peacefulness don't make any sense anymore...

A dog barking in the distance breaks through your consciousness, suddenly, scattering all around your whirling thoughts. Your eyelids flutter up in a rush, a glint of sunshine strokes your eyes, obliging you to close them to accustom yourself to the light. You cover them with a hand and turn to the left, searching for the source of the noise that scattered away all your thoughts. 

Brows snapping together, your attention is drawn by a short-haired dog stretching toward Moonie to sniff him, before going back to barking. It takes you a couple of seconds to get your thoughts in order, finally realizing that he is the new boy's pet -he must belong to him, no one else owns a Doberman here. He barks again when your dog doesn't seem intent to interact. 

Curiously, you take a look around, expecting to see his owner nearby -but aside from you and a couple of grannies chatting in front of the hair salon on the other side of the street, there's no one else around. 

You munch the corner of your mouth, indecisive about what to do: you could wait here for the boy to show up (even if you'd prefer having anything do with him, especially after all the things your friends' mothers told you); or you could take the dog to him on your way home… But what if the boy is desperately searching for him? I mean… Joonie lost sight of Moonie for five minutes once and he almost bought a whole distillery to get rid of sadness, thinking that his beloved pet could be gone forever. 

Letting out a sigh, you stand up, fixing the bleached jeans. You slowly approach the two pets, paying attention to not annoy the Doberman, considering that you don't know how he may react to a stranger's presence. You crouch down, Moonie immediately turns to you, stretching toward you for some cuddles. 

"Moonie, hey…" you stroke the top of his head, the corners of your mouth quirking up. "Why are you ignoring him? He just wants to play—oh!" The other dog suddenly rests his paws on your lap, making you lose balance. You fall on the ground, his legs wrapping around your own while sniffing you. "Ouch… you really are having fun, mh?" You caress his ear, trying to calm him down. 

"Bam! No!"

The dog, probably hearing his own name, completely forgets about you. You follow the trajectory of his stare, eyes widening when you take notice of the person dashing toward you -a plastic bag brushing against his leg. 

The new boy in town…

He halts his own run at a few steps from you, bowing. "I'm - I'm deeply sorry!" He bows again when you stare at him, the tip of his ears tinged with a vibrant ruby shade. "I had to buy some - some things and I lost sight of him for a second and he—Bam, no…" he bends on his knees, resting his hands on his sides to drag him back and help you to free yourself. "Did - did he hurt you?!"

"Don't worry, he didn't, I'm fine." You deliver him a small smile before focusing again on his dog, still using you as a perch but attention fixed to his owner. "So, you're Bam. Such a cute name," you comment, cupping his muzzles with both hands. "He's pretty energetic."

The boy stares at you intensely -as if he just zoned out. His eyes grow bigger when your brows arch for his sudden mutism. "Ah, he is. He's still a puppy." He pats his back. "I instructed him, but he gets pretty excited when he's interested in someone new." He swallows when his shaky stare, hidden behind some orange sunglasses, engulfs into your own, amused. 

"Don't think he was interested in me—" your words melt into a chuckle when Bam taps his nose on your cheek (Jungkook's lips curve in a beaming smile). "He was trying to make friends with Moonie. But, well… he prefers being on his own." You give a little nod toward your pet, still peacefully resting under the bench, mouth ajar and tongue sticking out. 

"Oh, it's true… you've a dog too." He places the plastic bag on the bench, crouching down. "You - you live across from me. He usually spends his days outside, resting on the steps." He shakes his head before your stretched lips. "I - I'm not spying on you or anything. It's - it's just that your house is close to mine, so it's easy to notice - notice things." Words tumble off in a messy rush, fingers curling around the hem of his harem pants. 

A burst of tenderness gushes out of your heart. You suddenly feel guilty for the anxiety that wrapped you a few minutes earlier, overwhelmed by the rumours circulating about him; actually… you feel bad for the fact that some rumours started in the first place. 

A small, reassuring smile blooms on your lips. "It's ok, don't worry." 

A muscle twitches in jaw, but your comment is helpful enough to make him relax. He catches a breath before resting his arms on his thighs, curling his lips and snapping his tongue to catch your dog's attention. High-pitched words fly out his mouth, followed by a giggle when Moonie finally crawls out his hiding spot, sniffing his hand. 

Now that you think of it, despite the many occasions your paths intertwined, you never stopped to seriously talk to each other -you probably shared a comment or two about the weather when you served him at the restaurant, but that's that. And yet, this boy exudes so much quietness he makes you feel at ease, like he's always lived here. 

Taking advantage of his sudden distraction and the stillness of this very moment, without clients calling you back and forth for you to take their orders, without the loud laughters and chattering plaguing the atmosphere, you take your time to finally look at him: the baseball cap he's wearing, worn backwards, permits you to take a glimpse only of his dark undercut, but the bits of mint hair that don't fit fall over his forehead in thin waves; his ears are adorned with piercings that run all along the shell -three dangling earrings on the only visible portion you can get from your position, one on the upper part; his infamous doe eyes are hidden behind orange sunglasses that match with the loose-fitting, bright yellow t-shirt he's wearing. Tattoos of various shapes and dimensions decorate his right arm, black ink branching on his honey-like skin and intertwining with the bluish veins arousing from the back of his hand, covered with gothic letters with no meaning to you… 

He's arguably a bit flamboyant, but rumours aren't generous with him: he's the typical city boy who shows up here for the holidays, flaunting a stylish look that gets considered eccentric by the majority of inhabitants who never stuck their noses out of the borders of the village. But to you, it feels like being thrown back to your halcyon, hectic days in Seoul -surrounded by so many variegated people you couldn't tell what was extravagant and what's not anymore. 

This boy...  He pinches the nostalgia you tend to cocoon you when you feel smothering, making it hard to forget about a past you decided to forget. 

You realize you're intensely gawking at him only when he gazes toward you, lips curled in a way that emphasizes the small hoop running along the right corner of his mouth. 

"Oh—" he takes off his sunglasses and cap in a rush, raking his fingers through the flat hair sticking to the roots to fix it. "S-sorry, I should've taken them off earlier." 

"Ah, I don't mind what you're wearing." You rub a hand on your face, snorting a laugh. "Sorry, it sounded so bad. I just wanted to say—"

He chuckles (a nice chuckle, actually). "I got it, it's ok… thanks." He moistens his lips, teeth torturing the bottom in a rhythmic pace. “I'm J-Jeon Jungkook, anyway.” 

The corners of your mouth quiver a little before quirking up, shaping your mouth in a type of soft smile that wasn't blooming on your face for a while. “I'm (Y/N)...” you're about to apologize for staring at him earlier like he was an alien, but his next comment makes words wither in the back of your throat. 

"I know," he scratches his crimson nape. "You - you work at Min's restaurant. Ahm, people often call you by your name, so I - I sort of learned it."

You swallow, mentally listing once more all the warnings that Seokjin's mother desperately tried to instill in your brain. “Oh, you remember about me…"

He nods, voice escaping in a soft blow. “How could I not?” His eyes grow bigger before your arched brows, like he just realized what he said. “I – I mean, I noticed you because you ignore me.” A small pout tugs at his lips, brows snapping together. He reminds you of your little ones when they try to speak English but words just don't come out. Then, frustration melts in a small giggle. "The other day, you offered me a cookie shaped like a bunny. I felt so bad eating it because it was so - so cute but then I was starving and I didn't feel like cooking and so—" his recount, mumbled in a sheepish rush, fades in the effervescent sound of your airy chuckle. 

You are aware you're going to look pretty rude for interrupting in this way, but you couldn't refrain yourself. The way his fingers flicker in the air; the way his words bounce upon the embarrassment; his red cheekbones… he was hilarious, in a good way that tickled your heart and made a burst of laughter bubble in your throat. 

And it's so… weird, that piping hot warmth expanding in your chest like a balloon. It's weird and nice, you weren't feeling it for a while. 

The muscles around your mouth and the jaw hurt as if they never knew how to do such a simple and natural act. 

It takes you a few seconds to turn to him, aware that your demeanor might have offended him. You're expecting a frown of disappointment, a childish pout, a scrunch in his nose; and yet, when you turn, there's no trace of annoyance dancing across his features. Actually, his lips are morphed in a smile and you notice a proud set in his straightened shoulders, as if he was satisfied with making you laugh.

"Sorry, it's just that you—" you stop (telling him you find him adorable would only embarrass him more). "Ahm, we keep apologizing, apparently… but, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

“You didn't." He hooks his fingers under Moonie's chin, scratching it. "Min's restaurant is a nice place, though. Probably my favorite restaurant—well, it's not like there's not many choices. But they make some great meat, and Min Noona is very sweet. She doesn't - doesn't look at me like I'm some kind of criminal."

“She is…” you lower your stare, guilt washes you from head to toes for all the times you laughed when people referred to him as 'odd' or whatever other epithet. "I'm sorry they’re giving you a hard time. People here are usually very nice but, you know, nothing happens around here. A new person in town is an extraordinary event."

He scrunches his nose. "It's been a month already."

You move your leg backward when Bam finally loosens the grip around it. He rotates on his spot before bowing a little, inviting you to play with him. You hesitate, but Jungkook isn't paying any attention to the pair of you, too busy focusing on your dog. You chew on your bottom lip, grabbing a small rock before tossing it toward the seesaw. Bam runs after it, barking. 

"Also… there are so many tourists who look like me," he points out, irritated.

"Yeah, well… but they usually come and go. They don't stay…" your eyes crinkle in the corner when he turns to you, skeptic. "You see you'll get used to it."

He shrugs. "I don't care. I'll leave at the end of August anyway." Jungkook turns to Moonie, whistling. 

You swallow, taking notice of Bam dashing toward you two with the corner of your eye. He bows again, back wiggling mid-air. "You'll leave a big void in their lives when you'll go away, you know?" You can't explain why, but there's a warm sense of solace by knowing that he won't stay here too long. 

Jungkook laughs, front teeth now exposed (Yoongi told you he looks like a cute bunny when he chuckles at the utmost of his happiness. He was right. And, yes, Yoongi used the word 'cute' to describe him -your friend is a softie in disguise, after all). 

You press your palm on the bench to help yourself stand up. You bend your knees a little to stretch before plopping down on the wooden seat, recollecting a stone. You swing it in the air to catch Bam's attention before throwing it behind his back. You move closer to the corner when Jungkook imitates you, sitting on the other side. He rests his elbows on his thighs and hunches his back over, giggling when Moonie tries to nudge his face.

In this position, his arms seem more toned (of course, you don't stare long enough to ascertain that he's beefy as your brain claims it to be).

"Ahm, about earlier… I didn't mean to stare. But you've got some nice tattoos… they're pretty." 

Jungkook lifts his right arm up, rotates it a little to reveal other drawings. "Thanks! I always dreamed about getting one… and when I finally turned twenty, I got my first." He stares at them, fondly. "I didn't plan to get so many but, well… almost three years have passed and I'm still thinking of getting some more."

Almost three years… you do a little calculation and—oh God, you hope Yoongi and Seokjin will NEVER get to know that Jungkook is twenty three years old. They'd start telling you that a toyboy is a gift of destiny for you to escape from the winter of your existence… 

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, curious about your sudden mutism -and the round eyes. And the stretched lips. "What?" 

You snap back down to reality, shaking your head. "No, it's just… I wonder what a young boy like you is doing here." You fondly observe Bam resting his muzzle on his left thigh, while Moonie is using the opposite one like a pillow. 

"Discovering the true meaning of life?" Or, more simply: holiday." Jungkook stares at you through his lashes, waiting. It feels like he's waiting for you to submerge him with dozens of questions; and, although you're pretty tempted to question him about his life, the fact that he seems to like your lack of interest in him is enough to smother every curiosity. So, Jungkook darts you a glance brimmed with gratitude before going back to focusing on your pets. 

For the past minutes, you keep talking about your dogs and other small talks you'd usually have with random tourists. It's just when Bam rests his paws on his forearms that Jungkook calls it a night. 

"Ok, ok, you wanna go, mh?" He says, in a high-pitched voice that has your heart squealing for the cuteness. He lifts his legs up a bit for the dogs to inch away, then he stands up, cleaning his harem pants. "It's better if I go." 

You nod, patting a hand on your side to catch Moonie's attention. He approaches you, sitting down close to you, and your hand immediately runs to caress his head. 

“Ahm…” Jungkook's fingers grip at the piercing on his eyebrow, his teeth clamp to the bottom lip. "It's been nice - nice to talk to you, (Y/N)." He wears his cap backwards and his sunglasses, bowing a little

"Yeah, me too, Jungkook-ssi.”

Jungkook smiles, a dimple appears on his right cheek…

Namjoon had two dimples on both sides...

You really think so. You really think that it's been nice to talk to him. 

“My soul has travelled long and far to find yours”

Showing up a month late to your neighbour's house to welcome him in town isn't very polite. Actually, showing up only two days after a random conversation you shared in the park speaks volume about the fact that you're just trying to clear your conscience -and it also makes you feel pretty stupid, considering the ten years gap between the pair of you (even though he still doesn't know about this tiny detail, mh).

However, Jungkook's sheepish words kept you company throughout these days (seeping through all those thoughts that usually fill your mind from the very first second you crack your eyes open to the last time you flicker your eyelids down) and you thought… you thought that there's nothing wrong in giving some rice cakes to someone.

You thought that Namjoon would have been delighted to meet the newcomer. He'd offer him some tea; he'd passionately described the numerous sightseeings that make this place a small diamond cuddled by the mountains.

You thought… that this is the first time that you think about a man (a boy?) who isn't Namjoon...

Chewing on your bottom lip, you travel those few steps that separate you from the entrance. You tighten the paper bag against your breast while climbing up the couple of worn-out steps, heart getting stuck in your ribcage when you're finally across the wooden door. Your trembling hand flickers toward the doorbell but some pop music flowing from the windows left ajar makes an alarm bell ring in your head: you're going to bother him. 

Jungkook said he's here on holiday, clearly emphasizing that he appreciated the fact that you paid him little attention… His friendly conversation was just an act of courtesy, not an invitation to step inside his routine. 

You sigh, shaking your head. This is ridiculous! You aren't doing anything bad! You're just going to give him these damn rice cakes, wish him goodnight, and forget about him! 

A line appears between your knitted brows as you push the doorbell, hand running to curl around the hem of your frayed sweater. Calm down, relax… You're just going to give him this welcoming gift and go back to your usual, eventless days made of the same, redundant things and faces and names—!

A sudden bark sound coming from the inside snaps you back down to reality, and your muscles tense all at once. Anxiety tugs at your stomach when you hear Jungkook's muffled voice floating back to you, trying to hush his dog. You swallow, trying to ignore the mild queasiness brewing in your stomach.

You tuck some hair behind your ear (the holes closed up, you stopped wearing earrings. You loved wearing earrings…), trying to fix the messy tail sloping on a side. You rub a knuckle to the corner of your eye, paying attention to not smear the makeup -only to remember that it's been a long while since you've brushed some eyeshadow on your eyelids. 

It dawns on you the realization that you're a breathing disaster. I mean… you planned to come here to give him a gift, and you didn't even make an effort to look presentable. On the other hand, though, he already saw you a billion times at your worst when you work at Min's restaurant or you simply wander through the town, so he should be used by now to the feeble dark circles and the unstyled hair. Also, why do you care so much about your physical appearance? You aren't here to flaunt your pretty facade. You're just here to give him some cookies and—!

"Hello?" The door opens all of a sudden to reveal Jungkook, a little frown between his brows and a veil of annoyance in his somber stare. As soon as he takes in the sight of you, though, surprise fills his big eyes, and pulls up the corners of his mouth. "(Y/N), hi—oh!" He clings to the door when Bam runs between his legs to approach you, resting his paws against your lap. "Bam, no! Aish…" he sighs, scratching his hair. 

"Don't scold him, it's ok." You hold the bag with your arm, using your free hand to pat the top of his muzzle. You gaze up at Jungkook, noticing some stains of cream paint on his right cheek and his baggy t-shirt. "Sorry for intruding. Maybe you were busy…"

He shakes his head vigorously, fingers curling tightly around the doorframe. "No, no... You aren't. I'm just - just painting and—" he spares a quick glance to his own outfit, toes curling in a pair of worn-out sandals. "Did - did you need anything?"

You scrutinize his face to search for any trace of frustration for showing up here so abruptly, but only a muscle twitches in his clenched jaw. He seems… embarrassed, as if you interrupted him in a private moment. You give a quick glance to his grey bermuda shorts (ignore the long stretch of his legs, ignore it) , reminding yourself that he's a 23-year-old and you're butting into his free time, after dinner, without any warning. 

You swallow, wishing for a hole to open beneath your feet and suck you into the center of the world. "I… I went to the pastry shop and I thought I could buy you something. Ahm, you know, give you some sort of belated welcoming present." Your attempt of a smile quivers when you hand him out the paper bag. Your arms fall along your sides, numb. 

After a brief moment of surprise, he opens it in a rush (he resembles one of your little students when they open a birthday present, all excited and forgetful about the surroundings). 

You caress Bam behind his ear, amused by the stretch of Jungkook's lips as he glimpses inside the bag. "Yoongi-chi told me you always buy them—ahm, you know, the cashier at the supermarket during the morning shift. The man with small eyes who always seems on the verge of setting fire to the town," you explain before the crack of confusion crossing his face, nervously chuckling. 

He seems to zone out for a second, nodding soon after. "Oh, yeah… the guy who works at Min's restaurant." 

"Mhm, him! Ms Min is his mother. He gives her a hand every night."

Jungkook rests against the doorframe. "He's kind. He always give me some meat more." He lets out a giggle, tiny wrinkles appear close to the tip of his scrunched nose. 

"Yeah, he's very kind… just, don't tell him, ok? He's pretty affectionate to his tough facade." You let out a sigh when Jungkook's laugh floats in the air, melting away your apprehension. "Anyway… he said that you like rice cakes and—we didn't want to intrude, of course, it's just… you know, the town is small and everyone knows everything." Then, as if this could save face, you add, "These ones are more tasty. Our pastry shop is pretty renowned here… sure, it's also the only pastry shop we have, but you got what I meant."

He munches the corner of his mouth, amused. "It's ok. I like - like them a lot. Thanks." His eyes crinkled in the corners are two half-moons that don't match with the dim smile he's now giving you. 

You can't interpret it, but something in the way his feet are angled toward the side tells you that it's probably for the best to close curtains on this awkward bracket you opened by force and finally leave. 

You catch a breath. "Well, I leave you alone." You gently guide Bam's paws to the ground, stroking his head one last time. "Good night—"

"Stay…" Jungkook's voice wafts over you like a breeze that has the thin hair on your nape rising up. He seems to register what's just tumbled off his tongue -the way he said it; the deepness of his voice; his hand stretches toward you as if he had to grab you. He scratches his cheekbone. "I - I mean, you don't have to go away. I can - can offer you a tea or a beer—no, mom says I shouldn't offer beer, it's not nice," he mumbles, blushing. "We… can eat the rice cakes."

You smile. You prefer going back home. "No need to follow the rule of good neighbourliness, Jungkook-ssi."

He pauses, pats his hand on his own toned thigh to catch Bam's attention (for the record, you didn't look at his thigh long enough to actually realize that it's toned). "I'm not…" the left corner of his mouth quirks up. "I really want to eat rice cakes with you, (Y/N)." He gives you a little nod, like he wanted to emphasize his proposal more. 

Somewhere, deep down in the abyss of your chest, panic starts to brew. 

You can't stay. 

You've got so many things to do. You've to… to clean the kitchen. You've a basket full of clothes to fold and iron. And you've to… your thumb brushes over your wedding ring. You've to finish reading the myryad of books that Namjoon bought and didn't read. You twirl your ring around your finger. You've to sit on the veranda in the backyard and stargaze alongside Moonie.  You've to fix the bookshelf because it's so full of Namjoon's books that it practically curved down for the weight. You're about to pull out the ring, you push it back. 

You've to go back to your home, to your solitude...

But Jungkook opens the door wide and steps backward to let you walk in, waiting. And he's got this sheepish smile. He's got these bright eyes full of expectation...

You feel weak in your knees as you take the first step inside, heart plummeting in your stomach when the door closes behind your back. You take in a breath, a good scent of softener caresses your nostrils.

Ok. Now that you're here, you can't go back. Sure, you can come up with a random excuse about the oven left on; or that you can't leave Moonie all alone for too long; or that you're tired and you'd prefer going back home to rest… but you'd just end up humiliating him. You breathe in, ignoring the silly fluttering thing your heart is doing in your chest. You can stay for a very few minutes, accept a glass of water and then go away-!

"Oh…" Bam nuzzles the back of your knee before moving in front of you, standing up to rest his paws on your stomach, barking for some cuddles. "You really are affectionate, mh." You cup his muzzle, grazing it with your thumbs. "You said he's still a puppy?"

He nods. "He was so small when I brought it with me at home, a few months ago." He moves his hands to describe his size, the paper bag dangerously swings mid-air. "But Dobermans tend to grow up fast." He blinks twice, like a sudden thought just crossed his mind. "Did you leave Moonie at home?"

You avert his stare. "Yeah, he didn't want to go out." Moonie is laying down on the floor, right in front of the locked door of Joonie's studio. Waiting. 

You rotate your shoulders to get rid of shivers, taking a look around to distract yourself. The inside of old Kim's house is... different from the mental pictures you cherish in a corner of your mind, and this new scent of softener and paint clenches with the poignant stuffy smell you associate with this place. 

"We were pretty surprised when someone came to live here," you start, feeling his stare boring through your skin. "Are you related to the old Kim's, by chance?" 

He shakes his head, glancing around. "My best friend, Taehyung… he is their grandson." He proceeds toward the small coffee table, placing the paper bag on it. "I was going through a hard time lately and he told me to spend some time here to, like, clear my mind? He said the peacefulness here might be helpful."

"Is it helping you?"

He chuckles, his shoulder blades adhere to the shirt as he flexes his spine. "No, actually it isn't." He scratches the back of his nape, tip of his ears tinged with a reddish hue. 

You swallow back in your throat the knot of questions you'd like to ask him about his life; about the various twists and turns that lead him here; about that ounce of sadness that seems to tugs at the corner of his eyes if he mentions about his past… but you quieten down the feverish excitement in your head, convincing yourself that it's useless to get to know better someone who's going to leave soon and that you won't see anymore. 

"Did you furnish it?" You inquiry, taking off your shoes. 

Jungkook's eyes widen a little, a glint of gratitude floats into them for the sudden change of topic. "A bit, yeah. Taehyung told me to do what I want, but… you know, this isn't my home. I fear I might ruin it." He inhales sharply through his nose. "But I sent him some pictures and he likes how I painted the walls! He also mentioned about paying me but I don't think it's nice to take advantage of him." He flashes you a smile that reveals his front, bunny-like teeth.

You stare at the cream walls, at the paint cans tidily piled up on a cloth. "Last time we came here, there was a terrible wallpaper—ahm, don't tell your friend about the terrible wallpaper."

He sneers, placing his hand upon his chest. "I promise. This will be our little secret." He flickers two fingers in the air, a silent way to tell you to follow him to the living room. "Did you know Tae's grandparents?"

You're right behind me, paying attention to not bump into Bam, who scampers between the pair of you. "No. It was already inhabited when we moved here, three years ago." You wait for him to grab some magazines and comics scattered on the sofa to make some room for you. 

"We?" He puts them on a couch, up to some wrinkled hoodies. 

You lower your head to hide the curve of tenderness etching itself on your face. The mess in the room reminds you that Jungkook is a 23-year-old who wasn't waiting for any visitor (but it also reminds you Yoongi, dozens of shoes gathered at the entrance; it reminds you of Joonie's studio, all the notes randomly piled up on his desk; paintings he had to hang on the walls abandoned in the corner. Artistic people apparently love chaos). 

Your fingers run to caress your wedding ring. "Me and my husband." 

Jungkook gazes over you, stiffening. "Ah, yeah...  I noticed the ring." A thick silence follows his comment, and you expect him to come up with an excuse to make you leave. Instead, he turns toward you in a rush, goggle-eyed. "Wait… how old are you?!" 

"Thirtythree." This little number tumbles off your tongue with hesitation, leaves a bitter taste in the back of your throat -even though you can't explain why. You've never cared much about your age. It's just a number, it doesn't identify you. But being all alone with Jungkook, ten years younger than you… well, you start to care about it. 

"Thirtythree…" he mumbles. He doesn't seem… uncomfortable. Actually, there's a spark of excitement in his wide eyes that has your stomach twirling. "You look younger. I always - always thought we were around the same age." 

"Disappointed?" You ask, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

You expect a grin; a chuckle; something that would make you understand that he isn't taking this conversation with too much seriousness. But, despite every gloomy prediction, he delivers you this gentle smile that punches the breath out of you. "No. I've always liked older - older women." He chews on his bottom lip, sizing you up.

You swallow, avoiding his stare. Is he... flirting? Nah, he isn't. He can't. Imagine if he'd ever flirt with you -especially tonight, when you dressed up in the dark. And, anyway, you don't care about it!

"Ahm, anyway… Once, Moonie ran here to chase after a cat so we came here to pick him up. It was pretty… crumbling." You observe Bam nuzzling against Jungkook's side, searching for some attention. The boy shifts his hand behind his ear, stroking it. "You did a great job, really. It's more… cozy."

He inhales sharply through his nose, a proud set in his shoulders (you don't notice the line of his pecs adhering against the shirt, you don't). He pats Bam's head one last time before reaching the small kitchen, visible from your position. "You can sit. I'll be back in a minute."

As you contemplate his retracting figure, your mind drifts back home. You really have to go. You've so many things to take care of. It doesn't seem right to stay here, chatting with a boy ten years younger than you that you don't even know. But Jungkook opens the fridge to take a drink and from your position, you're able to notice all the packages of banana milk or chocolate milk disposed on the higher shelf, amidst bottles of water and beer. 

A burst of tenderness rips your chest apart. Jungkook looks like a rebel, an aloof and unapproachable guy who could mess up the quietness of the town; but it's just surface. You're sure there's so much more in him, if people would give him a chance...

"You must really love it…" you nod toward the packages of milk, smiley. 

The tip of his ears is red. "I do, since I was little. Mom was desperate, it was the only thing I drank." He giggles, glancing at you. "What would you like to drink? I'd offer you a beer, but it sounds bad?" He ruffles his mint hair, showing it back a couple of times with both hands. 

Namjoon offered you blueberry tea, the first time he invited you to his place. He broke a mug, taking them out from the cupboard. He gave you one chipped on the edge, apologizing for his clumsiness. You fell in love a little more with him. . 

"I… can't stay much. I've got, ahm, things to do…" you mumble, sinking in his eyes veiled with… disillusion. You catch a small breath, lips unfurling in a dim smile. "But a beer is ok."

The beer becomes two. 

You're still holding back, the alcohol isn't helping you to loosen up; but you're more chatty, and way more open to make a joke (still, you aren't tipsy enough to emulate one of Jin's awful puns yer -thank God). Jungkook, too, isn't giving in to drunkenness; his face is flushed, red spots are scattered along his neck, words fly out his mouth accompanied with giggles, but he's careful to not delve into conversations that could lead the pair of you to something more intimate. 

Both of you float on the surface making small talks, chatting about your dogs, how you educated them when they were two small puppies. He recounts about the nice people he met while wandering through the village, or the weird tourists he encountered while hiking on the mountain; you tell him about the hiking trails you used to cross, and other places he should visit while being here.

It's easy, it isn't demanding. 

Until Jungkook digs more into your acquaintance...

"So, you weren't born here." He's on the sofa with an arm resting on the backrest, one leg folded on the cushion, the other stretched over the edge. He keeps the bottle of beer on his thigh, there's a ring of water on the fabric. 

You mention your hometown, how you spent your days with your family there. Briefly, of course, omitting the embarrassing moments that still catch you off guard when your mental shields are down. Then...

"Then I came to Seoul to study, and I worked there for a few years after graduating. We moved here… three years ago." You stare at Bam, peacefully napping on a cushion at Jungkook's feet. "Joonie, ahm, my husband, he wanted to live in a quiet place. It's always been his dream…" you take a sip of beer, in a poor attempt to swipe away the bitter taste this brief anecdote leaves on the back of your throat. "He used to teach in a high school, and requested a transfer up here as soon as there was an available place. He teaches literature in the local high school." You bite your tongue, feeling like you've spilled way too much information. 

His stare widens, mouth hanging open like he couldn't keep at bay his surprise. "And you followed him?" 

You chuckle brightly after a moment of astonishment, you feel Jungkook's eyes slowly caressing the gentle stretch of your neck through his lashes (it's the beer, for sure). "Of course, I did! I couldn't leave my husband here alone while staying in Seoul."

He vigorously shakes his head, munching the corner of his mouth. "No - no, well—of course you couldn't. But, I mean…" he moves his hand in the air, hands flickering in the air as he is trying to collect his thoughts. "I mean, you had a job and… well, dreams? Did… did you really want to come here?" 

Your eyes shake a little before the curiosity dancing across his features. "We talked about it." You talked about it a lot. For days. For nights. Joonie never imposed his decision. He just touched upon his desire to move far away from the city… and you thought it might be a nice idea. 

He scrunches his nose and mouths a curse before lowering his head, brushing his tattooed hand on his forehead. "Sorry, it's not my business." He stretches to put the bottle on the coffee table. His hand lays on Bam's head to stroke it a couple of times before laying it on his lap. 

"I… had some dreams that made me decide to move to Seoul. But, as I grew, things started to change," you analyze, taking a closer look to those areas of yourself you stopped listening to many years ago. "I don't know, having a quiet life and a nice job seemed enough while I was growing up. They still are, actually." You sink in his somber stare for a brief moment, delivering him a dim smile. "Boring adult stuff, you know."

A little frown of disappointment cracks between his knitted brows. "I know what you're talking about." Judging by the firmness in his voice, he seems offended for being treated like a young boy who can't grasp your feelings and reasonings; and yet, that small pout does nothing but accentuate his juvenile attitude -which is a good thing, because it keeps you grounded. You think he'd come up with an excuse for you to go home, but instead he adds, "Don't you miss the city?"

"A bit… actually, I miss the friends I left there more." Hoseok is the only one you still talk to. Not as assiduously as you used to do before Joonie left you. The other people are just sporadic texts full of emoji sitting in your inbox, or seldom wishes during the holidays. Words bubble up in your throat when you meet his glance, feeling this urge to justify your presence here despite your young age. "I love staying here, anyway." 

He nods, thumb brushing over the gothic letterings scattered on his fingers. "This town is beautiful. And everything seems so… relaxed? Like time flew slowly…" he points his finger toward the window, the garden immersed in the dark tells you that you should go home. You don't move. "Every morning, I go running down to the mountains. Once I arrived at the beginning of a hiking trail and the scenery was so… breathtaking." Gentleness tugs at the corner of his mouth. "I get why you love living here."

You divert your stare, eyes crinkling in the corner. "Where do you live, instead?" You change the subject, hoping that he won't ask you further about the true reasons that keep you here. 

Jungkook stiffens, like he wasn't expecting you to question him about himself. "Busan," he says, vaguely, stare fixed to his toes. "Then I went to Seoul to study at Yonsei University."

"Oh, that's cool! And what are you studying?"

"I studied filmography." His voice gets weaker. "I dropped halfway through the year, though." He scratches his crimson ear, paying attention to not look at you straight at your face. There's a note of shame that tugs at your heart in a painful grip, like he already faced this conversation and feared you might judge his decision. 

You're surprised, indeed -but you always are when it comes to students abandoning their choices in the middle of their path -after all, you've spent many years side by side with Joonie, who was surrounded by talented students who broke his heart with their decision to give up. 

A million questions cross your mind. Why did he drop off? Was it too hard? Didn't he like it? Did he understand this wasn't what he wanted to do in his life? You extirpate them, though. Jungkook looks so small, squashed by the weight of the silence settled upon you.

"Will you go back to Busan, when you'll leave? Like, dunno, did you have a job there?"

Jungkook gazes back at you with shaky eyes filled with gratitude, corners of his mouth pulled up. "I had a few jobs here and there, after leaving college. You know, I don't like staying in the same place for too long. But before coming here, I was working in a supermarket close to home. You know, my parents hated to see me doing nothing all day. I - I mean, it's not like I was lazy or - or anything, but it's hard to be hired as an employee when you only finished high school and you have zero experience." He rubs the piercing on his brow. "I'll probably go back and search for a job. Or maybe I'll go back to studying. I'm still confused… Right now, I'm planning to go to Jeju with my best friends at the end of August. Then, we'll see…" he catches a breath. "What about you? Oh, that's so dumb, you work at Min's restaurant." He slaps a hand on his forehead, giggling. 

"That. But I'm an elementary school teacher, actually." Tenderness shapes your lips, as all the memories shared with your littles ones echo back to mind. 

He frowns. "I thought… so, the job at the restaurant is a front?" He asks, amused. And confused. 

"It's a… diversion? Sort of…" you avoid his stare brimmed with confusion, staring at your wedding ring. "I… I've been through a rough time lately, and Ms Min suggested I could work for her. You know… to keep my mind busy." You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling the area around your eyes swell up. "She can't afford to pay me, but I don't mind. They've been all so nice to me, I like helping them…"

Jungkook looks at you, intensely, as if he'd like to open your skull to understand why you're working for free. Then, his stare lays on Bam, who perked his ears up for some dogs barking in the distance. "It must be nice, knowing anyone, being here for one another…" he slowly glances at the Marvel clock that reads 11:00 PM, then his attention drifts to your ring. "Won't your husband be worried about you being out till late?"

There's no judgement in his voice, nor he seems bored by your presence here. Actually, there's a light vibration that you can't catch -but it makes you want to run back home. 

"He… doesn't live here anymore, don't worry." Your muscles tense all at once, pain squeezes your heart. 

"How—" his eyes grow bigger. "Ah, I'm sorry. I'm deeply sorry, I—" his hand runs to squeeze the tattooed arm. "I know how it feels when you divorce—I mean, not - not personally. Jimin's parents did, ahm, my childhood friend. It was… awful. And sad." He scratches his red cheekbone. "I'm sorry, Noona…"

Divorce...

It's quite convenient that Jungkook interpreted things in his own way. You should tell him the truth, though. You don't. 

"We… didn't exactly divorce. It's complicated." You deliver him a smile that doesnt the reach your eyes. "I'm fine, though. It's been half a year now, I'm getting used to it."

You aren't...

You suddenly feel the urge to leave this place -Jungkook. You already shared too much with a stranger; and what's worse, a weak voice begs you to talk to him a little more. You can't give to the vulnerable part of you. You can't. "But it's quite late, anyway. It's better if I go—"

Jungkook shifts on his spot, stretches forward as if he'd like to stop you. "(Y/N), I'm sorry, I—I didn't want to—"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Jungkook-ssi, it's ok." You stand up, putting the beer on the small coffee table. "It's just… it's late, and Moonid isn't used to staying alone for so long." You brush your hands along your sides, noticing Bam staring at you. "Hey, you… we woke you up?" You crouch down to caress him under his ears, smiling for his eyes shining bright.

Jungkook stays still, you notice the muscles in his legs flexing for your proximity. But still, he doesn't move. You refrain yourself from looking up, aware that the first thing you'd see would be his crotch, considering his position. 

You exhale a chuckle when the dog nuzzles your palm. "Ok, now I really have to go." You stand up, feeling uncomfortable for Jungkook's stare -for suddenly remembering that there's a ten years gap between the pair of you. "Thanks for the beer. Ahm, good night." You approach the door and put back on your shoes before Jungkook could actually stand up and accompany you to the entrance. 

"Thank you for coming here!" His voice wafts over you in a gentle hum, it makes you stay on the doorframe with a foot already outside. "We… should do it again, Noona. It was a lot of fun." There's a soft smile dancing across his features when you gaze over your shoulder and Jungkook seems so manly… and so young. 

He's over there, standing, broad shoulders and thick thighs and toned legs and strong arms… and fingers clenching around the hem of his shirt; and sadness pulling down his brows; and expectation floating in his doe eyes…

The urge to tell him that you don't want this to grow into something deeper that could plant roots in your routine swells on your tongue… but Jungkook is delicate and his eyes shine brighter than the stars covering the nocturnal sky.

You nod. And smile. And say, "See you soon, Jungkook-ssi." 

You don't want to shatter that small beauty that is Jungkook's peacefulness. 

"But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind, and upon the waters, until they found me"

Mornings are the hardest part of the day.

The second you crack your eyes open, reality cascades upon you like a bucket of icy water. It drenches your muscles and bones, until they calcify. Weighs upon your chest so hard it's difficult to get up, to breathe (to live). Some mornings, you just want to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Some mornings, you wonder why certain people go, and why certain people stay. Some mornings just don't make sense at all.

Some mornings, it feels like Namjoon is still here, beside you. With his tired smiles; his eyes shaped with love; his whole soul shining and making your life a bit brighter… and those times, days make much more sense -to the point that you fear that just one wrong movement could make you forget about him. 

If it wasn't for Moonie, who reminds you that you still have to take care of another being and not just yourself, you'd give in to your sad, penetrating thoughts. 

However, there are times in which you feel the urge to get off your bed and gulp all the fresh air your lungs can take. 

Today, it's one of those days. 

  You slowly open your eyes, feeling the warmth of the sunlight kissing your skin. Before you, a pristine lawn unfurls itself in an ocean of green that meets the light blue of the sky, surrounded by a blanket of mountains that touch the clouds. 

You often used to spend your free time in this wide valley, resting against the giant tree that naturally signs the vicinity of the first expert hiking itineraries. It's a thirty minutes walk from the beginning of the path, but the beautiful view is worth the foot-ache. You're glad to see that in all those months of absence, nothing changed. 

You gaze down when Moonie stretches toward you, mouth open and tongue sticking out. You pat a hand on your thigh, inviting him to use you like a cushion. He rests his head upon your lap, big round eyes fixed on the thick layer of trees in the distance. 

"You missed coming here too, mh?" You graze the top of his head, resting comfortably against the tree. 

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath of air, stretching your arms. Talking with Jungkook about all the wonderful sightseeings he's discovering every day, and that made you fall in love with this town, reminded you how much you enjoyed waking up at 6:00 AM to take a stroll around on your own, letting Namjoon sleep. 

It was one of the rare moments in which you could finally be yourself -just (Y/N), not Kim Namjoon's wife or the "school teacher".

Also… and this is really hard to metabolize, but you felt too excited to lay in your bed. Since the night of small-talks you shared with Jungkook a couple of days ago, adrenaline has been brewing in your veins, preventing you from focusing on your routine as you used to do. 

You inhale sharply through your nose, the air is so fresh you feel your chest swelling up. Moonie wiggles out of your feeble embrace, perking his head up as he pins his round eyes to the horizon across from him. You pay little attention to his behaviour, certain that a wild animal or a tourist caught his attention. Your eyelids flutter up when he starts barking, though, mostly to make sure that he doesn't start dashing toward whatever disturbed your quietness. 

Scrunching your nose, you follow the trajectory of his stare, espying a figure standing still at a few meters from you. From that position, it's hard to pinpoint who that person might be -a tourist? One of your neighbors? A maniac? For sure, he's gazing back at you, and anxiety rings in your head like an alarm bell. 

You're about to stand up and walk away when the stranger starts swinging an arm in the air like a flag. "Hello, Noona!" The person shouts. 

And with just one greeting, you understand that he isn't a random tourist (or a creep). 

"Jungkook…" his name flies out your mouth in a soft whisper, brought to surface by a stab in your ribcage. It's impossible for him to hear your feeble voice from that distance and in fact, he doesn't dare to approach you. He's… respectful, somehow. Respectful of the natural distance between two strangers. Respectful of the years of void that float in between like a silent ghost. 

Now… a greeting doesn't mean anything. If you pay him back in kindness, it's not like Jungkook will step into your life like a hurricane; and yet, a sense of discomfort sets in your lungs, while a faint voice tells you to not give in to the curiosity that inevitably drags you toward him. 

Maybe you should listen to this thin voice and ignore him. You could pretend you didn't see him and wait for him to go away. If you act like you don't care about his existence, Jungkook would surely stop gravitating toward you.

However, a cold sensation cripples up your heart at the mere thought of treating him so… harshly. 

So, you raise up your arm, waving at him -way more mildly than his own gesture. 

It's probably the sign Jungkook needed to come closer because soon after, he starts running toward you. You try to stay calm, but when he finally steps in a clear field of view, you can admire his body wrapped in shorts and a tight t-shirt that emphasize way too perfectly the well-defined lines and muscles hidden under various layers of fabric (oh God, may your quivering heart survive). 

He slows down, halting himself at a few steps from you, bending on his knees to catch some big gulps of air (his thighs flex for the effort to sustain him, your fingers hitch for tracing every groove). His hair, pulled back by a hairband, falls over in damp waves, framing his face red for the run. He straightens himself, tilts the head back to catch another deep breath, ruby spots tinge his neck and you… really, you try all your best to not gawk at the contour of his pronounced pecs, or at the soft bow of his crotch. But he's standing there, with his hands on his hips, the lower part of his body stretched in your direction, and you can only contemplate him in all his glorious beauty… 

(This is all Yoongi's fault! Ms Min told him that Jin's mother told her that she saw you getting out of Jungkook's house the other night… which can only be translated as: the beginning of the end of your peacefulness. From that revelation, your friend never stopped to butter your conversations with random questions about the size of his dick; if he's good at using it; if you're going to treat your relationship seriously or you're going to let it drop before emotions could grow; or lavishing wise speeches like: "Remember, (Y/N), size isn't important. It's important how you use it". You hate him.)

"Good… morning… Noona," he greets between long sips of breath, tapping the back of his hand on his face to wash away the sweat. 

Thankfully, the suffix tumbling off his tongue reminds you that you're older than him, a ten-year gap that makes guilt tarnish every fiber of your being for indulging in a shameless contemplation of a boy and his young body. 

"Jungkook-ssi, hey. Are you out for your morning run?" You avert his stare, hoping he didn't catch you staring. "You should take advantage of your holiday and sleep a bit more." You graze Moonie under his chin. 

He takes off the hairbend, racks his fingers through his hair to separate it from the roots. "I mainly do it out of habit. I used to run every early morning back in college. I used to do boxing." He shoves the mint locks back with both hands, sweat keeps them glued to the top of his head. "And I - I tried to come late in the afternoon once, but it's packed with - with tourists. I prefer not meeting people." He scrutinizes the hairband with a little scrunch in his nose before putting it back on, the bits of hair that don't fit fall over his forehead. 

You giggle. "Ops, I ruined your peace, then."

His eyes grow wider at your playful comment, head shaking vigorously and hands fluttering in the air. "No, no, no! I wasn't talking about you! It's always nice - nice to meet you, Noona." He swallows thickly, twiddling with his eyebrow piercing. It feels like he's fighting against himself toward something you can't grasp. Then, he seems to give in, eyes shaking when they meet your own. "I… I wanted to visit you. You know, to thank you for treating me so nicely, but… but I don't think it's appropriate." His stare lays upon your wedding ring, a muscle twitches in his jaw. "You know, people here don't look kindly on me. I don't want to put - put you into trouble with them or, ahm, your husband."

The gentleness in his voice and actions makes an earthquake of tenderness explode in your guts. His respect toward you and your needs as a person (not just as someone older than him) is a force that pulls you toward him. Inevitably, like the sun surely will rise to the East. 

You swallow, thumb brushing on your ring. "Don't worry. I don't care about what others think." You avoid his stare, unable to camouflage the discomfort dancing across his features. "You can come when you want, Jungkook-ssi." You reassure him, aware that this is the usual, casual thing you say out of education -not with the real intent for it to happen. 

It's like… you know, when you meet an old acquaintance and you exchange the usual small talk and then you say: "Hey, we should meet up for a drink" aware that none of you will actually call to plan a meeting. And, pff… a twenty-three-year-old boy would never knock at your door for a coffee or a drink. Jungkook will probably prefer hanging out with people his age...

Your words seem to hearten him a little. A smile blooms on his rosy lips, his posture straightens. He lets out a long breath that he was holding up to now, darting you this look full of gratitude that makes goosebump dance along your skin.

"Hi, Moonie!" Jungkook crouches down, hands immediately cupping his muzzle, lips curling to click his tongue. 

You briefly stare at his thick thighs, muscles flexing as he adjusts his position while resting on his calves (you wonder how it'd feel to seat on them. Of course, it's just a thought, not something you'd like to do, mh). "Is Bam at home?" You ask, mainly to distract yourself from the (dangerous) exposed areas of his body.  

He nods, looking attentively at your dog. "Yeah, I prefer running without him. I - I mean, geez, I sound so awful." He giggles, slapping a hand on his face. "Ahm, the fact is… he usually chases after animals and I fear he might - might get lost. Like, I run pretty fast, but he runs faster." He scratches the back of his ear, twiddling with a dangling piercing. "I already got lost twice, when I went hiking. I wouldn't survive if something happened to him." He sits down on the grass, legs spread for Moonie to stretch out and use his lap as a cushion. Your dog lays on his legs, mouth open and tongue sticking out.  

"It happened to us too, at the beginning. You know, when you're bold and you believe you can remember the path." You stare at his tattooed hand, caressing Moonie's back. "You shouldn't go by yourself. It's dangerous."

He tilts his head to boths sides, bones cracking in the process. "I still haven't found a worthy hiking buddy." He grins, his amused stare engulfing into yours. "Do you come here often?"

"Not much." You twiddle with the folds of your long skirt. "I used to come here pretty often, actually. Then, I stopped…" 

Jungkook looks at you like someone who'd like to submerge you with a tons of questions. Thankfully, he doesn't give in to his curiosity. "And what do you like to do here?"

You pause. Then, "Nothing."

His brows snap together. "Nothing…"

You chuckle. "Yes, nothing. I just stay here napping, or reading. I sometimes play with Moonie." You tuck some hair behind your ear. "As you can see, I'm not very interesting." Feeling his skeptic stare boring through your skin, you suddenly feel the anxiety drooling away from your bones: showing this facet of yourself (the boring one; that side of you that only a very few people accept without judgements) might be the right way to keep him at a distance. 

You've this uncontrollable urge to push him away from you..

But Jungkook doesn't seem to care. He scrutinizes you, hard and long. "You're... calm." A soft smile etches itself on his face, like a flower gently opening to the first rays of sun. "You're matching with this beautiful place." He waits for a follow-up that doesn't come, shoulders crossed by shivers. 

You part your lips but not a sound escapes from them. Your brain is in total black-out. His gentle boldness catches you off guard and you don't know how to react. Is he serious? Is he playing? Is he flirting? 

His eyes crinkle in the corner before your muteness. A glint of sadness streams in his shaky eyes before he drifts his attention to Moonie, almost asleep due to his soft touch. "Well, I really need to go now. Bam doesn't like staying alone for too - too long." He carefully pulls your dog away, paying attention to not hurt him. He strokes the top of his head one last time before standing up, cleaning the back of his shorts. "It was nice to talk to you again, Noona." He bows a little, a vibrant flush spreads to the tip of his ears. "See you."

You greet him with a gesture of your hand, speechless.

You ignore the rhythmic tum tum tum produced by your heart; the goosebumps dancing along your skin. 

It's the morning cold fault. It must be. 

“You shatter my sleep All milk-need and petal lips. You smile, and I melt”

You don't expect to see Jungkook again anytime soon. 

Of course, you expect to run into him from time to time -during a walk; as you take Moonie out; while grocery shopping; at Min's restaurant; while you're taking care of your garden. There's nothing to be surprised about: the town is small, the chances to meet randomly are too high to pretend you won't meet him anymore. 

What is certain is that you don't expect him to actively cross the street and knock at your door, on a chill Tuesday night, a few minutes after dinner. 

Like a figment of your imagination that could vanish with a blink of an eye, Jungkook stands on your doormat -with a sheepish smile adorning his face, and a box in his free hand (the other holds Bam by the collar, preventing him to jump at you the moment you opened).

A mild queasiness brews in your stomach when you meet his shiny eyes -the same type of nausea that bubbles up in your throat when you step out of your home lately, hit by the realization that your lives might intertwine again. 

This thick anxiety that cripples up your heart catapults you back to the first time you took a plane to fly to Seoul, all alone, scared to death about the idea of not surviving; to the first time Joonie looked different in your eyes and you understood that your heart would beat differently only for him; to your wedding day and the gloomy conviction that you were too young to take that step; to the day you moved here, abandoning your comfort zone, jumping into an the unknown future ahead of you...

You thought you wouldn't feel like this anymore… at the mercy of your own emotions.

(At the mercy of a boy who looks at you like you were an aurora borealis made of flesh and bones…)

Your first reaction is to close the door on his nose and fly away from this place. Or you can pretend to be sick (and, like, fake your death, too). A weak voice inside of you suggests you to be direct and tell him to stop with all of this, pushing him away. 

But then, his voice wafts over you, and your heartbeat throbs in every inch of you, squelching every other sound.

"Good afternoon, Noona. Sorry for - for the late hour. I don't want to bother you." He bows a little, a single curl of mint hair falls over his forehead. "I went to buy some things this morning and I thought to bring you something. To thank you for your kindness." His features soften, cheekbones tinged with a light pink shade. "You've always been so - so gentle to me…"

You swallow. His gesture warms you. The awareness that he doesn't feel welcomed here hits you like a bucket of icy water.

"You… you didn't have to." Your fingers accidentally graze the back of his hand when he hands you out the box (goosebump kisses your skin, glides up to the back of your nape, you shiver like winter just exploded all around you.) "Thank you, really."

Jungkook hesitates, brushes his hands along his harem pants. He sometimes gazes over your shoulders, almost anticipating the appearance of someone else wandering throughout your house that could explain your docility, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. 

"Well…" he snorts a nervous chuckle, probably hit by the silence you're giving him back. "Ahm, just this. A little present, mh." His smile quivers a little, shoulders hunching over. "I leave you to your things, then. Good night—"

"Wait!"

Your heart thumps in your throat when you register your own voice lingering in the air, a high pitched request that makes him stiffen on his spot. 

"Jungkook-ssi, you can stay." You swallow, giving him a poor attempt of an encouraging smile. Noticing his hesitation, you shuffle backward, opening the door wide to let him walk in. "Stay, really. It's ok. I wasn't doing anything special." You spare a quick glance to your shabby outfit, feeling pretty embarrassed for your appearance. 

But Jungkook doesn't seem to mind what you're wearing -probably because you never judged him for the way he takes care of his own body. 

He catches a small breath before nodding. "Thanks…" he brushes past you, the good scent of softener makes you weak in your knees. You move aside as he takes off his sandals, disposing them neatly next to your gym shoes. 

"I - I hope you don't mind, but I asked for advice from Yoongi hyung since I don't - don't know your taste." He scratches the back of his red ear. "Sorry, I should've minded my own business. But he saw me pretty indecisive and—"

You chuckle. "Don't worry, Yoongi pretends to not care but he's the first to stick his nose into our affairs. In a good way, of course." You grin, picturing him sitting behind the counter all grumpy and mopey. "I wouldn't be surprised if he told you, dunno, my favorite type of condoms." You try a poor attempt of a joke to make him feel at ease, which makes you feel pretty stupid -especially for the sudden awkwardness that embraced him. Until your brain starts to get in motion, making you realize the real reason behind his embarrassment. "Oh, no… he didn't—"

"I - I didn't take him seriously!" He interrupts, shaking his hands. "I was buying them and-I mean, it's not like I have someone or anything. It's just a precaution, you know, in case I meet someone I like and—" words fade in a squelched grunt, he pokes the tip of his tongue on his cheek. "There's no - no one…"

Breath sticks in your throat. You don't know why he felt the urge to clarify it. After all, despite the brief encounters you shared, you're two strangers, and Jungkook can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants without making you part of his experiences.

"I don't care, Jungkook-ssi." You shrug, noticing the clench in his jaw. "It's your life, you don't have to tell me anything. And don't mind Yoongi-chi, he was just teasing you." You curl your fingers around the box, the light scrunch sound reminds you why he decided to show up here in the first place. "Ahm, what can I offer you? Is wine ok?" 

He nods, following you in the living room -well, Bam drags him into the living room as soon as he glimpses at Moonie, peacefully resting in front of the door of Namjoon's studio. "Bam, aish… let him alone."

"Don't worry, I think he likes his company," you comment, watching his dog rotates on his own spot before resting close to your pet, barking for attention. "You can sit there." You nod toward the small coffee table before grabbing a pair of glasses from the cupboard.

Jungkook follows your guidelines, plopping down on the seat that permits him to keep an eye on Bam. "Are you an expert of wine?" He asks, catching sight of the various bottles disposed on a shelf. 

"Not much. I just like drinking it." The tip of your ears reddens when Jungkook exhales a giggle (it gets prettier each passing day). "Seokjin does, though. He always brings some wine when he comes here—ahm, he's a friend. You already saw him, the younger cook at Min's restaurant," you specify, noticing the expression of confusion dawning on his face. 

He twiddles with his eyebrow piercing, eyes growing big. "Oh, yes. The most beautiful man in town."

You roll your eyes. "Yes, people tend to exaggerate when they talk about him."

"Actually, he introduced himself by saying this."

You let out a bright chuckle, imagining your friend introducing himself in this silly manner -there's a proud set in his shoulders when you turn to him. "Jin too tends to exaggerate when he talks about himself." You approach the table, placing the glasses in the center. You pour some wine into them, burgundy drops fall on the table already stained. 

Jungkook grabs his glass, giving you a little nod to thank you. He takes a sip, nose scrunching and tongue clicking for the bitter taste. 

You sit across from him, eyes pinned to the two dogs peacefully resting at a few steps from you, fingers twiddling with a lock of air escaping from the sloppy tail you wore before cleaning the dishes. 

You open the box he bought you, admiring the Bungeoppang perfectly aligned in it. "Mh, I adore them! Thank you!" You grab one, taking a bite. 

Jungkook giggles. "Thanks to Yoongi hyung, actually." 

A thick silence settles itself between the pair of you, preventing you from starting a conversation. You deliver a sheepish smile to each other before taking a sip of wine to keep yourselves busy. You'd like to submerge him with a lot of questions about the life he left behind in Busan or Seoul; about the many small things that crafted him into the boy he is today. But you don't know how much you can delve into his past, nor do you know which buttons you can push without making him feel uneasy.

Thankfully, while taking a look around the room, his attention drifts to a couple of photographs placed on the table between the couch and the sofa (one portraying you along with Yoongi and Seokjin, not posing, just laughing for something that Namjoon did, before he took this shot; the other picturing you and your little ones, in your classroom during the celebration of Children's day). 

He stretches a little to give it a closer look. "Are they your students?" 

You swallow the last chop of pastry, nodding. "I'll miss them a lot. They're going to start middle school after the holiday." Nostalgia tugs at the corners of your lips as you remember the last day you spent together. "But I'm excited to meet new kids. It's nice to teach them English, seeing them learn day by day…"

"Oh, English…" he mumbles, gazing at you. "I'd have learned it much more willingly if you had been my teacher." He runs the tip of his tongue on his lip piercing, his intense stare sets your guts on fire. "They look… happy. I'll bet they'll have a good memory of you. I still cherish my old elementary teacher. He was - was kind even when I made silly mistakes."

"I don't know. I hope so?" You chuckle, gazing at their bright faces. "Nobody complained until now. And they're always so nice when I meet them. To think that I didn't particularly like children when I was younger." You feel his stare boring through your skin, as if he'd like to question you about yourself a little more -like, why you don’t have any photograph of your husband; or why you don't have children; if you actually planned to have one. 

But Jungkook doesn't press you further. He stays quiet, eyes crinkling in the corner and a delicate smile that has your heart liquefying, and you don't know how to keep alive the conversation (you thought you two would never meet anymore and now he is here, drinking wine, plaguing your house with his good softener scent that makes you want to hide your face in the crook of his neck -titillating some fantasies that make you want to bury yourself in a hole). 

You gulp down some wine, fumbling for words. "So… are you excited to go to Jeju?"

Jungkook blinks twice. He probably didn't expect you to talk about him (or to remember something about him). "Ah, yes. I only went there once with my brother, a few years ago. So I'm pretty excited. Taehyung is already mapping out an itinerary, I won't have a minute to breathe." He gulps down the drink to the last drop (you notice his habit to clench the free hand into a fists. Adorable). "But Jeju means that I've to go back to Busan, too."

You study his small pout. "You don't sound very happy." 

"I am. I've my friends there, after all. It's just, my parents... I - I get along with them, but..." he hesitates, his hand runs to stroke the tattooed arm. "I think... I disappointed them. You know, for dropping out of college, for many of my choices…" he glimpses at the ink branching along his skin, the left corner of his mouth shaped with bitterness. "I, you know… I feel like they were expecting great things from me, and I'm not doing anything good." He lets out a chuckle, scratching his undercut.

Your heart crumbles for his genuine confession. You weren't expecting him to reveal this vulnerable aspect of his life -to actually show you his discomfort; and you don't know how to react. If he were Jin, you'd hug him tight; if he were Yoongi, you'd grab his hand; if he were Joonie, you'd hug him from behind.

But Jungkook is a stranger… How do you warm the heart of a person you know little about?

"I… I'm sorry they are making you feel like this," you manage to say, aware that your comment is completely useless. "Do you regret giving up?"

He tilts his head to the side. "Sometimes… other times, though, I think that I made the best decision for myself." He rests his hands on his chest. "I never told this to not make them worry, but I woke up in the middle of the night in a panic, in the last months. I kept wondering: what am I doing? Am I wasting time? What if this isn't the best thing for me?" He ruffles his hair, eyes shining wetly. "Now, instead, I wake up in the middle of the night because I feel like I'm wasting time, too. Like… all my friends are building something, they know what they want for their lives… while I'm still searching for my place in the world." He presses the thumb and pointer on the bridge of his nose. "Forgive me, I look like a lost child. You're probably used to talking about more mature topics."

You snort a laugh. "Are you joking? Me and my friends might be in our thirties, but we still don't know what to do with our lives either." 

Jin isn't ready for love and does nothing to move away from this place; Yoongi is too scared about love and does nothing to make his dream to become a producer come true; you keep all your ghosts close to you and do nothing to move on… she doesn't mean anything. Age is just a number. You can grow up physically, but certain things rooted into you don't change overtime. 

You give him a reassuring smile. "Namjoon had your same problem. He wanted to give up, and went through a huge crisis for a few months." You stare at Moonie, who's letting Bam use his back as a cushion. "It's far more common than you think."

"Then?"

"Then, he understood what he wanted to do, and he went back to studying. Many of his students went through the same phase and his advice was to stop and take their time. Just this." You deliver him a reassuring smile. "You'll see you'll understand what's best for you, sooner or later. Just… don't pressure yourself. Or you'll risk doing something that will make you unhappy."

"I hope so… people think I'm too lazy." His bottom lip juts out in a pout. "Your husband seems such a nice person."

"He is…" you mumble, drinking some wine to replace the bitter taste of your words. You vaguely stare at a spot magically appeared on the table, spacing out. 

Jungkook stares at you, delicately. "I... don't know if you broke up on bad terms or not, but I hope you and your husband can clear things up. It feels like… you've some kind of unsolved matter." He curses under his breath when you gaze up at him, clenched jaw and shaky eyes. "Sorry, it's not my business."

You shrug. "It's ok. It's just that everyone knows everything here, so I'm not used to talking about him anymore." 

You avoid talking about him, actually. Yoongi and Seokjin and Hoseok repeat to you that disclosing your thoughts about Namjoon would help you to move on with your life. That venting out would make you feel lighter. And you don't know, you don't know it will actually work… there's just a weight upon your chest whenever your mind echoes back to him, and you're pretty sure it will never go away. 

You're sure that nobody will be able to move it (him) aside...

Jungkook casts a glance upon your ring. "I didn't - didn't ask anything around. Mom says it's not nice." He moistens his lips. "I prefer to hear things from you."

You swallow. "You can ask me all that you want."

The boy hesitates, searching for any trace of doubt across your face -something that could tell him that you don't mean what you've just said. 

He inhales sharply through his nose, voice low. "How long have you been married?" 

Your thumb brushes upon your ring. "Seven years."

Surprise floats in his big eyes. "Oh… that's a very long - long time…" he chokes on his wine. "Wait! You - you were my age!"

"Almost. I got married as soon as I finished college. He was already teaching in a middle school, he is two years older than me." 

His eyelids flicker fast, lips curled. "I… I'd never see myself married. Fuck…"

You burst out laughing (Jungkook stiffens. An intense ruby hue colors his cheekbones). "No, sorry… it's just—" you rest a hand on your stomach, crossed by painful spasms. "You don't look like someone who curses." 

He puffs his cheeks, mumbling behind the edge of the glass. "I curse. Sometimes."

You moisten your lips, cleaning the tears shining at the corner of your eyes. "You seem so… rude. But you're very gentle, actually." You didn't use a coquettish voice, nor did you make any malicious gestures.

And yet, Jungkook reacts like you've just flirted with him. He runs the tip of his tongue on his bottom lip, chewing on the piercing in the corner. "Would you prefer me to be ruder?" He inhales sharply through his nose, straightening his posture. 

You swallow. The alcohol in your system makes you see things you usually wouldn't notice with so much care -like, the well-defined lines of his pecs; the imperceptible softness of his nipples against the cotton fabric of the shirt. 

Jungkook has the breah punching out of you…

"No…" you mumble, sinking in his eyes full of galaxies. "You're great as you are."

  After two glasses of wine, Jungkook gets closer. He moves from his spot to the side across from the sofa to use it as a backrest. 

Third glass, you move closer. With the excuse to watch some pictures laying on his phone, you sat beside him -but still distant enough to not touch him.

Fourth glass, Jungkook angles his torso in your direction, the arms folded on the sofa to use them as a pillow -the tip of his shoe nits the leg of the table, adorable (slurry) apologies drool from his lips bouncing upon giggles. 

Fifth glass, you imitate his position, your knee accidentally hits his own (and he apologizes for you. Still, he doesn't inch away). You look at him through your lashes, drinking whatever his soft voice says...

He recounts about his friends; the hectic life in Busan, in Seoul. You tell him tales of your hometown, the little students you saw grow up in the past years. He talks about Taehyung, how they met in college due to a series of odd events; he talks about Jimin, how they used to play through the streets of Busan when they were little kids. You talk about Hoseok, the first person who treated you kindly when you arrived in Seoul; about Jin and Yoongi and how you became inseparable since you've moved here (you don't about Namjoon). 

Nothing too intimate, anecdotes that make your throat vibrate for the laughter that scrunch your face up and make your jaw hurt for the effort. 

Jungkook's eyes are tired and shiny; and yet, he keeps looking at you as if the things you're saying were worth the time spent together. 

These ten years between you two blend into something vague, almost… forgettable. 

"I'm so used to living here by now, I don't know if I could go back to the chaos of the city." You brush some hair away from your face (you notice Jungkook's fingers twitch, like he was on the cusp of doing it). "If I look back, I can't believe how much I changed. You know? I was always partying. Beer busts, discos, high heels, dresses, lots of boys…"

"Oh… It's a pity, being born a few years too late." Jungkook smirks, red cheek pressing on his arm. "Probably, when you were dancing to The Rhythm of the Night?, I was playing Minecraft. Or sleeping."

You laugh, too tipsy to care about the malicious curve of his lips, about his stare lingering upon the bow of your chest. 

"Did you meet your husband there? During a party?"

The area around your eyes swell up, your smile flips off your face -Jungkook stares intensely at your change of reaction, as if he wanted to open your skull to catch your train of thoughts. 

"No… he's never been a party boy. He loves calm activities… visiting museums, or new cities." The corners of your mouth pull up, imperceptibly. "I fell for him first and I was so scared because we were so different, so…" you swallow the wobble in your voice. "Namjoon is the quietness I tended to reject." You lost contact with Jungkook's eyes, you're probably boring him. "Anyway, Hoseok invited us to his birthday party. We met there…"

Namjoon's figure flashes in the back of your mind. His smile in the dim-lit room; his eyes crinkling in the corner; his round glasses gliding on the bridge of his nose; his polite way to help you searching for the right words when you couldn't talk in Korean properly; his stuttered apologies when he clumsily spilled his drink on your new dress… 

You shudder. You suddenly feel the urge to stay alone. 

"What about you?" You change the topic, unable to bear the memories of Namjoon cascading in your mind. "Did you leave a special one back at home?"

Jungkook hesitates, opens his mouth but closes it shortly after. He shifts his attention to Bam curled up against Moonie, peacefully napping. "Many girls. No one in particular."

"Uh, so it's true when they say you're dangerous." You take his confession lightheartedly, noticing his discomfort. "A heartbreaker came to town. Better not tell it to anyone, or they'll come to your house with pitchforks and torches." 

He lets out a bright chuckle, hides his face in the crook of his arms. "No, I mean… I had a few stories, but nothing worth mentioning. You know, classmates, friends of friends, girls I met during the parties after my boxing matches, blind dates… but I get bored easily, I just wanna have fun. And girls my age are so… dreary." He chews on his bottom lip, the euphoria replaced by a somber expression. "Great… I just ruined my only chance to demonstrate that I'm a serious guy."

"Don't worry, it's ok."

"No, it's not. I sounded like I'm an asshole, but I'm not. I'm not..." he turns to you, slowly, like he feared you might judge him for his hectic sexual life." 

You rest your head better on your arms, smiling softly. "You're young." Then you think that Jin is thirty-six and he lives on flings and is absolutely against serious relationships (he never said it out loud, but you can see the relief on his face for being single when your affection for Namjoon smothers you). "You probably didn't find the right one." Your eyelids flicker down in the slightest, you're quite tired. "Maybe when you go to Busan. Or Jeju."

"Maybe she's in a small town." His voice drops two notches deeper, it makes shivers travel down your spine. Jungkook curls his fingers around the fabric of the cushion, swallowing thickly. "What are you doing tomorrow morning?"

You've to fight against your sadness in order to get out of bed. You've to find the strength to put up the usual mask of peacefulness to not worry your friends. You've to water Joonie's bonsais. You've to read one of the books Namjoon bought and never started. You've to take Moonie out... 

"Things..." You mumble, in a barely whispered hush. 

The sparks in Jungkook's eyes tremble a little. "Things…"

"Yes, ahm... I've got some things to do. You know, the chaotic mountain life." You snort a chuckle, panic gnaws at your throat. You want him to go back home. You want to stay alone. "Why?"

Jungkook hides a yawn in the crook of his arm, hesitates. "I thought a lot about what you said the other day, that I shouldn't go hiking all alone. So, I was thinking… why don't you join me?" He diverts his stare, staring at Bam. "Or we can take our dogs out for a walk. Bam likes Moonie. And he likes you. And I do too, I mean—" he brushes his face against his arm, chuckling. "You know what I mean." 

You should say no. Because you've many things to do. Because you aren't interested in his proposal. Because you want to stay on the surface of your acquaintance, but if you start going out together, you risk things will grow. Because—

"I'm… out of shape. I stopped hiking." 

Namjoon loves hiking. He laughs because you get tired easily and have to stop halfway. His hand holding yours. His soft smile when you use his lap like a pillow, laying under a tree. You don't go hiking anymore. 

"We can take an easy path. I'm no expert either." Jungkook's hand moves closer to yours, beyond the sparks in your eyes his smile shines bright. "It'd be nice… to spend some time together."

No, it wouldn't. It wouldn't. It's a bad idea. It wouldn't—

"Ok…" your voice flies out above a whisper. "Yeah, ok."

Jungkook lifts his head up, hair falling over his forehead. "Ok, yeah, great!" He lets out a giggle, scratching his nape. "It's better - better if I go, then, or I'll risk not waking up." He stretches his arms, the shirt lifts up a bit to reveal his belly (you notice the thin hair disappearing under the elastic of the harem pants. Your face heats up). "Bam, let's go." He whistles to call his attention. 

Bam looks at him for a while before standing up, stretching and yawning. You stare at Moonie, ears perked up for the sudden movements in the room. 

Your heart feverishly throbs in your throat. Maybe this hiking thing comes at the perfect timing: it could be a good occasion for him to realize that you're boring -so this thing between you two will end before it even starts. 

You press your palm on the cushion of the sofa to stand up, but the numbness in your legs mixed with the wine makes you trip on your own feet. To sustain yourself, you rest a hand on the sofa while the other lays upon… something tough. Toned, precisely. 

You let out a giggle. "I drank a bit…" It takes you quite a few seconds to register that you're using Jungkook's bicep like a perch -and your smile flips off your face. It takes you even more to process that he's holding your waist -and your heart plummets in your chest. You flicker your stare from his hands to his face, so so close, and for the first time in a long while you grasp all the details that, if put together, give shape to that beautiful being that is Jeon Jungkook.

His big doe eyes, dark and deep and shiny -like the Milky Way were floating in them. The tiny moles, on the bridge of his nose, under his lip, on the left portion of his neck. The upper lip, thinner than the bottom's, its plumpness emphasized by the hoop ring circling the corner. The piercing on his eyebrow, covered by a few mint curls. The barely noticeable scar on his left cheekbone. 

Handsome...

You merely think it, after months spent hearing other people talk about his beauty (amidst the eccentricity).

Jungkook must catch something in the glint of your eyes because he delivers you a sheepish smile, before lowering his head. 

It's a sign you should pull away. You're making him uncomfortable. A thirty-three-year old who looks at a twenty-three-year old like he was a breathing work of art (or like you'd love to bite off his clothes). But Jungkook gazes back at you, and his eyes shining wet are so mesmerizing you can't inch away. 

"You ok?" He mumbles, quietly. His thumbs brush against the fabric of your shirt. 

"Yeah... Too much wine." You chuckle. "But I'm fine." 

"Good." 

Jungkook runs the tip of his tongue on his bottom lip, chews on it. Like a force was pulling you, your trembling fingers reach for the little scar -a soft groove immersed in a hue of bright red. He stiffens when you barely graze it, and your first reaction is to move away (and migrate on another planet); but his hand reaches out for yours, after a brief moment of astonishment, permitting you to rest the pads on his cheekbone. You press the tips a little, enjoying the smooth sensation of the cut on his skin.

Namjoon had one on his hip… 

"I fell when I was little," Jungkook starts, eyelids fluttering down. He tilts his head to the side, your palm adheres to his cheek. "I was fighting with my brother. I stole one of his toys and he was - was chasing after me and I bumped the corner of the table." He lets out a giggle. 

Namjoon fell from the bicycle when he was hanging out with some friends. You love grazing it while hugging him from behind, in bed. A small moonlight cut on his amber skin...

"You've a brother."

He nods. "He's older than me. Now we get along, but we used to fight a lot when we were little." His lips stretch in a beaming smile, eyes opening like leaves in the sun. "I can't wait to see him again, when I'll be back to Busan."

His words full of joy are enough to shatter the bubble of intimacy you were floating into (what the hell has gotten into you?). 

You pull your hand away in a rush, brushing the palm on your side like it was stained with some dirty substance. You remind yourself that Jungkook is a young stranger who will leave soon: he'll go back to his life, his friends, the people he loves, the girls he left behind. He'll go back to enjoy his twenty-three years with people his age.

Jungkook is a stranger...

You stand up, observing the expression of confusion that dawns on his face, bottom lip jutting out in an imperceptible sign of disappointment. 

"It's nice that you two get along." You fold your own arms around your waist, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Busan is nice. I went there twice, when Joonie participated in some conferences." You tuck some hair behind your ear. Mentioning Namjoon will help you to stay grounded. "You'll have a lot of fun."

Jungkook pauses. Then, "I'm having fun here, too." 

His low voice liquefies into the thick tension now settled upon you, seeps through the cracks and slaps you in your stomach. You feel like… you've just crossed a line you should've never reached in the first place, and now you don't know what to do to beat a retreat. 

Jungkook clenches his hands into fists, unfolds them again, brushes the tips against one another as if the consistency of your body was still laying upon them (your guts twists at that sight. He drank too much, too). Delivering you a dim smile, he stands up, stroking Bam's head when the puppy approaches him. 

Trying to contain the trembling in your shoulders, you near Moonie, who woofs toward Bam, seeking for attention. "Hey, you… you surely slept a lot, mh?" you mumble, crouching down to caress his relaxed muzzle. You can feel Jungkook's stare boring through your skin, like he was trying to understand what's whirling in your mind. However, when you gaze over him, there's no trace of annoyance across his features -just a pair of soft eyes that has your heart beating in every inch of you. 

Jungkook parts his lips but whatever was about to tell you rolls back down his throat when a pair of knocks at your door breaks your stillness. Your dogs start barking toward the entrance, Yoongi's voice wafts over you in a muffled sound:

"(Y/N), it's me. Are you there?"

You snap back down to reality, sparing a quick glance to the boy on the other side of the room. He doesn't seem particularly fazed for your friend showing up here so late. You, instead, are a bundle of nerves: you know that Yoongi will torment you forever for Jungkook being here with you at night, all alone. 

"(Y/N), don't pretend you're dead as usual. I know you're awake!" 

Jungkook softly chuckles at Yoongi's comment (you won't punch your friend only because Jungkook’s laugh is the prettiest sound). "Coming! Wait, geez, don't kick the door down..." When you open, Yoongi darts at you a frustrated look, fist still resting mid-air. 

He starts talking before you even have the time to greet him. "It's all your fault!" He crosses his arms, resembling one of your little students when you scold them. "I followed your bad advice to put a like on her photos, because she posted a picture of the mixtape I made in college. My mixtape, you get it? The one I made for her. I had to put a like, because that mixtape was a masterpiece—but, anyway, I wasn't expecting shit and within five minutes she sent me a message: 'hi, Yoongi-chi, how are you doing?' Do you get it?! Yoongi-chi, after all these years, holy fucking shit—oh." His flood of words fades in a silence brimmed with surprise as soon as he takes notice of Jungkook, standing still on his spot, stroking Bam's ear. He blinks twice when the boy bows a little, greeting him with a polite: 'Hello, hyung' "Did... Did I interrupt something?"

You gaze over your shoulder. Jungkook is shaking his head. "Don't worry, hyung. I was about to go. Bam, c'mon…" he taps his hand on his thigh to catch his dog's attention, guiding him toward the entrance. Yoongi moves to the side to let him walk out. "So, it's ok then? Tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM?" Jungkook asks, a little wobble in his voice makes you weak in your knees.

You swallow thickly. You're trapped. You can't tell him 'no' after agreeing to his request. You'd act like a total bitch; you'd embarrass him in front of Yoongi, judging by the expectation floating in his eyes, you'd break his heart…)

"Yeah… yes, it's ok, sure," you manage to say, tongue-twisted. 

Jungkook's whole face scrunches up. "Great!" He exclaims, with the same high-pitched voice he usually uses when talking to Bam. "Ahm, see you tomorrow. Good night, Noona. Yoongi hyung." He bows again, before toddling away. 

You observe his retracting figure with your heart fluttering in your throat. You close the door when he crosses the street, all muscles tensed up and mind empty like a typhoon just passed by.

Yoongi coughs, dragging you back down to earth. "Noona…" He sneers. "Tomorrow morning? Tomorrow morning, what?"

"Something that a woman my age shouldn't do." You shake your head before his arched brow. "He… invited me to hike."

Your friend pokes the tip of his tongue on his cheek, jamming his hands inside his pockets. "What's wrong? You love hiking."

"I do. Just, not so much as I used to..." you shrug when a line of annoyance crafts itself between his knitted brows. You're too tipsy and tired to face this topic. "And I'm out of shape. Don't think he'll invite me ever again after tomorrow." You shuffle toward the couch, plopping down on it. Moonie is immediately beside you, leaning his chin on your knees. 

"Nah, don't worry. I bet he can't wait to give you a piggy-back ride. Or hold you in bridal style." Yoongi glances at the empty bottle of wine and the two glasses, grinning. "Ready to give him a blowjob surrounded by the sounds of the forest?"

You snap your tongue. "Oh, Yoongi-chi, we both know you're the one who looks forward to receiving a good blowjob by you-know-who." You smirk, staring at his red cheekbones. You inhale sharply through your nose, watching him mutter under his breath. "So… Minji wrote to you."

He nods.

"And you?"

He frowns, sitting on the sofa. "I didn't reply, of course." He stretches his hand out, Moonie jumps on the empty cushion and cuddles next to him. 

"Why?"

He scratches the back of his nape. "I don't know what to tell her." He tilts his head back, huffing. "What the fuck do you say to a friend-with-benefits who wanted something more and you treated her like shit? That I didn't fuck with anyone else since she's been gone? That I regret everyday rejecting her? That if I could turn back time, I'd become his boyfriend?"

A shadow of tenderness draws a smile on your lips. "Yes… if that is useful to move on."

Yoongi opens his mouth, closes it shortly after. You know he's refraining himself from telling you something awful. "I won't do shit. I… it's better if we stay like this. It wouldn't work. The fact she went away is a sign that it won’t work. Shit, I need a drink…" he comments, standing up. He goes to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge before you could tell him to treat himself. "Regarding the new boy—"

"Whatever it is, I don't care."

"The other day, he bought condoms. Size large." He leans against the sink, smirking. "He is well-hung."

Your stomach twirls. You want to throw up (and a part of you wants to take Jungkook’s dick in your mouth). "Oh, shut up.."

“I hate and I love. And if you ask me how, I do not know: I only feel it, and I’m torn in two”

  Jungkook posted a new video on his Instagram page, in the afternoon. 

He's sitting on the black pouf across from the large window that overlooks the backyard garden of his house -the rays of sun filtering through the fronds kisses his face in lights-and-shadows patterns that has your fingers itching for tracing each one of them. His mouth is curled in a way that fully displays the tiny mole laying underneath of his bottom lip, tongue clicking in a rhythmic beat akin to hands of a clock marking the time in the silence. The caption reads: “I’m bored”. 

(Yoongi informed you that “the new boy” made an appearance on his social media, sending you the link that redirected you to his page. He added that it obviously was a cry for help because you abandoned him for the whole day; he also suggested asking Jungkook to pick you up at the station when you'll be back in town and give him a thank-you blowjob. You hate Yoongi.

Jin only put a like on the video, instead. Then, he commented with a playful: "You should come by to Min’s restaurant. The daily menu offers Bulgogi for only 5 dollars. An unmissable offer!" Jungkook replied with three laughing emoji. You love Jin). 

You pause the video, the clicking sound now is just a ghost faded in the horn sounding coming from the street and some rap playlist seeping through a latest model stereo. 

You wonder how he spent the day…

When you told him you'd spend this Friday out of town to meet up with a friend, his eyebrows collapsed on his doe eyes in a nuance of sadness that striked your throbbing heart. On a feeble smile that graced his face, he told you that it was ok, to have fun; he told you to text him if you were bored -you haven't (you never send each other messages; actually, it's better if you don't start). Maybe, this brief break from your assiduous encounters could be a chance for Jungkook to meet someone new, setting you aside in the process…

Your liquid stare flickers from the replies cascading in the comment section (a very few male friends; a tons of girls) to the video. You scrutinize the well-defined shape of his thick eyebrows, the metal bar piercing adorning the right one; the length of his eyes, the deepness of his dark irises; the plumpness of his bottom lip, rosy and shiny presumably for lip balm; the smoothness of his hair, parted to the side—!

You go back to his page when the picture of your fingers racking through those mint and black threads suddenly appears in the back of your mind. His personal Instagram is full of his selcas at the gym; videos of his boxing training; toothy smiles that punch the breath out of you; nightlife and trips brackets with his best friends, Taehyung and Jimin; pictures of his Marvel action figures collection neatly disposed on shelves in his bedroom; shootings of Bam when he was a small bean curled up in his arms… it's the typical page of a young boy revealing a miniscule part of his life. 

It reminds you that ten years keep you apart, making you live into two different sides of the world with little to nothing in common. 

It reminds you that Jungkook has nothing to do with Namjoon... 

Hoseok plops down on the chair all of a sudden, his grunt of disappointment breaks through your consciousness. You were so caught up in your own thoughts to not process that he walked out of his bedroom to come back to the living room. 

"Sorry, business call." He huffs, shoving back his brownish hair parted to the side. “They moved up the mv shooting and I've to be there at 9:00 AM. Goodbye to my plans of sleeping till 12:00 PM." He joins his hands in front of his apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I asked you to meet up because I was free and instead, I spent half of my time on the phone." 

Yesterday morning, Hoseok texted you out of the blue to tell you that he'd like to spend his day of break with you -because the last time you saw each other had been almost half a year ago (his white shirt stuck to his torso due to the hot weather and humidity; the loosened black tie; the eyes puffy and red and cheeks crossed by the ghost of tears shed in the past days). He asked you to meet up in Seoul, because he'd love to show you around his new apartment that overlooks the Han River.

After half a year made of excuses and 'no', you accepted his invitation lightheartedly.

You close the app on your phone and rest it on the corner of the counter resting against the window, before turning to your friend, a small smile hanging on your lips. 

Time has been generous with Hoseok. It seems like years stopped elapsing upon him. Years are a very few wrinkles at the corner of his eyes when he smiles; wrinkles around his mouth when he exhales his bright laughter; grooves a bit deeper on the back of his hands. But aside from this, he's still the same, jovial Hoseok you cherish in all your memories bonded to Seoul. 

The only jar notching him is the note of melancholy that pierces through his peacefulness -the same you see floating in your own eyes when you stare at your own reflection in the mirror. 

That's why you avoided Hoseok for so long. Having him at a few inches from you reminds you that you're the sides of the same coin: both dealing with a lacerating wound in your heart, expressed in two different ways. 

You let out a soft chuckle before his mouth shaped in a 'V' cut, shaking your head. “Don't worry. Being one of the most wanted choreographers of South Korea comes with a lot of responsibilities. Well, it has its perks, too…" you cast a glance upon the window across from you. Seoul stretches before your glistening eyes with its high buildings and light poles chords running through the city surrounding the Han River; your attention drifts to the bridge, yellow and red car lights all lined up and scratching the dark veil of the night.

There's something magical in this scenario. 

An invisible force that calls you back to the chaos of the city, inviting you to pack all your belongings and come back here -were one of the most important chapters of your personal book began. 

But you can't. You left too many important things in your town. 

You left someone locked in a studio brimmed with books and clothes and letters and diaries; you left a man with a pair of  droopy eyes who always waits for you to walk you home even if his shift ended a hour earlier; you left a man with plump lips who invites you to play videogames in his two-rooms home flat while he cooks your favorite dish, recounting you about the last woman he met on Tinder; you left a boy with a pair of doe eyes who softly knocks at your door every morning at the same hour, ready to walk your dogs out together -a boy who posted a video on Instagram because he was bored.

(The fact that Jungkook is included into the list is a little unsettling).

You suddenly feel the urge to go back home…

You look at the moonlight cloaking the waters like a second skin, your pointer gliding along the edge of the glass of wine. "I didn't think you'd be back in town so soon, anyway." You take a sip of your drink. "Last time I checked, you were in Daegu for Sansuyu’s concert. I heard it was great."

"It was. I love working with her, she's so… down to earth, despite the success." He flaps his finger in the air, lips curled in a sign of offense. "But the tour finished two weeks ago. Which means that you aren't stalking my Instagram profile. That's soooo bad, (Y/N). Friendship ruined. Enough." He dramatically rests his hands on his chest, opening just one eye to see your amused reaction. "But I don't expect much from someone who used to post a picture once every two years."

"Quality over quantity." You comment, "You know I've never been a social media girl." The corners of your mouth quiver, curve a bit. "Joonie was way more active than me." His page was full of sculptures and paintings and books and museums he visited and selfies with Moonie and nature… it was calm but with a profound meaning, just like him. You stopped visiting his profile.

"Well… I took a look, and it seems like someone is pretty active, lately." Hoseok grins, you swallow thickly. "Two photos in just a week. The end of the world is near."

Since Namjoon’s been gone, you stopped updating your page. Nothing seems worth enough to be portrayed in a photograph. But a week ago, Jungkook took a picture of you while you were relaxing on the river -Bam and Moonie playing next to you; and three days ago, Jungkook took a picture of you while you were reading under the old tree, a small smile on your lips, soft eyes, and peacefulness cocooning you. 

He told you that you looked pretty. You believed him, and you posted them (he put a like after a couple of seconds).  

Hoseok folds his arms on the table. "So... who is the lucky one?" 

You almost choke on your drink as you look at him, goggle-eyed. You recognise that expression too well: it's the same that crossed his face many years ago, when he questioned you about you and Joonie and your green love-story. "What do you mean?" you moisten your lips, that light wobble in your voice is enough to show your discomfort. 

He sneers, a malicious glint streams in his eyes veiled with exhaustion. "You seem... Happier. More calm, mh." He shrugs. "And you usually rejected all my invitations. I admit I'm surprised you accepted, this time." Hoseok rests his back against the wall, eyes pinned on the window. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you're here. But the fact you agreed to see me again means that: 1) you needed to run away from your town; 2) you're finally getting better." He lets out a sigh. "What's his name?"

"Jungkook..." You pronounce it before your brain could actually register Hobi's analysis. It's just when you sink in his amused eyes that you get a grip of yourself. "But - but it's not about him, I really wanted to see you. It's been so long, after all. I missed you so much." And it's true, you missed Hoseok to the core. . 

“I missed you too." He chuckles. "Jungkook… does he live there?" He goes back to the previous topic. You're trapped. 

"No… he's there on holiday." There's a stabbing pain in your ribcage when you say it. "But nothing happened. We just hang out, that's all."

“C’mon… tell me something about that man.”

Man… that word crafts a lump in your throat. Hoseok probably expects that you met a man around your age, or older. Maybe a middle-age man; an employee escaped from a smothering job to indulge in a few days of recreation. One of those men who spend their weeks wearing an elegant suit and a tie and who's a fleecer when it comes to business. Instead, you spend your days with a boy who ran to your village because he can't put together the pieces of his life  and it’s torn in two between going back to college or searching for a stable job or travelling around the world and stopping somewhere -paying attention to not plant roots. One of those city-boys full of tattoos and piercings who's raising a dog like a son and is gentle and delicate. A boy who—

“He’s twenty three…” his age tumble off your tongue cautiously, like you’ve just spilled a secret that could cost your entire life. You stiffen, unprepared about the expression of sheer dismay that is surely crossing his face. But when you turn, Hoseok doesn't seem surprised. Or, well… he is, but not in a negative way. "He lives in the house across from mine, but we didn't talk at first. Like, we ignored each other. We got close thanks to our dogs… now, we hang out almost every day to walk them out, or we go hiking. Or we have dinner or lunch at our places. Nothing special," you briefly explain, heart all warm for the memories cascading in the back of your mind. "And he's going to leave at the end of August." Saying it out loud will remind you to keep your distance. 

"Oh… it seems serious."

"It isn't. Nothing happened." You take a gulp of wine. "Did I say that he's going to leave at the end of August?"

He chuckles, nodding. "And… do you like him?”

Oh… this is new. This question is simple, but to you it is pretty hard because you never stopped to analyze your feelings for Jungkook. You like hanging out with him; you like watching movies with him; you like exchanging a joke or two when he comes to Min's restaurant. But you never texted each other; and you never went grocery shopping together; and you never relied upon each other when doubts overwhelmed you. 

The fact is… despite mocking you, Seokjin and Yoongi never actively asked you what's happening between you two, or what you feel for him. And you didn't shake things up to prevent yourself from labeling your acquaintance and give a name to the emotions bubbling up in the abyss of your chest. 

"I don't know… I just, you know, I sometimes would like to…" words trail off mid-sentence, a vibrant flush spreads to the tip of your ears. "He's got a body that's a work of art. Like… God." You rub a hand on your face, giggling. "I drank too much wine."

He squeezes your shoulder, flashing you a beaming smile. "Don't worry, attraction is a normal thing. Don't feel ashamed of it." He reassures you, fondly. "This Jungkook… he must be special. After all that happened you pushed away everyone, and I get it… but you're letting him stay. It's a nice thing." Hoseok's voice is soft, it melts away the icy cold that was surrounding your heart. "And whatever might happen between you two… you don't have to tell anyone. Just go for it!"

The left corner of your mouth pulls up for his suggestion, eyes fixed on the burgundy liquid in the glass. You take a sip of it, swiping away the bitterness in the back of your throat. 

"You, instead?" You change topic, feeling tears pricking at the corner of your liquid eyes. 

Hoseok pauses, serious. Then, his lips unfurl in a sweet smile. "I met a girl." He lowers his head, awkward. "We go out from time to time. Ahm, she… she works as a make-up artist in my company and we got closer during the tour." He chews on his bottom lip, hands trembling on his lap. "When we sleep together, she whispers my name. It's… nice. I never felt like this." Hoseok's stare, shining wet, engulfs into yours. "I've never understood Namjoon, when he told me that you were the right one. That you were, you know, the human made for him. But now I get it…" he lets out a sigh, like this confession was weighing on his chest for all this time. "I… fear it might end."

You open your mouth to express your joy, but not a sound escapes. Words are withered flowers resting in the back of your throat. You set your eyes on a picture of Namjoon situated on a shelf, feeling your heart plummeting in your chest (beats skip on his smile, on his dimples, on his young features -on this half a year of absence). 

The area around your eyes swell up, tears shine bright in your eyes.

Hoseok reaches for your hand, snapping you back down to reality. His thumb brushes on your wedding ring, he pulls you closer to wrap you in a soft embrace (the same he used to give you when homesickness hit you, back in college; the same he gave you amidst all those people wearing a balck suit and grief). "I should come to visit him," he says, displaying for the first time the very first emotion of sorrow in his trembling voice. "I haven't come since that day."

Teeth clamp the bottom lip to keep tears at bay. "You should. You'd make him happy."

The nocturnal landscape outside the window train unfolds in a flash of blinding lights immersed in the darkness, you take in the sight of every bit of it, aware that you won't see this magical view for a very long time. 

In your inbox, your Kakao-chat with Seokjin closes with a pair of angry emoji because you rejected his request to come to pick you up at the station ("It's late, it's dangerous. Unless you already asked for it to the new boy, then it's ok 😡😡"). In your Instagram chat, Jungkook sent you a text a few hours ago -the first message since you've started hanging out ("Hello, Noona. Are you having fun?" You said yes, and asked him if he had fun. "I did. But not like the other days. Something was missing").

Your phone vibrates, Yoongi just sent you a selfie of him and Moonie, both sprawled on the sofa: 

[Yoongi-chi - 11:03 PM] Btw, he was mopey all day A lost, sad puppy

[You - 11:03 PM] I know :( It's the first time I leave Moonie alone for so long I feel awful 

[Yoongi-chi - 11:05 PM] Moonie is fine I was talking about the new boy :)

[Yoongi-chi 11:05 PM] Guess a good blowjob will make him happy again :D 

 Anxiety wraps around every fiber of your being like ivy, muscles tensing. Just your heart lays untouched in its cage of bones. It thumps feverishly, calling Jungkook's name in a series of beats out of tune. 

It hasn't happened in a while.

You're scared.

“When we held hands it felt different. The warmth washed away all my worries”

  You’ve always looked forward to the harvest festival like a little child waiting for Christmas day, hands itching to grab a present and unpack it at the speed of light. 

However, Namjoon's absence took a toll on your excitement, dissipating the summer magic that was wrapping this event: it's just a celebration like the many you've witnessed during your past trips in other cities or countries; there's nothing special in those stands, in the laughter and loud chattering plaguing the atmosphere; in the music seeping through the noise; in the screams of children; in the feeble, reddish lights of lanterns bathing the streets. 

It's like… It feels like Namjoon took all the beauty of your world with himself, when he left. 

And yet…

You turn to your right, captured by Jungkook’s chuckle (dealing with the shivers spreading from your skull to your toes). Standing beside you, he's busy watching the puppet show that you know like the back of your hand by now, resembling one of the many children sitting on the ground, carefully following the development of the plot. He's holding a cotton candy stick, from time to time his free hand runs to grab a small piece of thin, pink fluffy filament and pulls it in his mouth with a couple of fingers, sucking them in the process to get rid of the sticky substance.  

You study the way his lips curl around his thumb; the way his brows snap together when he really enjoys his food; the shiny sparkle of his lip piercing when the light hits it just right. 

You shouldn’t be here with him…

You shouldn't be here...

A sensation of discomfort sets itself in your lungs, making it hard to breathe. You shouldn't be here, having fun. It's… wrong. But a part of you (the smallest, but the most tired one) begs you to cut yourself some slack and stop overthinking for the slightest second. It begs you to listen to Hoseok reassuring words, which accompanied you throughout these days, and to just enjoy the moment, and take notice of all the beauty you'd lose if you had decided to spend your night at home -on your own. 

To take notice of Jungkook and how handsome he is when happiness cocoons him. 

When Jungkook laughs, you feel like the word beauty takes a brand-new meaning: his nose scrunches up on the tip and the bridge of his nose lifts itself up imperceptibly; his mouth opens wide to reveal his front teeth that make him look like a little bunny; his eyes crinkle in the corner, and the puffy area under them swell up into two soft pads that has your fingertips itching to prod them. 

All of a sudden, Jungkook turns to you, probably feeling your stare boring through his skin. His bottom lip, jutting out, is shining wet for the saliva and sugary cotton; he runs the tip of his tongue on it to clean his mouth, and a small smile unfurls, slowly swiping away the confusion that was dancing across his features up to now.

(It's the same smile he delivered you after proposing you to accompany him to the festival with him, a couple of days ago. His face shone bright in the sunlight above your heads, the sound of the river filled your silence. And the surprising fact is that… you didn’t hesitate to accept. He asked you to go together, and a genuine: "Yes, sure" immediately tumbled off your tongue, pumped up by your throbbing heart). 

“Do you want some?” he questions, shaking the stick to the sides. 

Snapping back down to reality, you shake your head, feeling a vibrant flush spreading from your neck to your cheekbones for being caught staring. Still with his eyes caressing your side-profile, you go back to watching the puppet show, without really taking notice of what's happening on the small stage. You focus your attention on the two gold-fishes peacefully swimming in the plastic bag you're holding tight (Jungkook won them for you. He called them (Y/N) and Kookoo. You should be scared he called them after your names, but your just heart made an annoying fluttering thing in your chest before his toothy smile), then you stare at the various children sitting on the ground, recognising some of your (ex) little students, who make sure to wave at you enthusiastically whenever you meet their bright eyes.

Nostalgia tugs at corners of your mouth and cascades down to your chest when you think that you won't hear their jokes and laughters and voices anymore, when the new school year will begin. 

Jungkook chuckles again, tilting his head back to swallow down a big chunk of cotton candy. 

You wonder if nostalgia will hit you with such an electric intensity when he won't be here anymore, too… 

“It’s nice…” Jungkook suddenly comments, sucking on his thumb. He prods the tip of his tongue on his side teeth, taking a look around. "It's been a really long time since I've been to a village fete."

You watch the curtains of the small stage close down, probably to get ready for the next show. "There were a lot of them where you live?" You raise your voice a bit for the loud applause lingering in the air. 

"Not many, no. But I used to go to all of them with my friends." He rubs his hand on his side before laying it gently on your small back, guiding you out of the crowd as you brush past the people gathered behind the children. "At first, I just wanted to play in all the stalls. You know, my favorite is the throwing-hoops. I won - won so many plushies. As I grew up, it became a good way to pick up girls—I mean, it's not like I played that game for that. But it was a good way to get noticed and they were so cute and smelled so nicely and - and—God, it sounds so terrible? It's just that they had this nice smell and I—hey!" Jungkook’s bottom lip juts out when you burst out laughing in the middle of his recount, interrupting him. However, the expression of disappointment across his features liquefies into something more serious as he observes the scale of your neck while you tilt your head back, hand running to cover your mouth.

You turn to him, ready to apologize, but the way he’s contemplating you, like you were some sort of work of art with a beating heart and blood… it sets your guts fully alight.

You moisten your lips, noticing his stare is now enraptured by the area around your mouth. “What?” you manage to ask, unable to erase the wobble in your voice. 

You’re scared about his reaction, about the eventual answer he might give you, because Jungkook is just like a child, sometimes: he's brutally honest, in a way that makes you feel self-conscious about yourself. 

His eyes crinkle in the corner (and your heart skips a couple of beats). “You’re beautiful when you laugh like this,” he says, delicate, as if you were a flower at the mercy of the hail. A light pink shade colors his cheeks, but his smile doesn't flip off his face. “It’s a pity you don’t often laugh,” he then comments, with a low voice, studying the expression of surprise dawning on your face.

You avert his stare for a brief moment, exhaling a giggle. "Oh, c'mon, that's not true. I laugh a lot.” You move to the side to not smash against a group of guys, you accidentally bump into Jungkook's side (he doesn't inch away). 

“No, you don’t," he replies, peacefully. "And when you do, dunno, something is… off. But when you laugh like this, like you feel it… it's a nice view." He swallows thickly, scratching his temple while casually staring at a stand full of typical products and jams of the area. 

You part your lips but not a single sound escapes from them. There's a scorching earthquake that shakes you from the inside, impending you to fully focus on a proper answer. You feel… naked. It feels like Jungkook carefully observed you for all this time, mentally listing every tiny detail or gesture that crafts you in the person you are. His capacity to see past all the shields you've put around you frightens you because, to you, Jungkook is still a stranger. Sure, he spilled some tales and recounts about himself, but it's still not enough to label him as a "friend" or to assure you that you've stepped over the "acquaintance" line… 

You know that he's waiting for a follow-up that doesn't come -you can read it in the expectation floating in his eyes. But the only thing you can give him in return is a small smile, which will never compare to the heartwarming words he shared with you.

The pair of you go back to wander through the streets adorned with lanterns, paying attention to not bump into the people coming from the opposite direction. None of you seems intentioned to start a conversation, attention drifted to the stalls at your sides. You wonder if Jungkook is annoyed for the moment you shared a few minutes ago, considering you voluntarily made your bubble of intimacy explode -just like you always do when you smell the first sprout of emotion. 

"You… ahm, did you want to come - come here with your friends, by chance?" His voice quivers a little, like he feared you might agree to this option. His wide eyes shake before your frown. "I told you to come with me, but I didn't think you probably had plans with them already."

Your only plan was to spend your night at home, on your own. Seokjin is probably fucking with his girlfriend (the second in four months), Yoongi is probably writing songs that no ear will ever listen to (because the only ears he cares about are too far away).

He nibs at the cotton candy, munching slowly. "I don't want to cause you troubles, (Y/N)." Your name wafts over you like a distant melody, waking you up from your numbness (you like the way your name sounds on his lips). 

 You liked the way your name sounded on Namjoon's lips...

"You… you aren't," you say, vaguely. "Why would you think that?" 

He scrunches his nose. "People keep looking at us like we were some weird aliens.” 

Oh, that… 

“Oh, that… yes… I mean, no! No, no, you aren’t a problem!” Your stomach twirls for his big eyes now veiled with disappointment, teeth clamping at his bottom lip in a nervous gesture. You rack your brain frantically to search for a good way to reassure him. "You know, they’re still curious about you. And I believe they think you’re probably trying to swindle me, or you're trying to kidnap me due to your gang." You let out a chuckle, amused by the myriads of stories still circulating around him. "But… it's probably me, the problem." 

Because you're wearing a nice, short summer dress -after years of hoodies and tracksuits and old sweaters and worn-out jeans (the dress that Joonie bought you just because you said how much you liked it).  Because you've put some make-up on -after years spent without even trying to hide your exhaustion or sadness. Because you're spending your time with a new guy -after spending all your time only with Yoongi and Seokjin, the only people who fully comprehend the weight of the sorrow you're carrying with you. Because you got your ears pierced again, a few days ago, and now a pair of gold hoops are shining on your earlobes. Because—

"Because I stopped coming to the festival since my husband has been gone." You give him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. "That's why they're curious. Don't mind them…"

He frowns. “Why?”

Because Namjoon loves it. Because Namjoon is here, in every corner. Namjoon floats in the laughter plaguing the atmosphere. Namjoon is the music that lingers in the air. Namjoon is in the bookstalls, in the typical smell of paper that he adores to the core. Namjoon is in the lanterns lighting up the city. Namjoon is in every second of this event, and you feel smothering. 

That's why you stopped coming here. Because you're still here, enjoying this moment. But Namjoon isn't...

"I thought you liked it," he adds, overwhelmed by your sudden mutism. "You talked so much about this festival, I was looking forward to it." 

"I do, it's just…" your fingers twiddle with your wedding ring. You catch a breath, tears pricking at the corners of your shiny eyes. “It’s complicated…”

Jungkook pauses. Then, “I know… you always tell me." There's no trace of annoyance in his delicate voice, but still you can catch a veil of sadness that tugs at your heart. 

Oh, God… how much you'd love to confess to him all the things running through your head and chest; how much you crave to show every facet of your true self, without any fear to crumble like sand slipping through his fingers; how much you'd love to be able to include Jeon Jungkook in your life (but you can't).

Your fingers flicker in the air even if your brain didn't send any impulse to your limbs, like a force was pulling them. They scrape the thin veil of air between you two and rest on his bicep (you try to ignore the flex of his muscle, but you know your brain is registering this detail for later) in a feather-like grip -firm enough to make him stiffen, though. You sink in his wide eyes full of astonishment, aware that you've never indulged too much into physical contact, and you expect him to rotate his arm to shove you away… instead, he stays still, relaxing in your touch each passing second. 

His stare lingers on your hand, only to flicker up to your face, softly.

You don't know why you did it. You used to do it with Joonie when he felt down and-and Jungkook isn't your husband, though. You can act like this, in a blind belief that he'll accept your demeanor just because Namjoom accepts it. You can't, it's not right, it's—!

Your heart lurches in your chest. You observe Jungkook's fingers laying on your own -they're a bit sticky for the cotton candy. He presses them on his bicep more instead of pulling you away. And then, he darts you this… comforting stare, silently telling you that everything is fine. 

And you feel lighter…

Like Jungkook's happiness and quietness were a good reason to go back to breathing… 

You notice his lips parting, like he was on the cusp of telling you something; but whatever he was about to say rolls back down in his throat when he takes notice of a stall, behind your back: it's the throwing-hoops stand, adorned by a myriad of plushies of various dimensions hung all around it. 

You give him a tender stare, contemplating the thousands of sparks shining bright in his eyes. They remind you of the starry sky above your heads when you stargaze in the backyard of your house, Bam and Moonie napping close to you. "Want to try?"

He sinks back down to earth, observing the long queue across the stand. "N-no, don't worry. Too many people, don't want you to waste time waiting." 

You shrug, clamping your hands behind your back. "It's ok. There's a bookstall I'd like to see, I can wait for you there." You grin before his skeptic glance. "You said you were good at it. Or should I think it was just a way to impress me?"

“Well… sort of—no! N-no, no, I'm good at it, but I - I'm out of shape, mh." He swallows, shoves back his mint hairs with both hands. "Is - is there something you like?"

You look at the toys, unfazed. "Not particularly. Anything is ok as long as you win it." You didn't mean to sound so flirty, you were just trying to keep a light-hearted conversation to spare him the embarrassment. But Jungkook suddenly straightens his postures, inhales sharply through his nose while his chest swells up. "It's ok even if you come back empty-handed, of course."

He snorts a laugh, smirking. "I'll win for you the biggest plush they have." He tilts his head to both sides to crack his bones before raising his thumb up. He nears the people gathered around the stand, waiting in line. 

You stare at him, unbothered by the quick glances people throw at him for the arabesque of tattoos coloring his right arm. 

You go in the opposite direction, approaching the bookstall you noticed a while ago. You start studying the various titles and covers piled up a bit messily, searching for all those novels that Namjoon often mentioned in his recounts. You want to try them, seeing if they're as interesting as he used to say. 

Caught up in your own thoughts, while moving a bit to the side to pick up a book, you accidentally bump against the person situated beside you. 

"Ah, so sorry," you apologize, hand running to your opposite arm to scratch it a little. You're about to go back to minding your own business when your brain suddenly registers who the girl next to you actually is. "Oh, you—" your eyes grow a little, corners of your mouth pulling up a little. "Hajoon, hello."

She was an old student of Namjoon. You don't remember much about her, aside from her name and that she moved out of town last year to study at university. 

“Ms (Y/N), hi.” Hajoon bows a little. She delivers you the usual stare that the majority of people here dart to you -as if you were only Namjoon's wife, and not (Y/N).

You're about to question her about her life, the usual small talks you usually have whenever you bump into Namjoon's old students only to not deal with uncomfortable questions they could ask you. However, words falter and die in the back of your throat when you take notice of the swelling womb under her t-shirt. 

Oh…

Shee must've read something in your wide stare lingering on her belly, because she exhales a light giggle. "It's already four months," she states, lovingly, casting a glance down below. She doesn't seem mad about you gawking at her, she must be used to the curious glances people inevitably throw to pregnant women. "I still don't know the sex, we prefer keeping it as a surprise."

"Oh, that's…"

That's great. It's really great. Why can't you vocalize it? It's great… That's great. It's—

"Great," you manage to say, feeling a stabbing pain in your chest, close to where your heart rests. You shake your head, trying to recollect your thoughts. "Ahm, I didn't want to stare, it's just—"

She's young. She's younger than you when you met Namjoon. She's around the age you were when you left your hometown.  And she's already pregnant. While you and Namjoon… it's just—

"You're so young. I remember when you used to greet Namjoon outside school."

She chuckles, hands rubbing the womb. "Yeah… I admit we didn't search for it. But it happened, and we're so happy." Her eyes crinkle in the corner, she reads something in curiosity crossing your face. "It's Sungho. I thought it'd end after graduating, but we were able to work things out. He's still in Daegu, he couldn't take a few days off from his job, unfortunately." Hajoon nods. "We'd like to get married, someday."

You recognize that stare, the same you had when Namjoon was just a friend and you were too much of a coward to confess your feelings. When seeing him from afar was safe, and picturing your life together was a source of comfort during the hard times. When talking about marriage was as easy as breathing. When you were talking about children, wondering what kind of parents you two might have been. It's the same you had when Namjoon looked at you, catching you staring, and you couldn't help but think that everything made sense just because he existed and he was yours. 

The same you had when you were living with the man you loved and despite the imperfections and obstacles, life was perfect…

Hajoon speaks and you try to focus on the conversation, barging in with a comment or two to not appear rude. Hajoon speaks, but your mind is a million miles away from her and her joy. 

What are you doing here…

You should be at home. You should be taking care of Moonie. You… shouldn't be here… wearing a summer dress, putting your make-up on… 

What are you doing here?

"Well, it was nice to see you again, Ms (Y/N). And, well…" she delivers you that smile -to silently let you know that she feels sorry for you, but it's now too late to say it out loud. Because it's in the past, it's gone, everyone moved on… 

You try an attempt at a smile, glad that your conversation has come to an end, but as soon as she steps away, your features stiffen. You feel wrapped into a bubble. Sounds are muffled outside, confused…

"The weather is nice today. Guess I'll go for a bike ride. Are you in?" Namjoon searches for a clean shirt. Sun shines on his tanned skin like diamonds...

You fold yourself into a warm embrace, feeling the shivers running down your spine. You're cold. You squeeze your eyes shut. You see the sun filtering through the windows, bathing your bed. Namjoon's side is empty, wrinkles on his portion...

"No, I prefer staying here."

"Thought you'd love to come with me. It's been a while since we've been together…" Namjoon cleans his glasses. Namjoon takes off his sweatpants. Namjoon throws them on the chair, they fall on the ground...

You try to catch a breath, but air sticks in your throat. You can't pull it down. You feel smothering. You shake your head, but Namjoon is still there. He's taking off his tank top, his muscles flexing for the motion.  

"Ngh, I thought I could spend some time at home. And I've to run some errands. Can't we go another day?"

"Or you can do them another day." Namjoon chuckles...

Your heart is pounding, uncontrollably. You feel like the ground beneath your feet is crumbling, sucking in you in. You squeeze your eyes. Tears prickle at the corners. Namjoon is still here. Namjoon chuckles at something you said. Namjoon rests a knee on the mattress and stretches toward you. Namjoon places a kiss on your forehead...

"You sure you don't want to come with me?

Namjoon delivers you one last smile, eyes two sweet half moons. His hands are tight around the handlebars. His: "I love you" wafts over you softly. You wave at him. You'll tell him you love him when he'll be back... 

"(Y/N)!"

Someone calls you. There's a sigh on the other side of the phone. Jin's voice is quivering. You don't understand anything he's saying. Words blend with tears and sighs and gulps…

"(Y/N)! Look? I won! Well, I know the plush is small and - and, well, I actually won a bigger one. But a child was crying and I - I gave it to her..."

There's blood in the air. And the sickening smell of brakes on the asphalt. You try to catch a breath, but you can't. You feel smothering.

"But this one is cute, too. And I thought—(Y/N), you ok?"

You feel like fainting. You rest your hands on your bent knees. Cold shivers run to your toes. Sweat sticks on your forehead, a drop glides down on your temple…

"(Y/N)... You ok?" Jungkook gently touches you on the shoulder and you flinch, gazing back at him. His shape is blurry beyond the liquid sparks in your eyes. You try to call him but your voice doesn't come out. "What—don't you feel well?"

"I—" you gasp for air. You can't breathe. "Want to—" you exhale some air but it sticks in your throat. You cough. "Away…"

You don't know what you've just blurted out. Your voice is slurry, a mess between stuttered breaths. 

Jungkook spares you one last glance before grabbing your hand into his own, gently guiding you far away from the crowd (were they staring at you? You don't know. You don't care. You can't register what's happening around you). He speeds up the pace, looking around to search for a quiet place. It takes him a couple of minutes to find a little frequented area, distant from the frenzy of the festival. 

"Keep breathing…" Jungkook says, soothing voice. He maneuvers you to sit down on a bench. He crouches down, guiding you to follow his instructions. "Here… keep breathing, like this." He takes a deep breath in, letting it out to help you in this simple task that feels insurmountable. "You're safe here, (Y/N), keep breathing… like this, you're doing great..."

You hunch over, resting your forehead on your lap. Heat wraps your face, cold sweat drops glide down your temples. You keep breathing, following Jungkook's calm voice. It slowly pulls you out from the abyss you were sinking into. 

"Do you need anything? Some water?" He asks, you shake your head. "Do you want something sweet?" You shake your head. "Do you want to stay alone?" You shake your head, again. 

You hear him move, and in a brief moment of mental quietness you wonder if he's going to leave you here. But, imperceptibly, his fingers lay upon the back of your hands. "Is it ok?" You nod, breathing in. He pauses. "This is the moment I should take off my - my jacket and put it around your shoulders. But - but I don't have it." A note of playfulness makes a little giggle sprout in your throat, you exhale some air, then breathe in again. "I can take off my shirt, if you want." 

You snort a chuckle. You lift your head up a little, Jungkook delivers you a wary glance. "I think… that if you'd show your pecs, maybe people would stop badmouthing you." You try an attempt at a joke, aware that you aren't crossing a brilliant moment, right now. 

But Jungkook doesn't care. Jungkook bursts out laughing, whole face scrunching up. He moistens his lip, eyes crinkling in the corner. His thumb brushes on the back of your hand. He doesn't let you go even if you stopped trembling a few minutes ago.

"What do you want to do, (Y/N)?"

Jungkook is here. 

(Namjoon isn't.)

His thumb caresses your palm. You want to go home. 

"I want to go home."

  The cheerfulness of the festival plaguing the atmosphere lingers in your neighborhood, despite the city center being a ten minutes walk from your house. 

Sat on the veranda on the backyard of your place, you gaze at the myriad of stars scattered on the veil of darkness cloaking the town. You let out a sigh and close your eyelids, resting your heavy head against the wall.

God… you feel so embarrassed…

Having a mental breakdown in the middle of a festival, amidst all those people (people who know you)... It's true that you can't control your reactions, but you always feel so stupid and tired, in the aftermath.

"Hey, fish..." 

You crack your eyes open, head turning toward Jungkook. He is still here. You thought he'd go back to the festival, after accompanying you at home; you thought he'd greet you… and he wouldn't show up anymore. I mean… you must have embarrassed him. This is the first time you're crumbling in front of him -in front of people who aren't Jin or Yoongi. You thought Jungkook would leave you for good…

Instead, he stayed…

He guided you to the sofa, helping you to lay down. He fixed the cushion under your head, gently washed away the sweat on your forehead with a napkin. He made you a warm tea. He stayed when you took a ten minutes nap. 

"I… I'm sorry," you start, weakly. Jungkook doesn't turn to you. You moisten your lips, exhaling a sigh to control the tears shining in your eyes. "Thanks, though. For helping me, earlier."

Jungkook nods, putting himself into a stretched position. He tilts his head to both sides to crack the bones in his neck, casting a glance upon the bowl containing the two gold-fishes. "How long have you been suffering from panic attacks?" He asks, cautiously.

For a while. Since Namjoon's been gone...

"Half a year…" You stiffen. You don't like to talk about it. "How did you—"

"Jimin." He interrupts, softly. "They started when he was little, in middle school. I learned to recognise the symptoms." He smiles, bending over the bowl. "He's doing a lot better now, though." He now gazes at you, hesitant. "You… you feel better, mh?"

You nod, catching a trembling glint in his eyes. "I ruined the night, I'm sorry..." 

In the past weeks, you learned a little about Jungkook, so you expect him to reassure you. You expect him to give you a beaming smile to make you feel less bad about yourself. You expect him to do… something. Because he is gentle, ready to help others…

But the corners of his mouth pull up imperceptibly before going back to concentrating on the fishes, a gesture that punches the breath out of your body.

You ruined everything. Not only this night. Everything (whatever this everything might be). 

You know it. The acquaintance the pair of you are nurturing day by day shattered somewhere, in a place so distant you can't easily reach to patch it up with a stitch of two. 

After all, Jungkook is just a boy. 

He doesn't know what it means to love someone with deep passion and end up on your own, carrying on your shoulders a tons of projects you'll never be able to fulfill because they seem perfect only with the person who left you behind. Maybe… Jungkook is getting tired to spend-waste his time with a woman who has more sad days than happy ones -actually, he's probably regretting the day he decided to let your lives intertwine. 

You hope he is...

"I'm sorry," you start, feebly. Jungkook doesn't look at you. "I really am. You should… you should be having fun at the festival. You could meet many guys your age." You bend your legs close to your chest, circling them with your arms. "You'd have much more fun there," you mumble, resting your chin on your knees.

Jungkook taps a finger on the bowl, the fishes dash away. "It's ok. I'm having fun here, too."

You turn to him, cheek adhering to your knees. Through your lashes, Jungkook looks like a disappointed kid who can't catch the attention of the two gold fishes swimming in a circle; deep inside your heart, you're aware that it's you, the main cause of his disappointment.

"Fireworks are about to start," you continue, ignoring his previous statement. Jungkook inhales sharply through his nose. "If you go now, you're still on time—"

"I said it's ok," he interrupts, pouty, "It's ok. I want to stay here, with you." Words fly out in a whispered hush, graze your spine in shivers. "I'm having fun with you, (Y/N). It's just…" he straightens himself, his hands flickering in the air. "I'd like to do more. You don't seem happy… never." His stare now trails to you, but there's no trace of boredom or annoyance in his doe eyes; the only visible crack is sadness, and it pinches your sense of guilt. "Are you happy, (Y/N)?"

You don't know if he's referring to the moments you've shared up to now, or in general. Whatever it is, you don't reply.

In all honesty, you aren't. For a very long time now. But… you sometimes are. There are little, quick-whispered moments in which your brain forgets about Namjoon and life seems a wonderful journey to discover again: when Jin spills one of his awful jokes, exhaling his windshield laugh; when he bumps into your house without warning, bringing a dish he personally cooked for you. When Yoongi delivers you his gummy smile; when his face heats up because his mother called him "Yoongi-chi" in front of you. When Hoseok calls you only to make sure that you're doing fine; when he sends you souvenirs from all the places he's visiting. When Yoongi and Jin's mothers invite you to have some tea with them. When Jungkook… is here. 

Jungkook, waiting for you on the other side of the street, throwing rocks to entertain Bam. Jungkook, inviting you to have a walk together. Jungkook, showing up at your place with cans of beer and the proposal of a movie night made of trashy Z-movie. Jungkook, sitting on your sofa while watching cartoons and commenting out loud, Bam and Moon resting their muzzles on his thighs. Jungkook, letting out his airy laughter. Jungkook, bending down while drawing random sketches in his notebook. 

Jungkook… just him.

"I am. Sometimes…" you manage to say, still affected by your own thoughts revolving around the boy. 

"But you were more with your husband." It's not a question, the next comment tumbling off his mouth. You stiffen. It's like Jungkook immediately caught the reason behind the perpetual winter that's conditioning your life. "Would you be happier if he came back?" He hesitates, almost scared about the consequences his words might trigger. "If you miss him so much, you should tell him. Maybe you can solve things and he'll be back." A light grimace crosses his face, but he goes back to scrutinizing the fishes before you could actually notice it. 

"It's complicated." You brush your thumb on your wedding ring. "I feel like I'm suffocating when I miss him."

"What do you miss the most?"

The question is easy; the answer should be even more. His smile accompanied by two adorable dimples; his low voice; his chuckle; his hand resting upon your forehead when you used to use his lap as a pillow while he was reading; the passion dancing along his voice when he explained to you topics he loved; his: "I love you" blurted out when you least expected it, breathed out like they never weighed upon his heart...

"Small things. Things I only knew," you say, instead. Your heart quivers, he's the first you're revealing this. "Like… he couldn't dance well. But he always used to pull me into an awkward dance party while we were cooking. He was so clumsy. I lost count of how many things he broke because he accidentally hit them." You let out a chuckle, Jungkook gives you a little smile. "Or when he used to talk to his bonsai every morning. He treated them with so much care, like they were his little children." You swallow, the way his fingers used to caress the tiny leaves appear in the back of your mind. "Or… ahm, he used… since we've started dating, he used to dedicate small poems to me every day. He wrote it on napkins, ripped pieces of paper, sticky notes… I stored them all in a diary." Flush spreads to the tip of your ears, sweetness is dripping in your chest, washing away your sadness. "I haven't read them since he's been gone, but I remember each one of them by heart." Your shaky stare engulfs into his own, dark and intense. "I know that anyone can do these things—"

"But they're special because he was the one doing them," he completes the sentence for you, corners of his mouth quirking up. "I know what you mean." His eyes crinkle in the corners, then he turns toward the fishes. 

You stare at him. You'd love to open his skull and catch his train of thoughts -because it really feels like he knows what he's talking about. "Have you ever loved someone like this?"

Jungkook scratches his nape. "Don't know if it's love. But… lately, I think about all the things I love doing alone, and… dunno, it would be nice to do them with her." The moonlight kisses half of his face, you'd like to caress the visible portion and swipe away the sadness sprinkled on it. "Is it love, to you?"

"I don't know. Love is different for everyone. And I'm sure, you'll understand it on your own if it's love or not." You go back to watching in front of you. "Like… There were some things I loved to do on my own, and Namjoon too. But my whole life… I could only picture it beside him." 

"And I still do" is left unsaid, but judging from the heavy breath Jungkook just exhaled, he perfectly captured your meaning. It takes him quite a few seconds to stand up, hands brushing on the jeans to clean them. He's about to go away. You aren't surprised at all. He's probably tired of staying here, listening to the words of a woman who can't let go of her husband's memory. 

You stare at the garden, the moonlight kissing the plants and flowers. It's interesting this evolution, considering that Jungkook claimed more than once about his incapacity to let his past relationships grow in something deeper; you'd like to tell him that he's just to give himself time and be patient, that someday he'll meet a person and all the pieces will go to their right places on their own. That he's an incredible boy, and you're sure that the person he'll love with a passion of a thousand suns will be the luckiest soul on Earth—!

The screeching sound of footsocks pressing on the wood sends shivers down your spine, all your whirling thoughts sinking into oblivion. Cold wraps around your bones. You're used to people coming and going. Jungkook isn't different from all the men who came after Namjoon. Jungkook is…

Jungkook stays. He's standing there, across from you, hands curling around the hem of his t-shirt. He sits down, using his crossed feet like a cushion, fists laying on his lap.

"I envy your husband," he blows out, with an honesty that makes your muscles tense all at once. "You've got such beautiful eyes when you talk about him. Or when you… think of him." He scratches his head. "I wonder if I'll ever find someone who will look at me like this."

"You will."

He hesitates, nose scrunching a little. "And… What if the only person I want to look at me like this will never do it?" His question lingers between the pair of you like a broken melody out of tune, drenched with an awareness that rips your heart apart. 

You shift your stare on his face, scrutinizing the sombre expression dancing across his features. You're about to tell him that he should go. Panic cripples up your heart and you want to tell him to go. To go back to when he was a stranger and you were the only person treating him like he was invisible. To go back to the big city and live his life at his fullest and—!

A sudden whistle pierces through the silence, capturing your attention. You set your eyes up to the sky, watching a thin sparkling line crossing the dark veil before opening in an ocean of reddish sparks with a blow. 

"They started…" you feel guilty. He could've been witnessing them side by side with the other spectators, breathing in the excitement plaguing the atmosphere if you only didn't have a breakdown. "Namjoon loves them so much…"

"I love them too." A small pout tugs at his lips.

"You should turn, then. You're missing a wonderful sight."

"No. I'm not…"

You swallow. Jungkook stretches and you tilt your head back in the slightest, dizzy for his warm breath fanning against your mouth. "I… I'll go away this weekend. I promise a friend I'll spend it with him," he starts, voice dropping two notches deeper and reverberating through your chest. "But I'll be back on Sunday night. So… Monday morning? Same hour?"

Your heart thumps wildly. 

You nod, tears threatening to roll down. The way he's treating your encounters like a promise between you two… it's a supernova explosion of tenderness that makes you all warm inside. You tell yourself that Jungkook is acting like this because you're the only one he knows. You try to keep in mind that he's doing it because it's summer, he wants to have fun. You remind yourself that all of this will be over within two months.

Two months…

Jungkook turns to the side, his cheek brushes for a second against yours. He rests his head on your shoulder, wrapping you in a feeble embrace. His breath is a nice sound amidst the explosions of the fireworks, the screaming and laughter of kids playing in the street. 

You're touching... happiness. 

You can't get used to this.

[hes-writer]

deja vu

Summary: part two of drivers license!

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1643 words

let me know if you liked it!

_____

If this was a movie, Y/N would’ve collapsed on the floor, knees hitting the ground as her legs lost the ability to keep her weight up. The corners of her lips would tilt downwards as a fusion of sadness and nostalgia bombarded her at every corner. Tears would collect at her waterline, waiting for the remarkable blink that would send each drop of salty liquid down the apples of her cheeks. Y/N imagined she would call Harry on her phone and scream at him as soon as the click sounded, signalling that he had picked up the call.

Yet as seconds passed by, none of those theatrical episodes happened.  Unlike in the movies, Y/N’s physical reactions were minuscule. Her heart ached in her chest. Her throat scrunched like a wad of tissue papers in her hand, drying up with shock and the shallow inhales she let out.  The swirling of her stomach increased tenfold as she teetered between feelings of anger and indifference.  This should not affect her anymore--or should it? It had barely been a few months since she last saw him and a little bit after when the first photos of Harry and his girlfriend went viral on the internet.

Everyone, especially him, seemed to move on from the relationship that they had shared.  Y/N felt like she needed to catch up to him, racing to throw away the feelings she still held for him and to pretend as though nothing happened.  But it was easier said than done.  There were still endless memories that replayed through her head every time she passed by an ice cream shop.  It was a hidden gem, past the popular hot spots.  Not a lot of people knew about it because of its distanced location.  And as much as Harry was a certified health nut; his guilty pleasure was a scoop of strawberry ice cream--in a cup instead of a waffle cone, of course.

Y/N still remembered those drives-turned-beach-trips.  It was mostly during his days off.  She and Harry would spend the whole day together, sharing one spoon amongst each other while they passed the cup of ice cream back and forth. The sound of the ocean encompassed them as they lay hidden around an alcove of rocks. It was a secluded area of the beach that Y/N had found way before.  The sand was grainy beneath the layer of a checkered picnic blanket that Harry kept at the trunk of his car, their bodies laying on top of it.  Eventually, Harry would proceed to just spoon-feed her, ‘accidentally’ nudging her nose with the cold treat.

.

.

.

.

Y/N could feel her shoulders slump at the flashback, body sagging as she sighed at what her phone screen was reflecting back to her.  It was her Instagram feed showcasing Harry’s profile. A picture of a haunting landscape was captured by his phone lens; it was the very same beach spot that she had taken him to.  Deja vu.

She bit her lip, wanting to smile about how he still visited it even without her.  It showed that Harry still kept a memory of her at the back of his mind.  Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, a sliver of hope shining through the dimness of her days. But it was impossible to keep an optimistic stance when she saw the caption.  A simple tag of his new girlfriend’s Instagram handle puckered her lips into a sour expression, brows pinching together in curiosity as Y/N continuously denied the obvious constituent of events.

“There’s no way,” She muttered, breath hitching as Y/N’s thumb hesitated on tapping the bolded font.

There was absolutely no way that Harry would bring someone else in such a coveted spot.  It was hers; she found it first and now he was acting as though it did not hold any meaning to her.  Not like Y/N didn’t spend the last few days laying on his lap, watching the sunset over the horizon. Harry’s fingers would comb through her tendrils, tucking his jacket tighter around her chin to ensure that she was warm despite him being covered in goosebumps himself. Y/N would look up to see the beginning stubbles of his facial hair as Harry looked ahead, his green eyes mirroring the artistic hues of orange, pink and purple.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Jenny asked, returning from her short trek to Y/N’s small kitchen. One hand was carrying a large bowl of chips while the other held two cans of soda.

Y/N stared at her friend with hesitance.  Was it worth bringing it up? She must be sick of her talking about him all the time.

“He brought her to our place,”

It was harder to hear it out loud.  She didn’t even recognize her own voice; void of emotion except for a strained sound of pain.

Jenny tilted her head to the side, “Who did?”

“Harry. . .” Y/N cleared her throat before continuing, “There was this place I found in Malibu. At a beach.  It’s pretty hidden and I used to go there by myself whenever I needed to think. I took him there.  It was our place, you know? Somewhere only the two of us knew and I don’t know,” She trailed off.

“You thought he would keep it between you guys,” Jenny finished off, nodding her head in empathic comprehension.

“Yeah, it just sucks,” Y/N furrowed her brows, staring at the space in front of her as she took in the gravity of the situation. “He even took her to D’Campos,”

“The ice-cream shop?”

She nodded, “It was on her Instagram story today,”

“Forget about him, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your tears,”

“I’m not even crying,” She chuckled, slapping Jenny’s arm jokingly.

“You look like you’re about to,”

Y/N sighed, “It hurts.  Feels like he’s everywhere.  Just when I thought I was moving on, he pulls shit like this and I’m forced to remember how good it was between us, you know? I haven’t driven past D’Campos or anywhere else that I might see him because it hurts too much to reminisce what I don’t have anymore.”

It was ridiculous how much Y/N has had to change her routine in order not to feel any more pain.  She actively avoided places where Harry frequented in fear of confrontation and also because he might be with his girlfriend.  She didn’t know how she could stay stoic seeing their hands clasped together, gazing at each other lovingly when Y/N wanted that from him for herself.

“You’re doing just fine, honey.  Do you know who can’t move on? Him.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s doing fine,” Y/N said sarcastically, resting her back on the couch. “Better, even.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Jenny argued, “Out of the two of you, who’s the one always going to the places you shared?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but a swift hand in the air caused her to halt.

“It’s him, right?” Jenny answered rhetorically.  “I do not care what you say; that man misses you and it shows.  Harry’s going to where he expects you to be, probably in hopes of running into you. Maybe even because he wants to relive the moments you shared together with her in hopes of him feeling the same way he felt like when he did with you,”

“T-that’s insane. He’s fine without me,” Y/N stuttered out, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

“First of all, you are in denial. Secondly, you cannot tell me that he doesn’t. He’s practically doing everything you guys used to do with this new girl.  Why? Because he fucking misses you, Y/N.  Hell, you’ve even got the same name.”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“My ass,” Jenny scoffs, “Answer me something, do you still remember how it felt being there with him?”

Y/N nodded, “Always,”

“Describe it to me,”

Y/N squinted her eyes in suspicion. Where was Jenny going with this?

“Uh, as cheesy as it sounds, I felt happy and free. I could talk about anything without being judged.  He had a way of making me feel comfortable without even saying anything.  When we were together--wherever we were--I could be vulnerable about myself in front of him,”

“Would you do whatever it takes to feel that same way again?”

In a heartbeat, Y/N stated, “Without a doubt.”

“Tell me, if Harry asked you to meet him there right now, would you go?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a moment to process the question. She had just said that she would do whatever it takes to feel the same unconfined emotion again.  So why was she saying ‘no’?

“I-I wouldn’t,”

“Exactly,” Jenny concluded with a quirk of her brow.

“You’re gonna have to explain,”

“Gladly,” Her friend quipped. “You want to feel liberated, vulnerable, and honest again but not necessarily with Harry.  That place meant a lot to you--sure.  But it doesn’t matter.  What counts is who you are with.  Who’s giving you that type of comfortability that you’re able to be just yourself around them. Do you understand?”

Y/N leaned forward in interest.

“You are well aware of that but you won’t accept it. You won’t go with him because you know that it won’t be the same anymore. That’s the first step of moving on.  Once you acknowledge that as much as you miss him, as much as you think you want him to be around, you know better than that. He’s changed and so have you.  He’s searching for that same feeling by going back to the places that you used to go to.  Thinks he will find it there but--,”

“He won’t.” Y/N finished off. “Because she is not me,”

___

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark Legacy

part 01/?? "the only person"

master list

word count 4.3k

an: :3 welcome to a new fic bc idk how to control myself

WARNING: this part does depict alcohol usage, and mentions of other substances a character uses to cope (though nothing is explicitly mentioned).

“An unemployment and housing crisis skyrockets to higher levels as people still struggle to adjust and accommodate the population we had years ago. Streets are littered with people seeking hope-”

“According to world economists, the surge in loan denials is leading to an unprecedented end, leaving the experts scrambling for a way to get the economy back on track, also claiming that the Global Repatriation Council may be asking for too much-”

“Protests break out across Switzerland as support for the group known as the Flag Smashers rises, with the Global Repatriation Council denying any comment on the matter, as well as refusing to comment on the rumours that the newly titled Captain America is investigating the matter-”

“What can we expect from Stark Industries now that Tony Stark is no longer with us? Pepper Potts, while having led the company in a positive direction prior to the Blip, has had no new developments over the last six months. With these newfound challenges the world is facing we’re left to wonder.. Who is going to step up as the ingenious mind behind new innovation? Will the youngest Stark continue on in the steps of father and brother, or are we seeing the end of the Stark Legacy?”

Click.

Silence filled the blue colored cottage that was tucked away at the end of the street in Ransdorp. Though dim and lifeless inside the cottage, outside the sun shined while birds chirped away happily and the sound of children playing echoed through the air. But inside the cottage, all alone, someone stood and tossed a television remote back onto the couch that was once occupied. They shed the blanket that had been wrapped around their shoulders all night while listening to all the different news reports, and entering a small bedroom and dressed in the dark. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and after shuffling through the cottage to grab a few things, the back doors were pushed and locked open, and a breeze blew through the house.

You squinted as you put a sun hat on and oversized sunglasses, overlooking the green oasis you had worked on every day for the last six months. Pushing away the thoughts of what the news had been saying, you stepped down onto the wooden patio that lined the back door and carried a hefty packed bag with you to the garden you had planted. You set the bag down and kneeled into the soft grass, and got to work on picking on fresh vegetables to use for your dinner later. Lucky for you, the soil was perfect here.

So… How have the last six months been for you?

Well the garden was a distraction your neighbor had suggested after finally catching you one day while throwing out a bag full of alcohol bottles you had consumed. You could see her take a second glance over your disheveled appearance, but she ignored it for the most part (which thankfully she did, you were a little sick of people telling you how to feel at the time). Naturally, instead of working through your problems, you distracted yourself from them.

But in all honesty… It’s been hard. Maybe it was selfish of you to think so, but you felt like you had been dealt one of the shittiest hands from the universe. The pressure from the world after… After Tony’s death was suffocating. As more paparazzi followed you around, the worse that anxiety had gotten. With that newfound attention, you had also been summoned by the United States government to attest for your time as a HYDRA agent. Lucky for you, in some way, they dropped any serious charges due to your restraint under the program, but sentenced you to weekly therapy sessions (since SHIELD had denied to disclose your mental capabilities). To your knowledge, Bucky Barnes had been offered a similar deal. The therapy lasted all of a month before you… Negotiated your way out of it, and returned to this safe place.

You drowned yourself in drinks and other activities after leaving New York, which in turn made your black-out episodes reappear, which had become evident as the photographed wall in your second bedroom started to be crossed out fast. You couldn’t help but twitch at the thought, and steered clear of that subject. But as of five months ago, you were all but cut off from all things Avengers.

Everyone had gone their own separate ways for the most part. Wanda was off the radar, Sam had gone and gotten a contract with the Air Force, Clint got his family back, Rhodey was some top notch Air Force guy (you didn’t really know what he was up to nowadays), Thor was gone offworld, Scott was making up for lost time with his family, and Bucky… Well, you didn’t know much about that situation either. Sam had tried to reach out after everything, but in one of your drunken states you threw your phone in the Weersloot river. You didn’t need a reminder of that day, or those few weeks even.

You never played the message Happy had given you from Tony. You never had the courage to do so, and you had it tucked away in your room safe and sound. Honestly? You were starting to think you never would be ready to hear what Tony had to say to you before he died. You just couldn’t bear to hear it, never would… Because if he even mentioned someone’s name you didn’t know how you would react.

When you started to think about Steve, you picked up a drink to take your mind off it. You had yet to come to terms with him leaving, because it still hurt like the day it happened.

Losing Tony was the worst thing that could’ve happened in your eyes. He was your family, though Pepper and Morgan had become your family too, Tony was the last piece of your family you could hold onto. The last shred to the past you fought so hard to remember and cherish, and now him and that part of you was gone. He was your everything. He always would be.

But Steve? Losing Steve wasn’t something you had ever even considered. While Tony was your soul, Steve was your heart. Despite everything you two had been through, the feelings hurt and the years it took to make it back together, Steve always had your heart. He was the man you wanted to fall asleep with and wake up to. He was the man you talked about growing old with, what life would be like if he gave up the Captain America mantle, he was supposed to be your future...

And then he stayed in the past, and left you here confused. Hurt. Alone.

You lost the two people you had left in the world. Your heart and your soul. And it was the most devastating blow you had ever felt… Everyday you wondered how someone comes back from something like that, if it was even possible.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a hefty softball landed in a thud in your garden and smushed one of your little tomatoes. You blinked at the sight before grabbing the ball and looking up to see the familiar short boy next door pulling himself up on the fence that separated your yard from his, and you grabbed a rag from your bag and wiped the softball off.

“Je vernielt in zijn eentje mijn tuin, weet je,” (You’re single-handedly ruining my garden, you know) you said to the boy and looked up at him through your sunglasses.

“Vergeef mij,” (Forgive me) he said and rested his head on his hands to watch you finish wiping his ball off. “Mijn vader wilde niet met mij spelen” (My dad wouldn’t play with me).

You stopped wiping for a moment and could see the sad look in the kids face. You smiled softly and stood, making your way over to the fence and handing him his ball back, though his expression didn’t change.

“Vraag het me de volgende keer dat je wilt spelen, oké?” (Next time you want to play, come ask me, okay?) You told him, and the smile reappeared on his face and he gave you a nod. You ruffled his hair as he jumped back off the fence and played once again. You went back to your bag, now full with vegetables, and picked it up to head back inside. You had a sweet pasta recipe to try tonight, and you think what you selected should work great-

You stopped in your tracks right before the back door. You lowered your sunglasses and lowered your gaze to the ground as you tried to focus on the sound in the air, the shift in the environment. You may have been slightly hungover but the presence was not hard to miss. You straightened your stance and gripped your sunglasses in your fist.

“Sam?” You called out. At first there wasn’t any rustling, but after a few moments you heard your back gate unlock and creak open, and that’s when you could hear the extra set of footsteps. You slowly turned around to face who had finally tracked you down, and were met with Sam Wilson… And Bucky Barnes in tow.

“What are you doing here?” You more so asked Sam. The pair glanced at one another and Bucky nodded his head at his partner in crime (God, you could just tell they were up to something) and Sam shoved his hands into the jacket he had been wearing.

“We came to see you, check in on how you’re doing,” Sam said. You chuckled a bit, and shook your head.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you called him out. “What are you really doing here?”

“We need your help,” Bucky said. You bit your tongue and looked them over, maybe just a little curious as to what was going on. Just a little. “We stumbled onto something that I think you may have some information on.”

You hummed to yourself for a moment, thinking it over. Truthfully, the last thing you needed was whatever this was. So you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “I’m afraid I can’t help, but thanks for thinking of me.”

You turned your back on them and stepped up a couple steps into your house, and was all but ready to close the door to the world and close yourself off from Sam and Bucky, but Bucky took a step forward.

“There’s more super soldiers out there,” Bucky said in a serious tone. You stopped in your tracks, gripping onto your door for a few moments before looking back out to the pair. Bucky was watching you intently, in a stare you had only seen on him once before (which you didn’t want to recount at the moment). There was movement near the fence, and your eyes darted there to see the neighbor boy peeping his head over to see what was going on. When his gaze met yours, and you gave him “the look” he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared, and you looked back at the pair standing in your yard and against all better judgement, motioned your head behind you. Understanding your cue, Sam led the way inside, and you shut the door quickly behind Bucky.

You moved around the burly super soldier and brushed past Sam to set your bag of veggies in your kitchen. You had to take a moment to compose yourself before facing the duo who had been watching you intently. “Okay.. Go on. What do you mean there’s more super soldiers?”

Sam grabbed something from his pocket, a phone it looked like, and pulled something up before handing you the device. You hesitantly took it and looked down at the phone, where a video began playing of the recent Gasel Bank heist. You watched as someone got beaten to the ground, but what was astonishing was the sheer strength the masked person showed. Captivated, you carried the device into the living room and plopped down into the cushions of your sofa and watched more footage, this time up close from what you could guess were Dumb and Dumber who moved to hover over you.

“We were hoping you might know something,” Sam said. You handed his phone back to him which he graciously accepted, and you tapped your fingers together in thought before looking over at Bucky.

“What makes you think I know anything?” You asked. Bucky seemed to huff in annoyance at your questioning him, in all honesty you just wanted to hear him say it.

“You and I both know what went into the replication of that serum, your program especially,” Bucky said. You felt a lump form at the back of your throat and you casted your eyes downward. “You were still there after me… Did they perfect Stark’s serum?”

You looked back up at his question, and you held his gaze for a moment. You couldn’t believe this was how your day was turning, and you were pissed that he of all people were bringing up your past, like you volunteered for any of that shit.  You lightly bounced your leg as you fought to remember what you had known.

“HYDRA had been unsuccessful in using my father’s formula of the serum again, even after you managed to escape their hold,” you started. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat and leaned back into the couch, averting your gaze from Bucky to the floor as you searched your memory. “They brought in a scientist, but it wasn’t my op, and it was on a need to know basis. The only reason we knew they started the research again was they started taking people from the Phantom program to test the serum on.”

“Phantom program?” Sam asked.

“That’s what they called us,” you mumbled. “All of us were deemed dead so… It was only fitting.”

“Did the scientist perfect the serum?” Bucky asked. You shrugged your shoulders and met his look again.

“Didn’t think so,” you answered honestly. “So if there’s serum still out there, he has to be your guy. Though I can say I didn’t see any kind of sign of that activity when working with SHIELD.”

“But it’s a start,” Sam nodded and Bucky looked his way. The two started sharing odd glances, and you watched in confusion. Sam suddenly looked your way and motioned around. “Think you could spare some time and do this mission with us?”

“Sam-” Bucky began to say as a warning, but you chuckled a bit which made him stop.

“I don’t do this anymore,” you told them as you motioned between them.

“Come on (Y/N),” Sam tried to reason as you stood up and walked your way back into the kitchen and opened up a cabinet in search of tonight’s bottle of wine to go with dinner. “I get that you’re going through it, I really do, but-”

Just as you managed to select the perfect medium-bodied red wine, Sam had come up beside you and took the bottle out of your hand. “This isn’t going to help you.”

“Yeah Sam and what is?” You asked while crossing your arms. “Because right now the only thing that would help me out is to see my brother again but guess what! It’s not going to fucking happen! It’s just me, here, and all by myself. All by myself…”

Your words trailed off as a heaviness grew in your chest. The atmosphere in the room was a lot more stuffy, and you would rather curl up and disappear then let Sam (and Bucky) see you cry. But here you fucking were, with Sam seeing the tears build up in your eyes and the look he gave you, you wanted to be mad but the only thing that you could seem to feel was just sad. You blinked back the feeling and took a glance back at Bucky, who stood in your living room and averted his gaze. You looked back at Sam, and put on the best front you could.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night, someone can take the bed in my room and someone can take the couch, but tomorrow? We go our separate ways again,” you said in a low tone. Sam’s look at you was… Disappointment. Before the sentiment could settle on your already guilty conscience you turned around and grabbed your keys and a peacoat and stopped at the front door. “Help yourselves to whatever you need.”

With that, you pulled the door open and just as swiftly shut behind you. The cottage walls shook for a moment before settling to a silence inside. Sam looked down at the bottle in his hand and set it back onto the counter before looking Bucky’s way, who still looked annoyed.

“What?” Bucky defensively asked when he noticed Sam’s stare. Sam shook his head at him and pushed the wine bottle to the back of the counter.

“You pushed that too hard,” Sam said, to which Bucky scoffed.

“Me? You’re the one who asked her to join us which, by the way, where did that come from?” Bucky questioned as Sam came back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Sam leaned forward with his arms on his legs and rubbed his hands together.

“Take a look around Robo-cop,” Sam emphasized and Bucky let out an annoyed sigh. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?”

Bucky looked around at your surroundings. He wouldn’t peg it as chaotic, but he also couldn’t pin it as put together. There were personal touches here and there, but it didn’t feel like you belonged here. Bucky wasn’t blind to what was going on here, but he also didn’t see how that pertained to what Sam was suggesting.

“Sam, we came for some information, we got it, so why don’t you tell me what you’re trying to say,” Bucky replied. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back into the cushions.

“We let her come here, by herself, even knowing how devastated she was after Tony died,” Sam explained. Bucky’s eyes darted to the floor at the memory of him following you out to that shed the day of Tony’s funeral, and the empty expression your eyes held. “Hell, we don’t even know how she felt about Steve. We should’ve been here for this. And that makes us shitty friends.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say we’re friends-”

“Oh I’m sorry, who's the one that said she owed you a favor?” Sam asked and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I did, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Nah ah,” Sam cut him off and Bucky rolled his eyes. “If you two owe one another favors, then your friends.”

“That’s sound logic, Sam,” Bucky sarcastically said.

You tossed your glass bottle of whatever the hell it was you drank earlier into a trash can on your way back home. You pulled your keys out of your jacket pocket and jingled them around until you found your house key and hipped quietly. Your cottage was just in view and all the lights were out. You grumbled to yourself as you neared, forced to remember what had happened earlier in the day (and boy did you work hard to forget that Sam and bucky were at your lace haha). You stumbled up the two steps to your door and used the wall to steady yourself, before quietly shoving your key into the door and pushed the door open.

It took a second to adjust to the environment, but the whole cottage was pitch black, besides whatever light from the moon managed to filter in. You carefully walked around the couch and glanced down at who occupied it, and when you saw Sam peacefully asleep you then looked at the door to your room and shuddered at the fact Bucky must’ve taken residence in there. You huffed a bit, and pulled a spare blanket out of a basket and moved to the back door. When you finally got outside and shut the door to not disturb your guest you tossed your blanket onto the patio sofa you had and kicked your shoes off.

After shedding yourself of your peacoat and plopping down on the hard cushions, you inwardly cursed the two men inside. You were doing just fine before their arrival, you had a schedule of self loathing and drinking then sleeping that they were interrupting. You just weren’t looking forward to the repercussions of tonight’s sleep. You laid back across the sofa and looked up at the sky, though nothing was there anymore. Or at least there wasn’t anything you could see.

Let’s be honest here. The reason you had turned to drinking was because of the fuzzy feeling you got after awhile. Your mind got to drift to something else besides the memories of your past, like… what to drink next, or in this case, is that a star or an airplane? It made the moment more simple, it made you forget who you were until you woke up again. That didn’t mean you didn’t resent yourself for your actions, but you just added that to the list of reasons why your endgame was the best resolution. You just weren’t ready to tell anyone what that endgame was.

Your gate creaked and you tilted your head to look in that direction. You could barely make out the figure as they neared, Bucky’s face became more clear. You looked back up to the sky and shook your head a bit to yourself. Bucky came to a stop close to you, and sighed a bit.

“You should go inside,” He said quietly.

“You should just leave me alone,” you quipped back to him. Though you couldn’t see it, Bucky rolled his eyes at your drunken response. You suddenly felt a lot more sober, and you turned your head to face him. “You had no right, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked and you huffed.

“You had no right to bring up the Phantom program. I didn’t tell anyone about that, not even Tony,” you admitted to him. Bucky bit his tongue and looked up at the sky for a moment to collect himself. “I didn’t want anyone to go digging into the extent of that.”

“I didn’t know,” Bucky admitted. You blinked at him as he caught your gaze again. “Look… I’m sorry.”

You fell silent before letting out a small sigh and adjusting yourself to be a little more comfortable, your head finally starting to feel dizzy again. But Bucky wasn’t ready to settle this, he shifted his weight and turned to face you.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Bucky asked. Your eyes fluttered back open and you looked over at him. He had taken a step closer, and hovered over you, and you raised a brow.

“What are you talking about?” You asked him this time.

“The drinking,” Bucky pointed out. You huffed and turned your head in the opposite direction into the cushions, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to help you know.”

“Yeah and how would you know?” You asked and looked back at him. Bucky leaned down to get in your face, and you tried to move back from him.

“Because I’m probably the only person who really knows what’s going on in your head.”

You bit your tongue, and Bucky backed off. In a bit of a daze, you plopped back down onto the cushions and pulled the blanket you brought out up to your chin. Bucky rolled his eyes at you shutting him down, and he moved to the door to go inside. The sooner the morning came and Sam and he could leave, the better for him.

“I never blamed you, you know,” you said in a light voice. Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked over at you. Your eyes were closed, and you were breathing evenly. Bucky retracted his hand from the door knob and took a couple steps closer. He needed to hear that again.

“What did you say?” He asked. You stirred a bit, but didn’t answer him. Carefully, Bucky used his gloved hand to touch your shoulder, and give you a small shake. When you still didn’t say anything, Bucky sighed and looked between the door and you and cursed in his head.

Bucky carefully slid an arm under your shoulders, and then hooked his other under your legs. He hoisted you up into his arms and into his chest, and your head rolled into his arm. Bucky shook his head at it and carefully brought you back inside, and past the couch, and pushed your room door open with his foot. Bucky sat himself on the edge of your bed and balanced you in his lap with one arm, and pulled your blankets open with a free hand. When he finally got you into your own bed, he took the blanket you had outside from you and tossed it onto his shoulder, and pulled the blankets on the bed onto you. Bucky stood from your bed, and before leaving the room he took a final glance at you as you stirred just slightly.

Bucky closed your door, and walked back towards the couch and settled himself onto the floor. As his back met the floor, he couldn’t help but wonder if you meant what you said, about not blaming him for what happened. One thing he did know was he meant what he said. Bucky stared at the door to the second room in the house, and he shook his head.

If there was one person he truly wanted to make amends with, it was you. After all, you were on his list of names.

- - - - - - - - - -

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[yutahoes]

Genius

pairing : dad! Yuta Nakamoto x mom! Reader, Shiho, Shin (ft. NCT 127 Members)

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

taglist:  (The Yuta’s Angels team) @ailoveyuta @aiforyuu @yutazen01 @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @nuoyipeach @dreamlesswonder86 @loona-4-eva

a/n: Welcome to another episode of dad! Yuta. I miss writing for Shiho. I tried my best to put all members of NCT 127 but I might make another one where it’s more focused on them. I also feel bad that I can’t post some AUs lately so I’ll post two scenarios today and ghost you all. 😂

Yuta watched in amusement as little six-year-olds started going out of the door in a line. They’re so cute. But what made him grinned widely is seeing his daughter, smiling. He doesn’t believe it at first when you claimed that your daughter is indeed enjoying school. But here she is, the sunshine of his life, beaming widely.

“Daddy!” She called, running to him. He was quick to carry her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

He should really pick her up from school more often now. “Hi, princess. Did you have fun today?” Shiho nodded. Yuta opened the door of the car then helped her put on her seatbelt. Her bag was next to her and Yuta smiled at how it was creatively done. Truly, a one-of-a-kind bag. “I got you this.” Shiho smiled when he handed her two yellow roses wrapped in pink paper. 

The younger giggled, looking at the flowers as Yuta started dashing to the driver’s seat of the car. “Thank you, daddy.” She said when he started putting on his seatbelt. “Did you get mommy some flowers also?” 

“Later,” Yuta answered then adjusted the mirror in front to see Shiho who was just smiling at him. “Mommy is going to the doctors with Shin.”

The happy expression was replaced with a worried one and he smiled. “Is mommy sick?” Yuta shook his head. “Is Shin okay?” 

Yuta nodded, smiling at her. “The doctor just needed to check if Shin is healthy. He’s fine.” He assured. “Can you come with daddy to practice today? Then we’ll meet mommy and Shin for dinner later.” 

“We’re going to SM?” She asked, wide-eyed. Her dad chuckled, she’s too happy. “Is Mark oppa going to be there?” Surprisingly, he can hear your voice saying, ‘You’re really the same. Even Shiho is obsessed with Mark.’ 

--

The Japanese NCT member was smiling to himself when they entered the building and Shiho is becoming a real darling greeting all the staff with a bow and a ‘Good afternoon’. “Taeillie, Johnny samchon, Taeyonggie, Yuta…” She was singing the name of each member of her dad’s group inside the elevator that made Yuta chuckle. “Doyoung samchon, Jaehyunnie, Jungwoo oppa, Mark oppa, Haechannie...” 

“Who taught you that song?” Yuta asked and she mentioned your name. “Why am I just Yuta? You call them samchon and oppa.”

“I’m not yet done.” Shiho revolted then giggled. “My handsome daddy Yuta who loves mommy, Shiho, and Shin.” Yuta grinned. “Winwin oppa, Jungwoo oppa, and Mark oppa, too.” She continued that made him laugh. Why are you like this? He’s going to make this a really long night for the two of you.

When the father-daughter entered the practice room, the other guys ran to where Shiho is that made the younger giggle. She showed the flowers to Jungwoo, and Jaehyun asked her what she did at school. Yuta put her bag on one corner of the room, next to his things, then watched his daughter in adoration. 

He remembered when he first formally introduced you to the guys, they had the same reaction. He never actually saw you the whole night because they kept on talking to you. If not for Doyoung, you wouldn’t have some alone time that night. But that was the time he first realized how much he really liked you. Who would have thought that he’ll have the same feelings while watching his daughter interact with the guys he calls his brothers? 

“Where is Mark oppa?” Shiho innocently asked that made Johnny laugh, teasing Yuta that she is indeed his daughter. The youngest kept on thanking Haechan who gave her a strawberry smoothie that he bought with Mark. Taeil gave her some papers to kill time in drawing, even asking her to draw him. 

Yuta smiled at the younger girl, crouching down beside her in the practice room. “Will you be alright here? Daddy will just practice.” He said while Taeyong called everyone for practice. Shiho nodded, grinning at him with her toothy smile. 

Surprisingly, she really behaved while they were practicing the choreography for their new song in Japanese. Doyoung was just smiling, noticing how she bobbed her head along with the song while busy with her paper and crayons. "You'll probably have a little idol soon." Jaehyun teased. 

This is something that you and Yuta have talked about over and over. What if Shiho wanted to be an idol? As cool as you are, you just wanted to support her whatever she wanted in the future. And he wanted to be as cool as you so he promised to be okay with it. 

--

You were seated on the couch in the lobby when Yuta and Shiho exited the elevator with the other members. Your daughter was running to you, giving her little brother kisses that made you giggle. "Did Shin cry in the doctors?" You nodded your head at her question. "I'm sorry noona can't come with you." She whispered. You smiled at that, she’s really growing up. 

"Hi." You greeted Yuta who gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. "Are you tired? Should we go home?" He shook his head, telling you that you needed to eat dinner since you're all outside. Your husband asked you to take the bags that he placed on the couch as he carried Shin in his arms. You bowed at the other members, thanking them for taking care of Shiho.

Yuta was driving the family car, Shin and Shiho on their child seats. "You should have seen daddy dancing, mommy. He looks mashitta." You giggled at that. It must be really hard for Shiho to learn different languages at once. 

"Honey, daddy is meoshitta. Mashitta is delicious." Her eyes widened in the mistake she did that made you smile. "Maybe daddy is also mashitta, do you want to bite daddy?" You teased that made the six-year-old chuckle. Yuta just shook his head, laughing. 

He decided to grab dinner in a kids' café near your home. Shin was on a high chair and Shiho was next to him, eating her meal. Once done, she asked if she could play on the slide that made Yuta nod. You needed to tire her out or she'll just stay up all night. Kids' energy really is no joke. 

"I can feed, Shin. You should eat more." Yuta volunteered, moving his chair near your son so he could reach him. You only stared at him, smiling as he gave your son some breadsticks to munch on. "I know that look. Do you want me to feed you?" He teased and you nodded, grinning like a small child. 

He twirled some spaghetti using a fork then fed you that made him giggle. "Did Shiho bother you earlier? I'm sorry, I should have brought her with me to the doctor." 

Yuta shook his head, smiling. "She's really behaved earlier." He explained then gave you some breadsticks as well. "I already feel bad that you had to bring Shin to the doctor alone. Next time we can do this set-up." You nodded, it really is easier since you only focused on one child. "So what did the doctor say?" 

You shared what the doctor said, about his teeth growing and his increasing weight and height. "Yuta, I was thinking. Should we transfer to Japan?" He glanced at her in surprise. Why so sudden? "I wanted Shiho to learn Japanese." 

"I can teach her Japanese." Yuta volunteered. "We're doing fine here. And Shiho is enjoying school here." He held her cheek. "She will eventually learn Japanese. We can go on a vacation to Osaka on her break." 

"Don't worry about it, love. She's still struggling with Korean, Japanese will be easy for her." 

--

You always trust Yuta in his decisions especially when it comes to your children. When you're planning to have a child, both your parents would always tell you to talk to each other when it comes to your child. That they matter the most. And it was something that you always keep in mind. 

It was a weekend night. Yuta just finished up some things in the office before heading home. You were washing the dishes when you heard a certain voice humming. “Shiho.” You called from the kitchen hearing the six-year-old singing a song. You knew she sings great, something that she got from your husband. But she was singing an unfamiliar song in a foreign language. "What are you singing? Did you learn it from school?" 

She shook her head, still focused on the task on her book. "This is daddy's song." You knew all the songs on their past albums. But this is relatively new. You decided to listen more and was surprised that she's singing in Japanese. They do have a Japanese comeback but why would Shiho know that song? "I heard it while the uncles were practicing." But how can she even memorize all that? 

A jiggle of the keys was what you heard while folding the laundry, Yuta gave you a kiss on the top of your head. "Are they asleep?" 

You shook your head then held your husband's hand, guiding him to Shiho's room. "Listen." You could hear her voice singing to the song she had been singing all day. Yuta's eyes widened in surprise. "Is it really your song?" 

He nodded. Not only does she pronounce the words clearly, but she was also clearly in tune. But how? Yuta never played the song in the house. She only heard it while practicing. "Did you give birth to a genius? Her pronunciation is even better than yours." You raised an eyebrow at that. "And she's in tune." 

"I do think our children are geniuses. Shin even said mama today." 

"He did?" 

"But Shiho was the one who heard it." 

Yuta smiled, pulling you closer. "They're getting bigger. Maybe it's time for another genius." 

You just shook your head smiling at him. "Put Shiho to sleep first and I'll finish things here." Yuta grinned, opening the door to his daughter's room.  

You had to laugh at yourself. To think that you're worried about Shiho not learning Japanese. Yet, here she is proving you otherwise. She might really be a genius. 

Your children might really be geniuses. Can your family be any more perfect? 

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 5-9

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 5 - 9

A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter)

Scene 5

"My mother immediately took out a syringe after sitting on the bench and injected herself. I was startled."

"That must have been rough..."

There was compassion in Tifa's eyes and voice.

According to her definition of a mother, Ifalna would be a "really good-natured person". However, she was different back then.

"Even though I knew she wasn't well, I only worried about myself."

"You were a child..."

"I know..."

Aerith fell silent. It cannot be helped since she was just a child. Thus, there were a number of regrets that she did not want to simply put away.

"Ah! My bad, my bad! Shall I continue?"

"Sure. Please."

"The medicine worked, and we walked on for hours in the Sector 4 Slums, taking a break at times. Then we saw an information board that said ‘Sector 5 Slums’."

Scene 6

"Mummy, it says this is the Sector 5 slums. The house is in Sector 3, isn't it?"

"Nope. This is fine."

"But the new house is in Sector 3, right?" 

"Aerith, let's hurry up a little. It's going to be nighttime."

"Where are we going? Where are we hurrying to?"

Without answering, Ifalna tightly grasped Aerith's hand and hastened her steps.

Many questions surfaced. Eventually, Ifalna started speaking silently.

"I've heard that there's a church in the Sector 5 Slums. In the past, people gathered here and prayed to God, but nobody comes here anymore. I've been thinking that we should hide here a little..."

"I've heard about God! Does he really exist?" Aerith was surprised.

"According to his believers, he does. I heard that when they pray, they get empowered."

"Pray...?"

"It's something like us Cetra speaking to the planet, although I don’t really understand it. But, since no one is coming to the church anymore, there probably aren't any believers. It's too bad for God, but it seems like it's great for our situation."

"We'll wait for Fuzz at the church?"

Ifalna stayed quiet for a while, then shook her head.

"We can't cause any more trouble than this."

"What about the new home?"

"We will not live there."

"Fuzz would be disappointed, wouldn't he?

"He probably will be."

"Are you okay with it, Mama?"

"As long as you're around, I'm okay."

Aerith thought that those were surprisingly comforting words. But that didn't mean that she didn't feel bad for Fuzz, nor had she gotten over the guilt of betraying him. However, after the thought that she didn't have to live seeing injections, medicine and backhand kisses, she felt a sense of relief.

"Let's go to the station first. I only know the way from there."

"Should we ask someone?"

"Nope. We don’t want anyone to know our whereabouts."

↞↠

There are times when there's not enough sunlight in the slums, as the plate was blocking them out. A giant lamp called the sun lamp makes up for that shortage. However, the light that was seen in the morning and afternoon was just like the actual sunlight. While she was amazed at her mother’s explanation, she also felt anxious. The evening was drawing near. She felt that something terrifying would happen if they didn't make it to church by sundown. A terrifying thing that she, too, couldn't imagine. 

"Aerith, that looks like the station."

Aerith looked over. A train was about to depart. Unlike the Sector 4 Slums Station, Sector 5's Slums Station seemed like a small station with only a platform. There were probably a few commuters departing from the trains, and there weren't many passers-by too. 

"Alright then, which way should we..."

Should we go? Those were the words she probably was going to say.

Without finishing her sentence, Ifalna sluggishly collapsed to the ground.

"Mummy?!"

Aerith's voice gathered the looks of her surroundings. However, nobody moved over to help.

Ifalna's breathing was heavy, and after touching her, Aerith realised she had a fever. A high fever.

"Mummy, where's your medicine?"

"I've... used them all..."

It was a desperate situation. What should Aerith do?

“Are you alright? Mummy?”

Ifalna said something from her painful breath. Aerith couldn’t hear it, so she brought her ears close to her lips. She only felt a hot sigh in her ears. What should she do? What should she do? Aerith's head became loaded with "What should I do". Her mother uttered something again, and Aerith heard that she's alright. But she was definitely not alright. However, what should she do? She wondered if anyone could help them, like how someone did at the Sector 4 Slums Station. Aerith lifted her head and looked for someone who seemed like they could help, but no one was paying attention to them. Would you please help us? Would you please look over here? These words come and go in Aerith's head. My mummy is sick. She has a fever. Please help us. Please, help us, please! However, she couldn't speak out.

"I'm sorry..." Ifalna muttered out. "We were... in the middle of an adventure..."

Please do not say such words.

"No!"

Her emotions overflowed in her voice.

“Are you sick?”

Looking back, there stood a man in faded and dirty clothes.

"Let's move her over there. She's blocking the way here."

Without waiting for a reply, he sprang into action. 

He inserted his hands under both sides of Ifalna, lying face up, and started to back away.

Ifalna was being pulled along and had her shoe fall off her foot. Aerith picked the shoe up and gave them chase. 

"Be more gentle!"

The man didn't change his expression and continued to pull her along. He sat her leaning against the station platform.

"Call a doctor."

"Where can we find one?"

"I don’t know, if it were me, I would shout out loud to find one."

The man turned back, and he really shouted out.

"Is there a doctor!"

However, there was no response.

"Well, all the best."

And just like that, the man went off without looking back.

"Oh, my goodness."

A well-dressed man and woman came over and looked at Ifalna scrutinisingly. 

"Are you doctors?"

"No, we're not."

"That person, is she your Mama?"

"Shouldn't we quickly call out for a doctor?"

"Don't you have any medicine?"

While listening to both of them, her mother's words came to mind. The truly good people are those that act on it and give help. The people here weren’t them.

"Mummy wait here. I'm calling a doctor over."

Aerith ran while looking as though she was being crushed by anxiety.

"Is there a doctor?"

She exclaimed in the direction of a lot of people.

"Is there a doctor?"

Looking back, she was a long way away from the station. She then heard the voices of men and women. It was a cheerful-like group who walked over. She decided to ask them, and if that didn't work, she would head back to the station. Aerith ran.

She was about to ask them was there a doctor. Then she saw a youth turning around and coming close to her.

"Hey, I've told you so!" the man continued walking back towards her. "And yet..."

Aerith hurriedly tried to avoid him but did not make it in time, the man's butt struck her face, and she fell over. The men and women gathered their gaze on Aerith.

"Go home and sleep, kid!" exclaimed the man who bumped into Aerith, and his friends burst out laughing.

She absentmindedly got up while hearing the laughter of the leaving group. She felt frustrated, sad, angry and miserable.

"Are you alright?"

Aerith looked back, and there was a woman who seemed to look over worriedly. The simple, tied up hair behind her head swayed. 

"I'm okay. Do you know a doctor?"

She noticed that she herself was crying and wiped away her own tears. 

"I live in the outskirts, so I don't know any doctors around here."

Aerith gave her thanks and started to walk away. Whenever she was asked whether she was alright, she only could reply that she was alright. She wondered how many times she asked her mother that.

"Mummy. I'm sorry..."

Aerith ran towards the station.

Upon returning, she saw that her mother's body was covered with a blanket. A "good person" must have appeared and covered her with it. However, seeing her mother's painful state, she felt as though her chest became crushed. Her fever was so hot, she couldn’t even keep touching her. 

"Mummy."

Even after she called out, Ifalna was still looking at the vast sky.

"Aerith. Are you here?"

"I'm here."

Ifalna's eyes searched for Aerith, and she grabbed her.

"This..." Ifalna pulled out a small pouch from her clothes and held it out.

"I got this from my dad, who got it from his mum, who also got it from her mum. It's not good for anything at all, but it has always been around, connecting us Cetra."

Aerith's chest became flaring hot.

"No. I don't want it."

If she takes it, it'll all be over. She had a strong hunch.

"Well... My life is ending soon. I'm returning to the Planet."

Ifalna's hand that was holding out the bag was trembling, and then it finally fell.

"Don't be sad. Even from here on out, I'll be by your side"

"Mummy."

"Are you alright?"

The voice came from above. She looked up towards the voice, and it was a woman, the same woman who called out to Aerith when she fell.

All of a sudden, Ifalna moved. She raised her upper body and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Take... Aerith... somewhere safe."

She said it with such a powerful voice that made Aerith wonder where she left that strength.

However, in the next moment, Ifalna's body became empty. Her spirit left her body, leaving her flesh and bones without its' host.

"Ah..." Aerith muttered without thinking.

Aerith repeated her mother's words in her head. Don't be sad. I'm returning to the Planet. I'll be by your side. Connecting us. She knew. Even though she knew, her chest still stung. Her tears were flowing down, and she let out her cry. Her body hurt and was also trembling. Someone was stroking her back.

Suddenly, the surroundings became busy. Aerith lifted her head and saw a train slipping into the platform with a roaring sound. 

"Let's leave here."

The woman said as she firmly pulled Aerith's hand, forcing her up her feet. Aerith quickly picked up the pouch.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

The woman pulled Aerith's arm as she hurriedly tried to leave the station. She remembered being pulled by Ifalna and crossing the railway tracks. She wondered where this hand would take her. 

Mummy, goodbye. 

From here on out, they'll probably still be together. That was probably right. However, Aerith would not be able to feel that body anymore. She was not allowed to feel that body anymore because the form of her mother's life was different. 

"Mummy!"

She turned back and yelled out to her mother, but the pull of her hand became stronger. She saw that the train stopped. When the door opened, Shinra troopers and men in white coats vigorously alighted. 

"Let's run."

When the woman saw that Aerith wasn't moving, she picked her up roughly and started running.

↞↠

When they eventually approached the centre of the slums, the woman finally lowered Aerith. 

"Are you able to walk?"

Aerith nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry I couldn't properly let you say goodbye."

 Aerith shook her head. 

"I'm truly sorry that I had to leave your mother there and head off."

The woman had a sincerely apologetic look on her face. Aerith nodded again.

"You poor thing."

"My mother only just returned to the Planet, so I'm not sad."

"Ahh... It seems that there are people who do think of it that way. Even so, it's sad to be separated, isn't it?"

"Nope. It is because I can still meet her."

"I see. Well then, firstly, let's go to my house, shall we? When you're there, you can cry all you want."

Scene 7

"But I didn't cry at all."

After Aerith said that, Tifa gave her a dubious-like look.

"My house, you've been there before, right? The one in the Sector 5 Slums."

"Yup. I've been there."

"There were lots of flowers, weren't there?"

"Yup!"

"When I went there for the first time, I was also welcomed by the flowers. Really, I felt that. I felt the Planet, and I felt my mother. That's why I didn’t have to cry. What I left behind wasn't my mother. My mother was here."

Tifa tilted her neck and was puzzled.

"I've been saying weird things, haven't I?"

Aerith laughed.

"I think it's strange, but it isn't weird."

"Thank you. I thought that you'd say that. That's why I'm able to talk."

Tifa felt something at the back of her nose.

"Hey! Hey!" Aerith wanted to change the mood. "My house was huge, wasn't it? For a house in the slums."

"Yeah! More than just being splendid, I thought that it was a proper house. It doesn't look like a house in the Slums nor a house in Midgar."

"That's right. The house belonged to Elmyra's father-in-law. People said that her father-in-law was an influential man. How do I describe him... A Corneo who isn’t bad.”

"A Corneo who isn’t bad?" Tifa repeated herself.

"Ahhh, it's impossible. The impression is too bad."

"Yeah. Only Corneo's face comes to mind."

"I've failed. Think of a more gentlemanly face. Anyone besides Corneo would be fine."

"I'll try."

It seemed that Tifa was really trying. However, she slipped out a laugh.

"Hmmm?"

"I don't know many guys who are gentlemanly."

Scene 8

Aerith, who knows little about the landscape of the slums, also quickly realised that it was a unique and special place unlike any other. It was a land with lots of nature. Plants grew on the levelled three-dimensional terrain, and even flowers were blooming. It was a stunning scenery for Aerith, who only knew flowers in vases or potted plants.

They travelled through the garden and started walking down the wooden plank, which was laid out to make a path. Aerith then felt someone stroking her hands and legs. She didn’t feel uneasy and fearful. There was a gentle and calm feeling on her heart, or perhaps her head.

"Who are you?"

The wind was blowing and brushed Aerith's cheek. Her heart was filled with joy.

"Did you say something?" Elmyra Gainsborough, who had already introduced herself on the road, turned her head around.

"Nope."

"I see..." Elmyra started walking again.

"There’s lots of grass, aren't there? It's an old plot of land, and it was left like that. There are lots of flowers blooming too. It's still blooming now, but these kinds are just beginning to bloom."

Aerith thought of a garden with lots of flowers and was delighted. 

"I've been cutting and pulling them, but they are stubborn. It's hard because insects come too."

"I think it's good as it is."

"Well, but I'm giving up."

Elmyra's house was an old solid wooden building. They entered by opening an elaborately constructed double door with glass mounted on its' upper half.

Her day was filled with first time experiences since she left the Shinra Building. Above all, this experience of entering another person's house for the first time was like a lump of "first time"s striking down on her. The interior had an appearance in which plenty of natural wood was used. There were tables and chairs in the centre of the room. Unlike the rooms in the Shinra Building, the walls here had many windows. Furniture, tableware, pots, food, cleaning tools— it was like she could hear the breathing of the people living here. Aerith was distressed from the information overload and took a deep breath through her mouth.

"You're a strange child, aren't you?" 

Elmyra laughed. 

"I know it's sudden, but I thought about it along the way. I know I could bring you here, but what am I supposed to do after that? There was an orphanage on the way here, wasn't there? A lot of kids without parents live there. I thought about bringing you there, but there's a rumour that it's under the influence of Shinra Company. I thought about it after seeing what happened at the station. You probably hate the Shinra, don't you?"

Aerith nodded strongly many times.

"Well, we have to carefully think about what's going to happen from here on out," Elmyra let out a huge sigh. "But I'm not at a space to think about such complex matters now. Are you alright to go about this later and stay here for a while?"

Aerith nodded again and again.

"Well then, shall we go to the second floor?"

Elmyra, who seemed to be an impatient person, promptly climbed up the stairs to the second floor. Aerith hurriedly kept up and saw Elmyra waiting for her along the second-floor corridor. 

"In the meanwhile, I'll let you stay upstairs."

"Okay."

"This is a house with a fair number of guests. If there suddenly were a child, they would find it suspicious, wouldn't they? More than anything, I can't guarantee that they wouldn't tell Shinra about you. For the time being, except when I say it's okay, I'll have you stay upstairs."

"For the time being... How long will that be?"

Elmyra frowned and folded her arms. The smile disappeared from her eyes.

"Honestly, tell me. Is Shinra chasing your mother? Or are they chasing you too?"

She knew the meaning of her question. However, how should she reply? She was also probably being chased too. She was undoubtedly being chased because she is a descendant of the Cetra. 

"Ummm. Yes."

"It's alright if you say yes. However, if it comes to that, you'll be staying on the second floor until Shinra gives up finding you, okay?"

Aerith knew that Shinra would probably never give up searching for her. She'll probably live on the second floor her whole life.

"Don't look like that... It's human nature. You won't be here for an eternity."

"Um. Okay."

The doorbell rang downstairs. Elmyra frowned. Aerith felt nervous that it might be someone pursuing from Shinra.

"Wait here for a moment, quietly."

After quickly fixing up her hair and clothes, Elmyra went downstairs.

Aerith crouched down and hid her breath at that spot. After she thought she heard a sign of the door opening...

"Where did you go!"

The voice of a furious man burst through. Aerith lost her balance and quickly placed down her hand for support.

"That's none of your business!"

"You were the one who told me to come over in the evening, weren’t you? Oh? Do you treat people like this all the time?" 

"I said I'll probably be here in the evening. I didn't make any promises. You can't come here every day at any time for no reason."

'It will end after a signature and a blood seal. How many times must I say it?"

"It will be the same no matter how many times you say it. Understand? This is about the way society works, and the rules. Without Meguro's consent, I also won’t do anything. And even with my blood seal, he would think that I gave in to a threat. If you want to keep your job forever, you have to stay true to your own words, okay?"

"Shit!"

"Your teeth will fall off from such foul words. Well then, go home!"

"Shit! Shit!"

"If you want to stand on top of others, you'll repent for it. Well, back off!"

It was the sound of the door slammed shut. The man was mumbling in an angry voice. However, she did not understand its content.

Elmyra returned to the second floor and seemed exhausted.

"Ahhhhh..." She let out a deep sigh.

"That was Carlo Kinky. That man, he's a special one. Other guests are normally just decent and quiet."

↞↠

Aerith was assigned to the room of Gabriel Gainsborough, who built the house, and that was his room where he had recuperative medical treatment until two months prior. It was tidied up and smelled clean. She didn't feel any hints of death.

"I don't really think it has a good atmosphere, but I don't have any other rooms. Nope, I have one, but I'll have to clean it up."

Elmyra felt apologetic. However, Aerith didn't care about it. In fact, she even felt a welcoming-like feeling from the room.

That night, Ifalna appeared by her bedside.

"I'll be supporting Elmyra being fond of you, okay?"

Ifalna laughed, but that smile had some kind of tiredness in it. It was the same smile as when she was walking in the slums.

"How did you come here?"

"It’s not that I came here, but we're always together because we are connected."

Aerith felt her mother's hand on her forehead. And before long, she slept with peace in her mind.

Ifalna appeared the next night too.

"How was today? I wonder if you got along with Elmyra."

"Hmmm... I don't know. Elmyra made breakfast, brought it to me, and we ate together. At that time, she made bread for me for lunch. She went out after that and then came back around dinner time. But, she seemed tired. That's why we didn't talk much. I can't get along with her. What should I do?"

"It's alright. Elmyra is having it rough now. But, I think you can help her. "

"What should I do?"

"When she wants to cry, stay with her and cuddle close together. It's the same as when I was here."

"... Mom, was there a time when you wanted to cry?"

"I probably did a few times..."

Scene 9

"I'll explain this," Aerith changed her tone to an excuse-like manner.

Tifa seemed to be in an absorbed-like state.

"When I was a kid, I thought that it was a dream, and I thought I was just talking in a dream, but that's not it."

"Um.... What do you mean by that?"

"It's one of the powers of the Cetra. We can be one with the floating life of the Planet. Through this life, and though it seems there are various conditions, we're able to communicate with people whom we're separated from."

"That's amazing, isn't it?"

“Right? It gets more different than you think. But I can't do it anymore. I can feel something when I go to a deep place, but usually not at all."

"I see."

"Like happiness and sadness. But, I have been through a lot due to this power when I was a kid. Well, I must be a strange kid, aren’t I?"

↞↠

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[missymurphy1985]

Nobody's Perfect (part5)

Warning - smut (always)

Taglist Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x

You'd spent the rest of that afternoon discussing your characters, and rehearsing your rewritten scenes together. The new dynamic working well for you both off screen and on, and both Steve and the Director Anto couldn't help but be impressed at the new found chemistry the two of you had together over the last week. James, the assistant director, had pulled Cillian away for a chat in his trailer, and he had a face like thunder when he came out afterwards.

"Hey... You okay?" You bumped into him as he was walking back to his trailer.

"I'm good." He squeezed your arm, but carried on walking away from you.

"James had a word then." Sophie's voice behind you startled you.

"About what?"

"There's rumours flying around - about the two of you, have you not heard them?"

"What rumours?"

"The two of you? Sleeping together?" You scoffed at her.

"God, don't be ridiculous Soph, he's nearly 20 years older than me for goodness sake..."

"Y/n... Just be careful. Okay?" You were stunned - what business was it of anyone's who you shared a bed with? You looked round to see if anyone was nearby, wanting to go to his trailer but there were cast and crew members everywhere. You headed to your own trailer instead.

"Sophie told me what James said Cill..." You texted him, sitting down on your sofa.

"Why can't I just be allowed to move on? Why is there always something that's standing in my way huh?" A quick reply.

"What do we do?"

"If he finds out we're together off camera it could cause you real problems y/n. He sees it as massively unprofessional.. thinks it'll affect the way we are together.. I think it's fucking bullshit personally, you're playing my wife for god's sake..."

"Not married yet Cill... That's next week's scene."

"We need to spend less time together off set.. we're clearly raising suspicions." Your heart lurched, but you knew what he said made sense. At least until filming finished next week, then it was no one's business what happened.

"Okay... Gonna be hard though.."

"Can't wait til I can see you again properly xx"

"Me too. I've seen Clara's wedding dress already, it's beautiful Cill xx"

"Not as beautiful as you will be in it xx"

"I'm heading back to Ireland for a couple of days in the morning - mam's birthday. I'll be back Sunday night xx"

"I'm heading to my sister's place in Liverpool tonight. Wish I could spend it with you though xx"

"Me too babe. Gonna be a long weekend without you xx"

The weekend was the longest you'd been apart since day one of filming, and it was just as difficult as you thought it would be. You'd tried not to bother him so he could spend time with his family, but he couldn't get enough of you. He'd send you photos of him and his brother drinking in Cork city, you replied with photos of you and your sister in Liverpool.

You were waiting onset, your hair pristine, makeup done, and the long, white, flowing dress fitted to perfection, even over the small 'bump' you were wearing underneath your dress - Clara was 5 months pregnant. You hadn't had chance to see Cillian since his return the night before - his flight back had been delayed and he didn't get in until nearly 3am. All you were waiting for was Paul Anderson, his character Arthur, was to walk you down the aisle, after your onscreen father had been killed off in an earlier episode. Paul came onset and couldn't take his eyes off you. He pulled you close for a gentle hug, earning a glare from your hair and makeup lady Jenny. He chuckled and pulled away, before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"Cillian's a very lucky man, and I hope to god he realises that y/n." You pulled back sharply, shaking your head.

"There's nothing between me and Cill, Paul.." he winked at you and offered you his arm, ready to film the scene. Jenny came over to fix your veil over your head, covering your face. The main director, Anto, called Action, and the wedding march music played. The doors to the small newly built chapel opened and you and Arthur walked down the aisle. You could see Cillian in his navy blue suit at the end, his eyes on you. You could almost feel the emotion radiating from him.

You stood next to him, and he lifted the veil over your head. You could tell he was fighting Cillian, and trying to remain as Tommy, but he couldn't stop himself winking at you when he knew the camera wouldn't be on him, making you blush. His eyes also wandered down to the bump under your dress, and you could tell it was bringing back painful memories for him, but he held it together to get the scene done.

The scene complete, it was time for the cast to move onto the reception set. You were about to walk with everyone before an arm pulled you behind a curtain.

"Paul's covering me for 10minutes, y/n, I needed to see you..." His lips were on yours in seconds, as he pulled you down a small set of steps into a secluded backstage room. Locking the door behind him, he pulled you back to him quickly. You could feel how hard he was underneath the trousers and you gasped as he started to hitch your dress up your legs.

"Fuck.. Cillian we can't do this here..."

"We've got... 7 minutes.. yes we can..." He spun you round and leaned you over an amplifier, must've been a spare for the music they needed for the wedding scene. Lifting your dress over your hips, you heard him unzip his trousers and line himself up against you.

"No underwear?" He questioned.

"Tight fitting dress... Shit..." He pushed himself in and quickly built up a powerful rhythm. You'd gone on the pill after your little mishap earlier that month.

"Fuck.. you got tighter.."

He pounded into you, you had to cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet. Your much needed orgasm was building rapidly, as you heard him panting behind you, his hips snapping into you harder.

Before you knew it, you came hard over him, and he followed quickly with a deep groan - hot streams of cum flowing into you like a fountain. He pulled out slowly, and you felt a tissue between your legs as he cleaned you up - you couldn't risk a trace of anything being left on you before you did the next scenes. He zipped his trousers up and helped to pull your dress back down, checking both of you over to make sure you still looked as you did before, incredibly you did. He pulled you to stand, and adjusted the bump under your dress slightly.

"You look beautiful, y/n. You really do."

"You look so handsome in that suit Cill..." He kissed you, his hand lingering on the bump a little longer. You felt butterflies, you couldn't help it. Separating, you made your way to the next scene.

Walking into the set, you could see James eyeing you from the corner suspiciously. Cillian was already there, stood with Paul having their hair and makeup readjusted slightly for the new lighting. Jenny waved for you to come to her for the same thing. The penultimate scene for the cast and crew.

You and Cillian were wrapped up in each others arms that evening on the sofa in his hotel room, some cheesy 90s horror film on the TV, but neither of you really paying much attention to it.

"Babe, I think we need to talk..." He said, as he pulled back and you sat up, fingers still entwined with his as you played with the hard skin by his thumb nail.

"Sounds ominous..."

"Filming ends tomorrow... James has already threatened to go to the press about us if we don't stop this.."

"What are you saying, Cill?" You released his hand, preparing yourself for the worst.

"Y/n this is your dream.. and I can't be the one to end that for you.. but at the same time I can't be the one to end this either. I need to know what it is you want? The press will eat us alive - there's 20 years between us.."

"I want you." Not even a glimmer of doubt. "I've been thinking long and hard about this all weekend. If I have to choose Cillian, I choose you. Every time. I don't care about the tabloids."

"Your career -"

"My career means nothing if I don't have you beside me! Don't you want me?"

"Of course I want you, that's not even a question.."

"Then what's the issue? Steve is one of the nicest guys in the industry and he ADORES you.. surely he can't feel the same way as James? I'm sick of sneaking around, pretending like nothing is going on between us! I wanna shout it from the rooftops! I want to be with you properly, and if that means I take a beating from the tabloids then so be it. If it means I'm not in series 2, so be it. There will always be other stories, other roles - there will never be another you..." You leaned forward and captured his lips in yours. He returned the kiss, and pulled you into his lap.

"I'm falling for you.. in fact no, I've fallen for you. Completely. Seeing you in that dress, with the bump underneath.. even though you were Clara, all I saw was y/n. I saw everything. Our future - what could be. It terrifies me but excites the shit outta me at the same time."

"Cillian.. I love you. I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you."

"I love you. I'll sort this. Let me talk to Steve tomorrow. James clearly had this weird little power trip going on.. but I'll sort it. You'll be in series 2, I promise you that."

"Even if I'm not - "

"Y/n, I'm executive producer of series 2 - trust me, you'll be in it." You smiled.

"And the press?"

"Fuck the press."

"I'd rather fuck you?" He grinned and kissed you again. Deepening the kiss as you grinded your hips into his, that erection pushing into your core with each push.

"You coming to Ireland with me when we wrap up tomorrow?"

"Try and stop me."

[scripturiends]

stole all the air from my atmosphere

Read on ao3

Summary: Han Joonhwi thinks maybe pulling all-nighters wasn’t so bad after all, even when you’ve practically finished studying ages ago.

Rating: T

Word count: 1,577

Notes: Inspired by a poem by Timothy Joshua. And totally optional, but I recommend listening to this song while reading.

~

Hey, all. Thanks for waiting patiently for an update. This fic is in response specifically to a request I received here. I know a lot of people have been requesting for a sequel to ‘gave me no compasses, gave me no signs’ as well; truthfully, I’m not sure if this fic is in the same ‘universe’ as that one — all I can definitively say is that this still follows the canon. So, I’ll leave it up to you to decide if it’s the same timeline or not. I have a lot of fic ideas lined up for an “official” sequel, anyway. ;) 

The Solhwi brain rot just gets more potent as we anticipate the new episodes — I absolutely love receiving plot ideas from all of you, and while it’s a challenge to interpret it in my own way, I still hope that it’s on par with your expectations. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments. You can send me a message anytime too! I know I say this often, but your continued support really really keeps me motivated to write. Would love to make new friends as well, if we can help it.

Okay, the note is getting too long now. As usual, the fic is under the cut, and all mistakes in this fic are mine. Enjoy! 

~

There was that moment, when you stole all the air from my atmosphere; when my heart pounded within the might of all the planets.

It’s the third time Han Joonhwi has bit his tongue in the past ten minutes, attempting to stifle his oncoming yawns, trying not to cause any disturbance. He fights his drowsiness as best as he can, hoping that his companion wouldn’t notice — and yet, as his luck would have it, the moment he couldn’t hold it in any longer just so happened to be the exact same moment the person next to him lifted her nose from the book it was buried in.

Without looking at him, she flips another page. Tone commanding but masked with concern, Kang Sol mumbles, “Just go to bed already.”

So much for being lowkey, he thought. Joonhwi stretches himself awake, thinking of the perfect response: casual enough to make it look like he doesn’t care, but caring enough that she wouldn’t push him away. “Not until you’re done,” he finalizes.

Sol scoffs, tossing her pen lightly on the table. “You don’t even take this class.” 

Well, of course he knew that. But Kang Sol A — truthfully, he prefers to omit the distinction: no matter how many Kang Sols there are in Korea, or hell, even in the entire world, he’s only got eyes for one — is not getting anything out of him. If getting Joonhwi to admit his true feelings was her goal, she’s far from reaching it.

“You know why I’m here,” he sidetracked. 

Unconvinced, she turns to him with a provoking look, and Joonhwi already knows she’s about to go on a long-winded rant. “Yeah, yeah, I do,” she started. “You want to hang out with me but instead of just asking like a normal person, you make up this lame excuse about how I need to study even though I was already planning on doing that anyway. You practically finished studying ages ago so you just sitting there doing nothing is really rubbing salt in my wounds.” 

He watches her with both his hands on his head, suppressing a smile. Finding an opening, Sol pushes his chest lightly. “I don’t need you here. Get out.” 

She said it so weakly that he knows there’s no way she could have meant it. Making sure she doesn’t lose her balance, Joonhwi quickly takes hold of her wrists and gently places them back on the table. “You talk too much,” he breathed. 

Sol purses her lips in annoyance and propped her chin up with her hand. “Yeah, well, that’s why you’re dating me,” she pouted.

If she keeps putting him in his place like this, he might actually have to walk out, but not for the reasons she’d expect him to, like his supposed exhaustion. Joonhwi knows Sol doesn’t do this on purpose, but she naturally has a way of making him flustered, and he’s trying really hard not to lose his cool right now. 

She stomps her feet lightly on the ground, groaning. “This is too difficult,” she complains, leaning her head on Joonhwi’s shoulder. 

Really, really hard.

It’s funny how Sol can say something one minute and then completely contradict it by the next. She says she doesn’t need him there, but clings onto him like her life depended on it. Not that Joonhwi was complaining — but he does want to have a little fun with her. He wanted to stir her a bit with something like, I thought you didn’t need me here? He knows she hates being called out for snappy remarks that she only ever means as a joke.

But a quick glance at Sol, in her favorite pajamas and one of Joonhwi’s sweaters, on the very rare occasions she has her hair down, bangs falling on her eyes, Joonhwi decided against it. Her vulnerability shouldn’t be treated with ridicule; it should be met with an equal amount of softness. After all, no one else but Joonhwi gets to see Sol like this — he finds that as a privilege which shouldn’t be taken for granted. 

“Okay.” He gives in. “Let me have a look.”

Joonhwi holds his palm out to ask for the reading material, which, as usual, Sol rejects. “Didn’t we already talk about this?”

He feigns innocence. “Talk about what?”

Her head feels heavy on his shoulder. “I need to be able to stand on my own if I’m going to survive law school hell,” she reminds him. “You can’t keep coming to my rescue for every little inconvenience.” 

“So this is just a minor setback?” Joonhwi teases. He couldn’t help it. 

“No,” Sol cries, “it’s a major obstacle.” 

She snuggles up against him, and Joonhwi could literally feel the heat rising to his face. Nonetheless, he lightly holds the side of her head for support and asks, “So what? Are you just going to give up?” 

“Of course not,” she mumbles, her breath hot on his neck. Joonhwi knows the law well, but he feels like this should be illegal. 

“But sometimes I wish I was just naturally smart like you.”

He lets out a soft sigh. Like many other things, the pair have talked about this before, and Joonhwi has never denied that he and many others have had a significant head start over Sol. But this is what he’d always tell her: 

“If everyone in this school had half as much of your wit, every crime in the world would have been solved by now.” 

To which she’d grimace and respond with, “Yeah, tell that to the F I got in Criminal Code.” 

But tonight was different. Sol wasn’t coming from a place of defeat, she was saying this out of frustration. She was probably thinking that maybe, had her life choices been different, she would have had it easier. That maybe, had she been as lucky in wealth and opportunities as everyone else, she wouldn’t need to work twice as hard as them. So that maybe, like Joonhwi, she could just comfortably sit in silence with him and enjoy his company. 

Right now, he’s treading murky waters and he’s afraid that one wrong move could give Sol the wrong idea. Joonhwi has never been the type to open up to people, but she never made it difficult for him to do so. With Sol, honesty was just the default. Telling her things he’d never entrust with anyone else came as easy as breathing. 

He takes her hand and gingerly intertwines it with his own. “I didn’t have it easy at the beginning either,” he admits. “Law school wasn’t even a part of my plan, and yet here I am.” 

This is at least one thing he knows Sol could empathize with. After being betrayed by the last person he’d ever expect to hurt him, Joonhwi’s life took a turn. To an extent, he was motivated by rage. But mostly, he was just trying to find a way to turn that pain into something useful, trying to make sure no one else has to go through what he did. And call him foolish for being too hopeful or optimistic, but he believes this is something he and Sol can do for each other. They’re two sides of the same coin: the law owes Sol an apology, and Joonhwi is coming to terms with the fact that he might never get one, ultimately being robbed of the opportunity after his uncle’s untimely death. 

Joonhwi knows his words bear significant weight to Sol. There’s a lot of things he wants to say to her but right now he just settles with, “I think you’re smart enough. If anything, you need to stop going overboard. What if you get sick again?”

She lifts her head and stares at him with doe eyes.

“That’s why I’m here.” He raises their interlocked fingers to show to her. “Why do you think I’m holding your hand? It’s so I can pull you out from under when you’re drowning in all of this.”

Sol slowly breaks out into an endearing smile, trying to repress her laughter but failing. “Heol. Han Joonhwi, since when were you so sentimental?”

Joonhwi doesn’t know where this newfound bravery came from, but he kisses Sol on the forehead lightly. “Since you needed it.” 

Sol blinks, her expression unreadable, and Joonhwi fears that he may have done the wrong thing. But much to his disbelief, she instead grabs him by the collar and closes the gap between her lips and his. They crash against one another in perfect rhythm, and Joonhwi mentally slaps himself for not doing this sooner. Never has he felt more at peace than at this very moment, which was ironic considering he was supposed to be the one doing the comforting. And yet, the lines blur when he realizes that even when their methods are vastly different, they’re at their best when they’re in tune with each other’s needs.

And right now, this is what he needs the most.

Much to Joonhwi’s dismay, Sol finally pulls away; they’re both out of breath. 

Still in a daze, he musters up the courage to ask such a stupid question. In fact, he’s surprised he could even speak at all. “What was that for?” 

“You’re not the only sentimental one here. If you’re going to kiss me, do it right.” 

That was when I knew, you were worlds more, than just a first kiss.

~

Send me your thoughts here!

[iamanartichoke]

Fic prompt: If you feel like doing another hurt/comfort with Mobius, I would love a version of that end scene where Loki's freaking out but it actually is our Mobius. So Mobius listens to everything Loki has to say, and then they just kind of...take a breath, I suppose, before whatever they're going to do to fight Kang - perhaps Loki gets some tea, and/or an actual meal, a little sleep maybe (has he eaten since that cake on the train or slept since that brief nap in ep 2??), or whatever comfort-y stuff you want - I just need that sweet fic healing lmao.

@scintillatingshortgirl19 Thank you for the prompt and I hope you like it! <3

Summary: Takes place at the end of episode 6, where instead of saying "Who are you?" Mobius knows Loki and they pick up from where they left off in the void. Word Count: 1956 Author’s notes: I'm not feeling super confident with these prompts, so please don't judge me bear with me as I dust off my little writer-brain gears and try to find my footing with these new characters and characterizations.

Completed prompts.

*

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mobius is saying, holding his hands up, but Loki can’t stop talking. The words are spilling from him; he’s tripping over them, and from the look on Mobius’s face Loki knows he’s not making sense, but still, he can’t stop.

“He’s set on war,” Loki babbles. “We need to prepare, Mobius.”

“Hang on.” When Loki pauses to take a breath, Mobius reaches out and places his hands on Loki’s shoulders. It’s almost comical, the way he needs to reach, as Loki towers over him. Yet Loki feels very small, too, and doesn’t protest the contact. “You’re speaking faster than my brain can process words. Breathe, okay? Start at the beginning.”

Loki doesn’t know when the beginning was. It could have been the moment he’d leapt up and grabbed Sylvie’s arm before she could land a fatal blow to their enemy; it could have been all those days (or months, or hours, Loki has no idea; time, for him, has completely ceased to exist) ago that he’d landed in a Midgardian desert and the TVA immediately swarmed upon him.

“You’re not understanding me.” Frustration colors Loki’s tone. “There’s no time to stop; he’s - they’re - coming.”

“You’re right, I’m not understanding you.” Mobius lets go of Loki’s shoulders and rubs the back of his neck. “I want to, but you gotta slow down and fill me in, okay?”

“Maybe we should take him somewhere,” says B-15. Loki had barely noticed her but now he steps back, his gaze flicking from her to Mobius, taking in the confusion on both of their faces.

“You don’t look so good,” B-15 adds, taking in Loki’s appearance. He must be a sight, he realizes; his hair is matted and tangled and he feels grimy, his skin caked with so much dirt and blood from injuries he doesn’t remember getting.

But, what difference does it make? Loki turns back to Mobius, desperate. “Mobius, listen to me. Sylvie and I -”

“Come on.” Mobius cuts him off. He moves in, taking one of Loki’s arms. “You can tell me everything, okay, Loki? I just need you to calm down and to come with me, preferably before you pass out. Hauling around a five hundred pound demigod wasn’t on my to-do list today.”

Loki bites back a sharp retort. He’s vaguely aware of B-15 taking his other arm, and it’s only once Loki’s shoulders slump and he allows himself to be led away from the shelves that the exhaustion hits him. He’s been running high on adrenaline for hours, and now that he’s moving slowly, supported on either side, all of that energy seems to drain from him at once. His knees buckle.

“Careful,” Mobius says. Were it not for him and B-15 holding him up, Loki is certain he would have collapsed. He squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on placing one foot in front of the other, not caring where they’re going. The archives, the time theater, one place is the same as another.

They move through halls that are bustling with activity, minutemen running and disembodied voices crackling over speakers. They don’t know it’s pointless, no amount of hunters in the field will matter or make a difference.

He thinks he says so, or perhaps he just imagines he does. Neither Mobius nor B-15 acknowledge him, at any rate; they only keep moving and after awhile, they arrive at the dormitories, where Loki has not been since the first day Mobius brought him here as an official TVA employee.

“Why are we here?” Loki asks, confused.

“So you can get a shower and a change of clothes,” Mobius says simply, “and then we can have some coffee and you can tell me what happened after the void.”

Loki sighs, and then nods, resisting the urge to insist that everything else could wait (until when?), because Mobius isn’t understanding the precariousness of the situation, but he knows it won’t do any good.

“Fine,” he says instead, giving up. The sooner he does what Mobius asks, the sooner Mobius will listen.

He’d not realized just how badly he needed that shower and change of clothes until he’s scrubbed the dirt and blood from his skin and allowed the hot water to beat over his sore muscles and rapidly-forming bruises. For lack of anything else to wear, he puts on a clean suit, fastening the cuffs firmly around his wrists and buttoning the collar up to his neck.

He’s sick of this outfit; he never wants to see it again but, without his magic, he has no other choice.

In the dormitory kitchen, Mobius is brewing a pot of coffee. He looks up when Loki walks in, and his mouth quirks in a half smile. “Better,” he says, “but you could still probably use some sleep and a meal.”

“Stop fussing,” Loki snaps, irritated with Mobius’s sudden desire to hover over him like a governess hovering over a petulant child who won’t eat his peas. “I hate coffee, by the way.”

“You’ve never had my coffee,” Mobius retorts, sounding unbothered. “Just sit down, okay? You still look like hell, is my point. When’s the last time anyone fussed over you, anyway?”

Loki makes a scoffing noise as he drops down into a chair at one of the small kitchen tables. “I’m sure my mother did at some point, I don’t remember.” Actually, he remembers very well that it was always his mother who looked after him when he was sick or tired or lonely, until he’d grown too old to allow himself to seek her out for comfort.

But he doesn’t want to think of his mother, who is lost to him and perhaps lost to the real Loki as well, the sacred timeline’s Loki, if enough time has progressed and Malekith has indeed run her through with a sword and left her bleeding out on the palace floor.

Loki shudders as he thinks of it, remembering the sight of his mother’s lifeless body projected onto a screen. He’d been helpless to stop it, utterly powerless, just as ultimately he’d been powerless to stop Sylvie.

His mother, dead. Sylvie, lost to him. The timeline destroyed - the end of everything. The weight of it all crashes over him; had he not already been sitting, the sheer despair of it would have brought him to his knees.

Loki drops his head into his hands instead, thinking back to Mobius’s words that first day: you were born to cause pain and suffering and death.

In retrospect, Loki knows that Mobius was merely fighting dirty, using whatever words necessary to break Loki down - the ends justify the means, and all that - but he wasn’t goddamn wrong.

How could Loki have ever believed, even for a second, that he could possibly change?

We write our own destinies now, he’d told that creepy little clock hologram, and she’d smirked, seen right through the words because they were rubbish and they both knew it.

Good luck with that.

Loki doesn’t realize he’s crying until Mobius sets down a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. He lifts his head and rubs tiredly at his tear-stained cheeks, unable to meet Mobius’s gaze as Mobius sits down across from him with his own mug.

“Here,” Mobius adds, reaching into his inside blazer pocket. He pulls out a slim, red candy stick wrapped in plastic and hands that to Loki as well.

Loki stares at it. “What is this?”

“Something better than grapes or nuts,” Mobius says dryly. “It’s a Twizzler. Popular Earth candy. I’d say don’t tell anyone I’ve stashed a bunch, but …” He trails off and shrugs, glancing around at the kitchen with forced amusement. “Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

He pulls out a second Twizzler and unwraps the plastic, then bites into the candy. Loki watches him for a moment, and then imitates him. “Gross,” he says, after he’s taken a bite. It’s a very bland candy, with texture not unlike rubber. “Think I prefer grapes.”

“Well, maybe Twizzlers are an acquired taste,” says Mobius.

Loki finishes the Twizzler anyway, and then takes a sip of coffee. He does usually dislike coffee, but either he’s hungrier than he’d realized or Mobius has a gift, because this cup is actually quite good.

“Okay, now let’s go back to the beginning,” Mobius prompts, after a silence. He drums his fingertips against the table. “What happened? I’m assuming you were able to enchant the murder cloud?”

All of the words that had been spilling from Loki’s lips before, so desperate to be released, now get stuck somewhere in his throat. He wraps his hands around his mug and takes another sip of coffee, wondering idly how long it had been since he’d actually had something warm to drink. Or eat, for that matter. The train on Lamentis, perhaps. A moment ago, a lifetime ago.

“We did,” he finally says. Despite the coffee, a chill breaks out over his skin and he sets the mug down, choosing to fold his arms as if to fold into himself for warmth. “We made it past Alioth and found him - the one who’s responsible for all of this.”

Just like that, the words are no longer stuck. Loki pours out the entire story, starting from when he and Sylvie had crossed the threshold into the citadel and ending with his own tumble back through the tempad’s portal into the TVA.

But he omits the kiss, only mentioning that Sylvie had distracted him to get the upper hand. He’ll never speak of it - either that Sylvie had used his feelings for her in order to betray him, or that he’d fallen for it (of course he’d fallen for it; for a few seconds there, he’d let himself believe - but, it doesn’t matter, it wasn’t real, and there are bigger problems now).

“She closed the portal before I could get back through it,” Loki says. He notices that he’s twisting his fingers together so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. He forces himself to stop. “I can only imagine she finished the job after that because, well.” He barks a laugh that sounds, even to his own ears, broken and pathetic. He used to be so good at maintaining a cool, calm facade but it, like so many other things, had been steadily breaking apart, piece by piece. There is very little left to guard the scared little ice runt who trembles at the core.

“Look at the timeline,” he adds; he laughs again and rubs his eyes against a fresh wave of tears.

For a long time, neither of them say anything. Loki finishes his coffee and Mobius eats two more Twizzlers before another word is spoken.

“So we lost.” Mobius’s voice is hollow. “We lost before we could begin to fight.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mobius shrugs. He runs a hand over his short, gray hair before letting out a laugh of his own. “He Who Remains,” he repeats, more to himself than to Loki.

Loki allows a beat to pass. “We have to try to fix it, Mobius.” The only way to ease the weight of his guilt, Loki knows, is if he goes back and tries to make it right - or to die trying.

“How are we supposed to do that?” It’s Mobius’s turn to rub his eyes. His shoulders slump and for a moment, he looks very tired. Older. Loki studies him and wonders, fleetingly, if the real Mobius is someone’s father. “I don’t even know where to begin, Loki.”

“I might.” Loki straightens. Deep down, beneath the anguish, a seed of determination has taken hold and he focuses on that; a lifeline. “But you’ll need to trust me.”

[talesofafangirlwithadvr]

April 2021 Picks

And we’re back with the end to another month. April! Wow! Lots more great picks to talk about this time. Lots of new ones to the list too. So, let’s dive in!

Spoiler territory ahead!

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

or should I say Captain America and the Winter Soldier

I just finished the finale last night, so it felt right to start off with The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I really enjoyed it and I feel the episodes got stronger as the series went on. Each one felt like a mini-movie and I was upset it was over and had to wait another week for another one. I think the finale was my favorite. Especially the reveal of Sam as Captain America. I love his suit, his speech and the montage of everyone watching him. The last part of the episode was definitely my favorite and one I can watch on repeat. I loved seeing happy Bucky and him goofing off with the kids in Louisiana. He deserves so much happiness as he has now accepted he’s no longer who he once was. Bucky and Sam’s relationship is fantastic and I can’t wait to see it more. I know there’s a possibility of a second season and they have to be in a future MCU movie. Regarding the villain, I feel I was confused for most of the show as to what their objective was. I’m curious if this is because they had to reshoot parts during the pandemic. I also am mad with Sharon. Like what happened with her? She is definitely the true villain of the show. I also don’t love that we haven’t seen the end of Walker (but Wyatt Russell did a fantastic job). I also loved Torres and I hope he becomes the next Falcon. Definitely so different vibes from Wandavision, but just as good!

THE IRREGULARS

This is a show that more people need to be talking about! It was SO GOOD! I feel like I heard some buzz about it when it first came out, but not much after. It follows the teens featured about who live on the streets during Victorian London. The leader of their group, Bea gets approached by Dr. John Watson (that’s right...as in Sherlock and Watson) to take on a case that has more supernatural qualities. The story takes off from there. I think the group dynamic was fantastic. There wasn’t a character I didn’t like and each one brought something else important to the group (which they even bring up towards the end of the show). [I’ve watched a few cast interviews since finishing the finale and they seem like they get along really well in real life too.] There is a kind of love triangle, but it didn’t bother me and was over fast. I did like both combinations though. Lots of twists and turns along the journey. I have no idea if there will be another season, but there should be. It didn’t end on a major cliffhanger, but definitely ended in a way where it could continue nicely. Come on Netflix. 

HBO’S THE NEVERS

From one show set in Victorian times to the next. The Nevers just premiered on HBO and HBO Max earlier this month. It follows an ensemble of characters, similar to other HBO shows, ranging from characters who are called “the touched” to men in government who are against them. Being “touched” means they have a special talent or power, which can range from healing to speaking other languages, being extremely tall, or being an expectational inventor (I seriously love Penance. I just don’t know how to explain her ability). Amalia True and Penance Adair are two of the main characters and they help bring in others who are touched to a remodeled orphanage that is a safe haven for people like them. Of course there are those who are against them existing. This seems to be at least two groups as someone is abducting and experimenting on some of the touched, but we don’t know who they are...yet. I love the fusion of a historical setting with a fantasy element. I am very excited to see where the show is headed. I also love seeing so many of my favorite British actors on the screen together.      

ONCE UPON A TIME IN WONDERLAND

Time for a throw back. Fans of ABC’s Once Upon a Time might remember the short lived spin off following Alice in Wonderland (and some of Aladdin). It only lasted for one season of 13 episodes, but I remember loving it and I am so happy I can rewatch it on Disney Plus. It reminds me of why I enjoyed OUAT so much and I think this show deserved another season or more crossover with the original show. (Luckily the Knave got that opportunity.) I think it should have aired as a summer show or when OUAT was on hiatus, this way more fans would have tuned in. It is something I’ll believe forever. 

Anyway, I’ll stop ranting now... I love Alice. I think she’s a badass and a fierce warrior. If you follow some of my posts on my other blog, Lydia-yougowith-Stiles, you’ll know that I love a warrior romance and Cyrus and Alice fit that perfectly (even if they are apart for much of the series). I also love Alice’s hair and outfits. Everything about her is cool. Her relationship with the Knave is one of my favorite friendships ever. I think they balance each other out so well and how they spend most of the journey together. Back in the day, I totally shipped them, but now I definitely don’t. (Even though I don’t love Anastasia.) This is definitely worth the watch if you’ve ever heard of Once Upon a Time or not. There is very cheesy CGI especially for 2013, but once you get pass that you’ll love it. 

ZOEY’S EXTRAORDINARY PLAYLIST

It was on a longer break than I expected, and I didn’t miss it as much as I thought I would (which I know doesn’t sound good for a show), but I am still loving all the episodes this season. It feels like there are more musical numbers, which I love. Mandy Moore is killing it with the choreography. There are so many amazing moments. I also was a big fan of the newest glitch episode. Everyone is so talented and I also like that we’ve started to hear from more like Jenna and Tobin. Leif has become one of my favorites. I don’t love the new neighbor next door, but I think we’re done with his storyline. I’m not loving the Zoey love triangle, but I do like her with either Simon or Max. She seems really happy with Simon now. (FYI: I haven’t watched the most recent episode yet. The glitch one was my latest.) Can’t wait for more!    

KUNG FU

CW’s newest show this month was Kung Fu, which I just learned was a reboot. It follows Nicky who returns after 3 years to her home in San Francisco. Her family has mixed feelings as she has had no contact with them for the last 3 years. She is now a Kung Fu master and warrior, out to avenge her mentor’s death and stop a villain from acquiring mythical weapons. The show gives me Arrow vibes every time I watch it. It has similar flashbacks each episode to an earlier time in Nicky’s life. While Nicky’s mission is different, the style just gives me early seasons of Arrow vibes, which I am not complaining about. It stars Legacies’ Alyssa Chen, who I didn’t love on Legacies, but instantly fell in love with Nicky. I think she’s a bad ass character and love how she’s fighting for the underdogs on the streets of San Fran, while also taking down a bigger evil. The love triangle is heating up and I’m definitely team Henry (even though there’s some mystery there). I think he’s great and once again we have an awesome warrior romance. They balance each other so well and it’s only been like 3 episodes. Now they’ve also been sleuthing together and it’s just amazing. 

NANCY DREW

Are you sick of hearing me talk about CW’s Nancy Drew? I hope not because I’m going to fangirl again. I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH! I can’t wait till Wednesday comes and I tune in a little after it starts, so then I can fast forward on my DVR. Then when the episode is over I basically start it all over again and watch select scenes that were awesome. (More specifically, they tend to be Nancy and Ace scenes because I love them and we’re entering so much angst I don’t know if my heart will be able to handle it!!!) 

I’ll say it a thousand times: THIS CAST IS EVERYTHING! Their dynamic is amazing. You can have any match ups and it’ll be a great time. There is not one person I don’t like. I was so upset that there wasn’t a new episode last week (especially because it was my birthday). I loved the last one with the Hardy Boys and that Nace reveal! OMG! I’m so sad that Grant has left again because we barely had him, but I feel he’ll eventually come back. He has to. I loved the ending when he spoke to Thom by signing to him. (My heart!) I seriously can’t say enough great things about this show. It is not your typical CW show and deserves more love and views. So happy a third season has already been confirmed!! 

LAST NOTES

Just started Shadow and Bone on Netflix and am loving it! I’m sure I’ll have an entire post dedicated to it when I’m done. (Currently going to start episode 6.) I have no background on the universe or the books (just what my sister is filling me in with as we watch). I definitely plan on reading Six of Crows after this!

So what are you enjoying? Let me know. I’m always looking for more shows to add to the list! Can never have enough. 

[writing-in-april]

Origins

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Reader feels homesick after a particularly gruesome case. Spencer can’t buy a plane ticket, but he can try to help recreate part of home with them.

A/N: hey heyyyy- this is my eighth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April- I’m very nervous for this one to be honest- idk if it’s going to be a lot of peoples cup of tea- this one had me researching a lot lol since I have no clue about boats at all lol- I hope I did the request at least a bit of justice (sorry in advance if I fuck up any terms or anything) but I think I did pretty well with my research (I think). I originally got the request from @imagining-in-the-margins when she handed it over to me also thanks for some help on the folklore parts too! Here it is-

I always want to hear from you guys so feel free to drop me an ask here- and hopefully y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: ~disclaimer lol I know nothing about boating~ Anyway into the other warnings- Takes place directly after season 3 episode 8 (Lucky with Floyd Feylinn) Spencer gets really fucking sea sick- poor baby, Reader is from overseas (originally Cornwall in the request but I made it a bit more vague) and Reader’s father is a fisherman

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.8k

The air that floated around whenever I was out on the water, salty sea water or fresh salt water always seemed to breath life back into my lungs. The river that we were boating on was quite salty near its widest point, tides brought the saltwater in to mix with the fresh making the water quite brackish.

I was lucky to still live somewhat near water after I had moved over to America. I hadn’t had the luxury of picking exactly where I was going to live and work when I transferred to the FBI, I just happened to draw all the right cards. With my schedule I didn’t go out on the water as much as I used to, definitely not as often as I had as a child. I yearned often to feel the specific type of air people only felt when on the water, especially when my job got particularly gruesome.

Gruesome was a way to define the last case my team and I had been brought in to investigate. My stomach churned at the thought of our last unsub, his name couldn’t leave my mind and the images of his heinous acts certainly didn’t leave either. Floyd Feylinn Ferell had been his name, though I wished I could forever scrub it from my memory. His crimes were too vile that everything seemed to trigger a memory, specifically of the frozen corpses.

The team had even noticed how affected I was by the case, often sending me worrying looks whenever it looked like blood drained from my face over sheer shock- just like the corpses. Cases had been gruesome before, sure, but there was something about this one made me feel frozen by fear.

I needed air, and not just any old air.

Homesickness was another factor that was making me feel so ill. I hadn’t been back to my home in so long, the only time I spoke with my father was over the phone, no video chats at all. He was just as technophobic as Spencer, maybe even more so to be honest. My father’s life as a fisherman hadn’t made him exceptionally tech savvy. He did know how to work a phone now thanks to you, which was another similarity to him and Spencer. I had helped Spencer learn how to work his new smartphone just last week.

Spencer, my lovely boyfriend of a few months, wanted to help quell my dark thoughts as best as he could with all of his knowledge. His first solution was to always revert to books, which I didn’t mind, it only made him more special to me. He tried to find books that would remind me of home- and get my mind off of gruesome cases that were closed and shut cases.

Hotch had then suggested the team take a day off, just one. After weeks of back to back cases with little to no reprieve we’d finally get some time alone, even if it was only for a day. All I needed was one day to get on the water and cleanse myself of the negative thoughts I had been feeling lately.

It was actually Spencer that had first suggested this excursion. He had come to one of our dates with his arms full of pamphlets all about renting a boat for the day. He also had definitely read up about boats, I’d expect nothing less of Spencer. I had learned it was his way of subtly showing affection, researching anything that I even was passively interested in.

Spencer packed even more than I did when we set off on the day long date, packing to the brim at least one too many bags- to be honest he packed two too many bags.

Once we had gotten the boat out into the water, the relief was almost instant. It was like my body knew I was home. I wasn’t actually at home of course, but it somehow knew I was near the water again. Honestly, Spencer hadn’t been far off when he called me a mermaid on one of our first dates, I had gone on a ramble about my love for it.

The water wasn’t nearly as clear as where I had grown up, much more dull in my opinion. But, the breeze that danced across my skin as well as the water made me feel more at home then I had been in a long time. After letting the mist spray onto my cheeks for a while I looked over to check on Spencer, who was not doing well by the looks of it.

Spencer’s face was twisted up in a grimace, not used to being in a boat. Until I had asked him a few weeks ago, to make sure it would be safe to go out on the water with him, I hadn’t even been sure he could swim. I also wasn’t that surprised that he had this reaction, it would have been less of a problem if it was a boat that I had picked out and bought. But, I’d take what I’d get if only to be by the water.

He pretended to hide his urge to dry heave over the side of the small boat that I had rented for the weekend. He looked almost green at this point, I knew he was only staying for my benefit at this point making me a tad bit sad. Water definitely seemed to have the opposite effect on Spencer compared to me, being on the water always felt like instant relaxation to me.

I still, however, didn’t want him to feel any major discomfort like he was obviously feeling so I decided to pipe up since he wouldn’t tell me himself, “Are you sure you’re ok enough to stay, Spencer?”

He pulled his life vest around himself as tight as he could while crossing his arms around his stomach. It took him a second to answer and in that time I almost started to turn the boat around back to the bay.

“I’m fine!” He squeaked out and I could see a shiver run through him. If I had offered to turn the boat around he’d most definitely have given me a glare, not wanting me to turn it around for his own sake. I squinted my eyes in suspicion, he was not completely fine obviously, but if he was insistent on staying maybe I could find something to distract him from it.

“Do you want to hear a sea shanty or do you want me to tell a regular story?” I asked out into the wind, thinking that might distract him from his nausea.

“A story, but you can’t call them regular stories.” He teased back as well as he could with the urge to dry heave, as if he didn’t know what I had meant. I scooted a little closer to him before I prepared myself to tell my story.

Selkies were always the ones I started out with whenever I told the stories I had grown up with. Despite its dark undertones I had latched onto the story as a child, finding it similar to the mainstream perception of what mermaids were. Though I’m reality seals that could transform into humans were a far cry from mainstream ideas of mermaids, a Merrow would have been a better comparison.

I always gave Spencer the origins of the story, he liked to know exactly where they had come from and how I had heard about the story in the first place, “As you know by now the folklore about Selkie’s originates from Scotland. Well- let me think about what I haven’t told you about Selkies before…” I pondered for a moment before remembering an aspect of the Selkies powers I hadn’t educated Spencer on yet. There was no doubt in my mind that he probably had all this information stored away in his brain somewhere, it was nice to know that someone genuinely cared about the stories I liked to tell. “Selkies are immortal, but they can be killed by other creatures. And I know I’ve told you that part, but I haven’t told you that they are generally killed by sharks when they are in seal form.”

I then went into the whole lore surrounding Selkie’s immortality. My hands were waving around animatedly as I talked, just like how the small waves were rocking our boat. They had definitely calmed down by now, hopefully Spencer would feel better soon.

Once I finished my tale I beamed over at him, my mood had brightened significantly over this trip, even though I could sense that Spencer’s had not. Though the story might have helped, he seemed a little less sickly now. He then managed to ask again without puking, “Could you tell another story? Maybe about the Kelpies? Or the Pixies of Cornwall? You can pick anything though really, I love listening to your stories.”

My heart swelled enough from his words that I thought it might burst. I wouldn’t have expected anything less of Spencer, he always hunted for more knowledge about things he was maybe more ignorant about compared to other topics.

I opted to then tell him about the Kelpies, who were also water dwelling creatures, before moving onto the pixies. He even seemed to be getting attached to the same stories that you favored as a child, and even as an adult.

I looked over at him as I finished my last little bit of information that I felt I could muster up today. A smile filled with fondness crept onto my face, his fluffy hair strewn about. It was cute despite his lingering sea sickness.

His face was remarkably less green now, my stories must have soothed him which made me feel heat run to my cheeks. Each time Spencer took interest in my origins I felt deeper feelings bubbling up, that were more than what we had expressed yet. Instead of voicing my full feelings just yet, I leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss on the forehead. He may have not looked green anymore, but I’d wait to give him a kiss on the lips until after we got back to shore, just in case something was to happen.

“Can you sing now?” I knew that he was not requesting me to sing any silly old song. He wanted me to sing the sea shantys that my father had taught me as a child. Not that I minded his request, I’d do anything to make him happier and I loved singing them anyway.

I smiled brightly as I guided the boat back to shore while I sang, already feeling lighter. It had not just been the water this time that made me feel better, it was also because of Spencer. He had taken so much care to help me feel more connected with home, loving to learn about your origins.

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith I’m sorry 😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

[btsmakesmehappy]

Sweet Scent | 4

Genre: Agent au. Colleague au. Mutual pining. Angst with Fluff at the end

Pairing: Agent!Jungkook x Forensic Doctor!reader

Word Count: 10k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: reader feels a little insecure. reader is held on a gun point. (Not too explicit) violence. Guns. Reader and JK are hurt. Angsty with fluffly ending. I think it’s all? (Please tell me if I miss something!)

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | completed

Summary: Why does he always look so nervous in front of you? Is it because of your excessive flirting? But how come you don’t tease him when he looks so incredibly cute every time he blushes?

Series Masterlist: The Company

A/N: Thank you for @arizonapoppy for betareading mine. You’re the best! Also the next part (sequel/drabble) will be posted next year just so the timeline makes more sense. So the next update will be the other member <3 Hope you enjoy!

Send an ASK if you want to be added in the taglist!

A knock on the door made you turn your head in confusion. You’re not expecting anyone right now. It’s almost nine o’clock in the night, and the building should be emptied by now, it’s past the office-hours.

Maybe a new case?

With the thought of that, your smile was beaming. You rose from the chair quickly and walked to the door. It’s the person behind the door that made you thank God that you decided to stay late at the Company.

Jeon Jungkook.

It’s been a month since you saw him in the firing range. You’re hoping to meet him again somewhere in the building, especially the cafeteria (because there is some information that you’d find him there), but you’ve never got the chance. The funniest thing was the other colleagues always found him there, except you. It’s just like destiny didn’t want you to meet him.

You believed in destiny. You believed in the universe.

You believed in the fall-in-love -at-the-first-sight. You believed in there’s sparks when you grazed someone's hand. You believed in the fallen books when you bumped the one in the corner of the street. You believed in the stranger sitting beside you on the plane while you’re travelling.

But unluckily for you, that’s never happened.

Still, you tried to believe in destiny, hoping to get some of it in your life.

After a month sitting in the cafeteria, waiting to bump a certain someone there, you’re getting tired of waiting for destiny. Well, even though you’d met him, would you still call it destiny? Weren’t you forcing it?

Which is why, it’s so weird how the universe just sent him to you that day. The day when you skipped washing your hair for the four days because you overslept and you’d tie it into a bun anyway. The day when your eyebrow pencil suddenly went missing. The day when you ate tomato pasta and dropped it on your shirt, leaving your white shirt with a huge red stain on the chest.

Why should it be that day?

Maybe the universe hated you.

“Y/N, right?”

His voice rang like a church bell, ringing through your ears and shaking your entire body. It’s almost magical that he sounded like an angel, and you longed him.

You couldn’t remember how long you looked at him, as his face turned red and uncomfortable. “He-Hello?” He timidly asked.

You shook your head quickly, “Ah, sorry. What can I do for you?” You opened the door widely as you gestured to him to come inside.

But Jungkook stayed in his spot, outside the doorway. He lowered his head to look at the paper in his hand, refusing to look at your eyes. “I need a report from the Ahn case.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning to the door frame. “About that, I don’t think it will be done by tomorrow. As you know Doctor Lee is still sick, so there’s no one to finalize the report.”

Jungkook bites his lips and sighed. “Yeah, I heard. Can you just- you know what, nevermind. Thank you.”

He bowed to you slightly and walked away. Even his body was that bulky, you could see how tired he was from behind. And somehow it hit a soft spot in your heart.

And maybe, you just wanted to be with him.

“Hey!” You yelled, he turned his back to you in confusion. “Do you want to see the report for a bit?”

Three days.

Three days you rejected every call from Jungkook. Three days you ignored all the knocks at the door from him. Three days you deleted all the messages he sent without even reading them. Three days.

And by Friday, you’re back to work, only because your days off are over. And unfortunately for you, Jungkook knows it too. It’s about time for you two to meet each other. It’s about time for you to stop avoiding him.

So, on that same day, you wake earlier than usual, leaving your apartment earlier than usual, but still go to work as late as you can. You hide at the bakery near the Company, eating a chocolate croissant, drawing it out by pulling it into flakey pieces, procrastinating.

You still can’t meet him yet. You don’t want to.

You walk as fast as you can to the elevator when you arrive at the Company. You look left and right as you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for the elevator. This elevator is taking so long.

“Y/N!”

You tense as you hear your name, looking timidly to the source of the voice. Please don’t be Jungkook, please. And when you look at the man standing behind you, you sigh in relief. “Hey, Jimin. What’s up?”

“How are you doing? Why do you look so pale? See a ghost?” Jimin asks while resting his arm on your shoulder.

You laugh awkwardly. “Ah really? Maybe just from the lack of sleep.”

He looks at you weirdly. “You literally had days off, why did you have a lack of sleep?”

You clear your throat, there is no way you would tell him about what happened and how it bothered your sleep so much. How his best friend and colleague is the reason for your tiredness. “Just some Netflix. Catching some dramas.”

“Really? What drama did you watch?” He asks excitedly.

“Uhh. Itaewon Class?” You let it slip your mouth. You don’t even know what the drama is about, only heard the title from Sehun a week ago.

Jimin looks at you with widened eyes and takes a step backward. “Well, I shouldn’t be too close with you then. I don’t want to be spoiled. I haven’t watched all of the episodes.”

You smile. “Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t.” In the corner of your eyes you can see a familiar man walking to both of you, a man that you want to avoid. Somehow in the middle of a busy lobby, your eyes were still drawn to Jungkook. He still doesn’t see you, which is good news. Checking the elevator, you hiss softly because it is still on the eleventh floor. Too long. “Anyway, I’m gonna have a call first. See you later!” You walk away from Jimin, without spending another glance. You need to get out of there, fast.

You still can’t see him yet.

Lucky for you, you decided to wear sneakers today. At least you can run four flights of stairs without being afraid of sprained ankles.

“Hey Kook!” Jimin calls and waves excitedly. “Overslept?”

Jungkook smiles weakly. “You can say that.” Lie. In fact, he woke up earlier than usual and he went to your apartment, and after two hours of waiting in front of your apartment like a persistent stalker, he finally realized that you’d already left the apartment. But Jimin doesn’t need to know that.

Jimin nods in understanding. “Oh, you know who’s come back to the Company? Y/N! Apparently her days off have ended. Actually, she was here just now.”

“Really?” Jungkook asks with widened eyes. “Where is she now?”

Jungkook’s reaction catches Jimin off-guard. The way Jungkook finally shows some interests in you, makes Jimin happy. “Well.. She said that she’s calling someone. You know, since you can’t have a phone call inside the elevator. But I don’t know where she is.”

Jungkook looks around him, but he still can’t find you. A thought drifts into his head, that you saw him and still didn’t want to meet him. And with that thought, he feels a stab in his heart.

Jungkook, you’re so stupid. You’re drunk stupid.

He wants to hit himself. Oh, he would if he can, especially in front of you. Not that he wants to show off or something, he just wants you to know how terrible and bad he feels about what he’s done. He even swore himself that he won’t get drunk ever again.

You stupid drunk jerk.

Even if you wanted to see him, what should he say? He hasn’t thought about it, and yet he called, messaged, and came to your apartment for three days in desperation.

“Kook?” Jimin asks warily. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Ah. yes. I’m okay.”

Jimin sends a mischievous smile to Jungkook. “You want to run after Y/N, don’t you?” he asks as the elevator finally arrives at their floor.

Jungkook looks at his feet and decides to step into the elevator. If she still doesn’t want to see me, there’s no point for me to force her. “Nah. I don’t want to.”

Lie.

How he wants to see you so much. So damn much it’s hurting him.

“Well-well, who’s there?” Sehun turns his chair to see you, still controlling your breath in front of the door. ”Why are you out of breath?”

“Stairs.” You roll your eyes as you wipe the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. You really need to work out sometimes, not just sitting and living a sedentary lifestyle.

He raises one of his eyebrows. “The elevator is broken?”

You shake your head weakly and sit on your chair. “Just need a little exercise.”

Sehun squints at your face and hums, realizing something is not right about you. “How are you? Okay?”

You nod and sigh. “Yeah.” You send him a weak smile. You look at your desk, it’s clean but you can still see the horrible image burned in your mind. It’s kinda hard for you to just delete it from your memory. Besides, it happened less than a week ago.

“Oh, I also finished your report. I was thinking that at least we should send an actual report, even though the investigation fell apart. What do you think?”

“What? I’m sorry. What are we talking about?” you ask, looking lost.

Sehun sends an assuring smile. “This report. We should send it to the agents. Don’t you think?”

You fiddle the corner of your shirt. “Yeah, I think we should.”

“You want to give it to them?” Sehun asks again. You bite your lips, your mind wanders. Seeing your sudden silence, Sehun rises from his seat and taps your shoulder lightly. “Actually, just stay here. I’ll take it to them.”

You watch his back disappearing from your sight. Again, you’re alone in this office. This office, your second home, but you barely feel comfortable sitting here. The scent of coffee you usually make every day is absent, since Sehun never drinks coffee in the office. You only detect the lemon scent from the air refresher in the corner. It’s supposed to be relaxing but instead, it makes your heart beat rapidly.

You feel sad.

Jungkook sighs again at his desk for God knows how many times. And everytime he sighs, it is just getting louder.

It begins to irritate the other agents around him. Especially since they haven’t been assigned to another case yet. To them, The Case of The Young Man in Distress, is their new case, and it somehow excites them.

Hoseok steals a glance at Taehyung and Jimin, sending signals right then and there. After they nod, they roll their chairs closer to Jungkook’s desk. “What’s up with you, Kook?” Hoseok starts.

Jungkook stares at the screen of his laptop, hands continually moving his mouse without any intention. “I’m fine.”

Taehyung snorts. “No, you’re not. Tell us what happened.”

“I’m fineeee.”

The older men share another look between them, they all look so concerned about Jungkook, but what can they do if Jungkook shuts his own mouth, let alone his feelings?

Jimin notices that their office door is open and yells deliberately loud. “Oh. Here’s our favorite forensic doctor!” It makes Jungkook flinch and Jimin sees Jungkook trying to steal a glance at the door and takes a deep sigh. “Our Sehun-ie. What can we do for you?”

“Just delivering some reports.” Sehun looks at the agents crowding Jungkook’s desk and points directly to Jungkook. “What’s wrong with him?” The agents shrug simultaneously.

“We are trying to find out. Wanna join?” Hoseok pulls another chair beside him, tapping the seat, gesturing to him to sit.

Sehun throws the report on the desk. “I want to. But I also need to find out what happened to my staff too.” Sehun turns his back and waves to them over his shoulder. “She looks troubled and unfocussed. Bad day, I think. See you, then.”

With the sudden drop of information, the three of them look at Jungkook’s reaction, who freezes in his seat. Something must have happened with the two of you.

Jimin asks cautiously. “Did something happen with Y/N?”

“Maybe on the day when you went missing after drinking with Yoongi?” Taehyung adds, which makes the older guys look at him questioningly. “Yoongi-hyung told me.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, instead he sighs and runs his hand through his hair in exasperation. The other agents know that they hit a sore spot. He bites his lips, hesitant to talk to them, but on the other hand, he doesn’t know what to do. Everything he chose seems like a wrong choice. Everything he does seems to push you away even further. “I-I just don’t know what I should do, Hyung.”

Hoseok pats Jungkook’s shoulder softly. “Tell us in detail. We’ll help you.”

And just like that, everything opened in public, well, to his best friends. How his heart feels weird whenever he sees you. How his heart ached when he saw you hurt. How you looked so weak and pained and disappointed when he took you home. How he went to your apartment drunk. How he wanted to apologize to you. How he kissed you drunk and how you pushed him back. How his heart crashed when he saw you cry, sobbing on the floor.

They listen to his story carefully, patting his shoulder several times when he looks like he’s going to burst into tears.

“And now, she doesn’t want to see me. I’ve been trying for three days.”

The silence falls in the room, it is interrupted when Jimin hits Jungkook’s head lightly. “Aigoo, you are an adult now. Stupid, but still, I’m just so proud of how you grew this fast.” Jimin smiles and hugs Jungkook lightly.

Jungkook whines. “Hyung, that’s not the point. What should I do?”

Taehyung suddenly raises his hand in the air. “Wait a minute, if Y/N really likes Jungkook, why did she push him away like that?”

“Well, y’know,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “you didn’t exactly get her permission before you kissed her.”  

Hoseok held his hand up, silencing Jimin and Taehyung. “She might have thought that you just did it out of guilt.” Hoseok says softly. “Or maybe a pity, just a mere responsibility.”

“What?” Jungkook looks at him weirdly.

Hoseok explains further, “You know like a novel, when you hit someone with a car, and he/she lost their ability to walk, so you just decide to be with them? Or remember when you spilled coffee on my report and you decided to write it yourself and also bought me a pair of sneakers?”

“But I didn’t do those things to her out of guilt.” He gulps. “I-I don’t hate her. I don’t even know why I did it.”

Jimin smiles again widely, his eyes turn into crescents. “Are you sure you don’t know? I know that deep down, you know it.”

“Just tell her sincerely then about what you don’t know.” Taehyung smiles and puts his hand on Jungkook’s head, ruffling his hair softly.

Jungkook sighs again. “She doesn’t want to see me.”

“If she really likes you, she’ll come around, Kook.” Hoseok smiles and hugs the younger man. “Now, go find her!”

Jungkook looks at him with widened eyes. “Like, now?”

“Of course, silly. The faster the better.” Jimin laughs. “Go!”

“I don’t know what to say to her, I don’t prepare anything.”

Taehyung looks at Jungkook in disbelief. “What do you want? A teleprompter? Just tell her your feelings, dumbass!”

Weirdly enough, Jungkook rises from his seat and takes off running, leaving his cubicle empty. “I thought you bet that Jungkook won’t end up with her, hyung?” Jimin teases.

Hoseok scratches the back of his neck and smiles. “The moment he told us what happened to him just showed who’s gonna win the bet. And besides, I just want him to be happy.”

Taehyung moves his chair back to his desk. “How about we change our bet to another topic then? We have plenty of subjects to bet about.”

You rack your brain, trying to find a place where you won’t meet Jungkook. And after mentally listing the places, you decided to hide in the infirmary. It’s unused and no one is gonna be there. So you can hide for a moment. Just like when you’re in high school, you fake a stomach ache, just so you can get some sleep or when you forgot to bring your math textbook.

Well, five minutes of sleep are considered a privilege then, as you hear the door opened.

You look from inside a curtain, trying to identify the man who just came in with a cart full of cleaning supplies. Cleaning service? The man quietly sweeps the floor skillfully, and you suddenly feel that you shouldn’t be there, as you’re just gonna disturb his job. Just as you open the curtain harshly, you tilt your head in confusion. “Jin?”

Jin looks at you in surprise, almost dropping the broom on his hand. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Resting,” you say with an awkward smile. “What are you doing here? What’s with the broom and the gloves?”

Jin sighs and turns away from you, continuing to sweep the floor. “Cleaning.”

“Do you do this every day?” It’s just so weird for such an elite agent doing some cleaning in this place. Especially, since the Company also hires a cleaning service.

“No. Just every few days. Since it’s not used, it doesn’t get dirty that fast. I just clean this room when the cleaning service has their day off.” Jin answers lightly as he picks a towel to wipe the surface of the table.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my hobby,” Jin pauses and looks at the white wall. “or maybe I just hope that she’ll come back. You know right that she hates dust?” He laughs awkwardly. He clears his throat and looks at you warily. “Are-are you still in touch with her?”

“No.” You look at him quietly, somehow you can see his pain from his wide shoulder. It’s been a few years, but Jin is still hung up on her, still missing her. “Are you okay?” you ask cautiously.

Jin scoffs and walks away again, wiping the cabinet this time, “why? Do I look pathetic?”

You shake your head softly. “No. But you look broken-hearted.”

He turns his head to face you, looking into your eyes. “Well, so do you.”

Your jaw clenches, like how he hit your spot correctly. Tears threaten to fall down and you try to stop it by biting your lips. At the moment, you feel weaker and sad. You sigh and look at your feet. “What’s new?” you laugh dryly.

Jin puts away his supplies and removes his gloves as he walks to you, and plops on the bed beside you. “What happened?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I was just thinking that mayb-”

“Alright, I’m gonna stop you right there. You’re not thinking. It’s an assumption.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Wh-what?”

He sighs, “Whatever your problem was, and whoever he was, you’re overthinking this.”

“You don’t even know what the problem is.”

“I don’t. But I believe that you need to talk to him regardless of what the problem is, not talk to your mind, making assumptions. You know, the key to a healthy relationship is communication, and it applies to every relationship. Business, family, or even Love.” Jin sends you a smile. “Just talk to him. The misunderstanding won’t solve itself.”

You sigh again. “What if it doesn’t work? What if it’s not a misunderstanding but a mistake?”

“Then talk a little more. Apologize if you need to. Forgive if you still want to be with him.” Jin stops, and swallows slowly. His voice cracks. “Fight for it, if it is worth fighting for, until you can’t fight anymore. Until you don’t have any regrets.”

You look at him carefully. You’ve never talked to him ever since you worked in the Company, let alone seeing his eyes like this. But now, you can see how he’s deep in pain. And you understand what he talked about. His experience. The thoughts of what he should have done before. The choices he regrets now.

You hop from the bed and walk to the door. “Thank you. I’ll try.” As you walk closer to the door, you turn to face him again. “She must have a reason, Jin. I don’t know what it was, but she would never hurt you.”

“I know.” Jin answers quickly. He darts his eyes away from you so that he can hide his watering eyes, and smiles. “So does Jungkook.”

I know.

You walk out from the elevator, squeezing your body from the others inside. It’s lunch time already, and you’re lucky enough that you can slip into the crowded elevator.

Seventh floor is quiet, but not as deserted as the last time you went there. You look around you, hoping to see a particular person. The one you need to see. The one you miss.

You sigh, heart thumping inside your chest. You’re not gonna lie that you’re nervous, and that’s not because of the thought of seeing Jungkook again. It’s the thought, an assumption, of what he’s gonna say. You’re afraid of hearing his reason, afraid that it’ll break your heart even more.

A little part of you tells you that it’s better this way, and just move on. But you realize, playing hide and seek with him won’t solve any problem. It will just hurt you, or both of you. If you need to move on from him, at least there’s no loose ends. And Jungkook deserves a chance to explain everything to you, in person.

“Y/N?”

You turn your head to the man calling you and sigh disappointedly. “Oh, hey Yoongi.”

Yoongi laughs a little. “Why do you always bump into me when you’re looking for Jungkook?” Yoongi looks more professional since the last time you met him, maybe because he’s sober right now, or because he wears a neat suit instead of his black hoodie.

You smile, feeling embarrassed that you’ve been found out. “How do you know that I’m looking for him?”

He shrugs, “nah, I just feel that there’s something about you two that needs to be finished.”

“Oh. I see.” You divert your gaze from him, “So, where can I find him?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know. I just came here.” He stretches his pale arms and continues, “y’know, overslept. Actually, maybe Jungkook is in the training room. He usually trains himself when he feels stressed about something.”

Your jaw clenches with the sudden information, forcing yourself to smile once more. “Thank you, I’ll get going then.”

You nod and walk again to the elevator, just the moment it arrives. When you’re inside the elevator, Yoongi yells to you, “He feels bad, Y/N---” You can only hear a snatch from him as the door closes, stopping you from hearing the full sentence.

I know.

You’ve been pacing the corridor for almost fifteen minutes, staring at the men’s locker room door. You perk your head to the door, every time it opens. And every time you do it, you’re left with another disappointment. Not to mention, all of the other male agents stare at a suspicious woman who’s lurking in front of a locker room.

Except one agent.

“Doctor Y/N?”

You’re leaning on the wall while massaging your calves. You squint in order to see the man approaching you better. “Kim Namjoon?”

Namjoon pauses in front of you, sending a warm smile. He’s drying his hair with the towel and his other hand holds a gym bag. “Yes, I don’t think I’ve introduced myself properly to you. Please just call me Namjoon.” He drops his bag to the ground clumsily, making some of his things flow out from the unzippered bag, reaching out his hand to shake yours. “I’m afraid that Jungkook is not here.”

Your eyes widen. “Ho-how do you know that I’m looking for him?”

He laughs and drops to one knee to gather his fallen things. “Just a little guess. A little bird told me that you’ve been working with him, so, yeah, I just thought that it might be a work thing.”

“Have you seen him anywhere then?” you sigh.

“I’m afraid not, Doc. I’ve been in the training room since dawn, haven’t seen him anywhere near here.” Namjoon smiles apologetically as he hangs his bag over his shoulder. “Have you checked the pool? He’s been wanting to practice diving since our last mission in Hawaii.”

You shake your head softly. “I haven’t, I’m gonna check there then. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Doc. You see, Jungkook is sometimes a little hard to talk to, looks distant, shy, and confused, maybe because he joined us at such an early age, but he is a nice guy.” Namjoon laughs again as he walks away from you, leaving you standing alone in the corridor.

I know.

Jungkook walks quickly to your office as soon as the elevator opens on your floor. He still doesn’t know what to say, but he just can’t let you escape him, avoid him again. He will use everything he’s got to at least explain a thing or two to you, and if the universe accedes, maybe he can tell you a little part of his feelings. Or maybe more.

Just one step at a time, Jungkook. You can do this.

It’s weird how he feels more nervous right now than when he goes to a mission. Usually he can just barge through any door without feeling any fear, but right now? He can feel how his heart almost bursts inside his chest. Is that because he doesn’t have his gun with him? Or is it because you are on the other side of the door?

He sighs. He doesn’t know anymore.

Maybe it is because he doesn’t know anything that is going to happen when he opens the door. Maybe it is because his brain can’t work for another plan B if his original plan fails. Maybe it is because it is a do or die for him, sounds a little extreme, but actually this is maybe the last chance for him to let his feelings take control of him.

Mustering all of his courage, he knocks the door and opens it slowly. “Excuse me?”

A chair suddenly rolls from the desk. “Hey JK. What’re you doin’ here?” Sehun asks and looks at him quizzically. “Is there something wrong with the report?”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly. “That’s not why I’m here.” He swallows dryly. “I’m looking for Y/N..”

“Y/N?” Sehun raises one of his eyebrows. “Funny you asked that. The fact is I haven’t seen her anywhere since I went to your office.”

“Really? Okay then, I’ll just search for her somewhere else.” Jungkook nods politely and walks to the door.

“Why don’t you just call her?” Sehun asks loudly.

Jungkook looks at him, and gives him a weak smile. Sehun doesn’t need to know that you’ve been avoiding Jungkook’s calls, right? “Thank you, I’ll try.”

After he closes the door, Jungkook walks to the stairwell next to him. With a sigh he sits on one of the stairs. He pulls his phone from his pocket, looking at it like it’s a foreign thing to him. His finger scrolls to the contacts and looks for your name.

There’s no specific thing to describe your name in his contact. And by specific, it means you aren’t saved in his contacts. The only thing that describes you is your phone number, which he memorizes already because of how much time he spent looking at it and how many times he tried to call you in the past few days.

He looks again in his contacts. It’s less than a dozen. The only contacts in his phone are his parents, his brother, and his best friends. That’s it.

He remembers when he received your message for the first time, he almost accidentally deleted it because he received it at the same time he received another spam message. Only God knows what would happen if he deleted it for real. Would you still get hurt? Would you still want to tease him? Would it still be the same?

Or would he still have this growing feeling inside him?

He sighs and then inputs your phone number, but before he dials it, he chooses another option.

Add to new contact.

Name: Y/N

Save?

Saved

Jungkook looks at his newly added contact and finally dials your number, hoping that you would accept it this time. Hoping that somehow his sincere feelings felt through the rings on your phone. Hoping that he can say the right things this time.

And after the seventh rings, the call went through.

Jungkook can finally hear your voice. “Hello, Y/N?” There’s a silence on the other end of the phone for a little while. It begins to make him more nervous. “Y/N?”

“Jungkook?” but it’s not your voice. It’s a familiar voice for him that he hears a lot.

Jungkook looks at the screen, makes sure he got the correct phone number. He furrows his eyebrow, confused at why you didn’t answer your own phone. “Jin-Hyung?”

“Right.” Jin laughs. “Y/N left her phone in the infirmary. She just went out to look for you.”

“Oh.” Jungkook sighs in relief. “Wh-what? She’s looking for me?”

“Yes, kid. God, I don’t know what your problem is to make both of you playing hide and seek in the middle of the day, but yes, she’s looking for you right now. But I don’t really know where she went.”

A little smile plastered on Jungkook’s face, somehow he feels a little happy that you finally decided to give him a chance to explain himself. And with only that fact, he won’t lose this chance. “Thanks Hyung! Talk to you later!”

“Yah-”

Jungkook hangs his phone up, and stands up immediately. But if he just walks around and looks for you in this big building, it is just a waste of time. There’s a fat chance that he won’t meet you at all, and in this crucial time for him, he can’t rely on fate alone.

So, he taps his phone again, scrolling to find a chatting platform that he rarely uses, and looks for a group chat with his best friends, typing quickly and hits the send button. This time he’s gonna rely on his friends.

Jungkook 00.23 PM: Have you seen Y/N?

You open the heavy door to the pool area with an afraid look on your face. What if Jungkook suddenly appears before you? What would you do? What would you say? What if he doesn’t want to see you?

But luckily (or unlucky for you), there’s no one in the pool. Everyone must be taking their lunch time, leaving this place completely empty.

You sigh and walk around, deciding to look at this place a little more. Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook will suddenly pop out of nowhere, hugging you from behind like some of the rom-com movies that you usually watched in your teen years.

A sudden loud bang of a door opening filled the place, making you turn your head abruptly, hoping that the universe finally sends some signals to you. But instead, you just see a man pushing a cleaning supplies cart. You are disappointed.

Why do you even feel disappointed? There’s only a little chance for Jungkook to just walk through the door. You laugh to yourself and shake your head. Maybe I should just call him.

You pat your pants to locate your phone, and a little panic goes through you as you can’t find your phone. Where is it? Did I drop it? You try to remember when the last time you used your phone. You usually don’t behave like this; for you, your phone is one of your most important things. You never walk without a phone as you have everything you need in that mini gadget. Maybe this Jungkook thing is really bothering me.

You turn and walk to the door hurriedly, you need to find your phone back and also Jungkook. You can’t just wait mindlessly in here. Just when your hand reaches the door knob, you sense the cleaning man walking to you.

“Are you Doctor Y/N?”

You look at the man, sending him a polite nod. “Ah yes. Don’t worry, I won’t disturb your job here, I’m going now.” The man looks like he is in his early 30s. You can’t really see his face, since it’s hidden with his blue baseball cap. He wears a blue jumpsuit, a usual uniform for the cleaning service. But why does it look like it’s too big for him?

The man smiles back. “Oh my. That’s fine. Actually I have a package for you.” The man rummages through his cart, searching for something. “From a man, named Jungkook, I think? He’s been searching for you.”

“Jungkook?” ears perk in curiosity.

He smiles again, almost a grin. “Yes.” the man laughs at himself as he pulls a black metal thing from the cart and points it to you. “He’s been searching for you.”

You look at him with widened eyes. A gun. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing, sweetie?” the man laughs maniacally, the sounds send shivers to your spine, making you step back unconsciously, your back hitting the door. You move your hand behind your back, trying to locate the door knob. “Uh-uh. Do not move. I don’t want to shoot your pretty face.”

Your heart races in fear., “Wh-what do you want from me?”

“The autopsy report, where is it?”

Your jaw drops as your mind wanders to the incident last Sunday, the one that probably will leave some scars on your hands. “Were you the one who trashed my office?”

“That’s right.” The man steps a little closer and pushes the gun closer to your face. “The report. Where do you keep it?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t have it.” Tears start threatening to fall from your eyes when the man seems unsatisfied with your answer and pulls your hair harshly. “I-I gave it up.”

He pulls your hair again until you meet his eyes. “Don’t fucking lie to me. Or do you want me to start shooting everyone who comes into this room?” He laughs again. “You’re waiting for someone right? What if he suddenly pops in right now, and my hand just slips?”

You widen your eyes and you can see his eyes, and they don’t show that he’s lying. You can see how crazy he is. “I-I think it’s on the seventh floor..”

Just after he hears your answer, he releases your hair. With a sudden lack of grip, your feet give up, making you slump on the ground. “Good choice. Now stand up. We’re going to the seventh floor.”

“Bu-but I just told you. You should let me go.”

He scoffs. “And how would I know if you’re just lying to me? Stand up!” He grips your elbow harshly, forcing you to stand in front of him. You can feel his cold gun on your back, pushing to walk forward. “Don’t do anything funny, or I might shoot others. I only want this to be just the two of us.”

Your lips tremble and your throat goes dry. You wipe your tears and take a deep breath, trying to find your courage and strength to walk. You open the door with a heavy heart, wishing silently that you won’t meet anyone in the corridor and on your way up to the seventh floor.

You walk slowly to the elevator, with the man following behind you with his cart. Whispering right there to remind you that he has a gun. Your stomach twists. You want to run away. Your hands turn into fists, sending a light pain from the still-recovering wounds. Luckily, the pain happens to keep your mind intact, make you stay sane. But still, you can’t think of anything that you can do to save yourself.

Sure, you worked for months in an agent secret service. But that doesn’t mean you can do martial arts or guns. You didn’t receive any of that training. So even in this high-security building, you’re just an ordinary woman. An unlucky one.

Wait. High-security building?

You look left and right cautiously to find CCTV cameras above you, maybe someone will see this?

The man behind you laughs again. “You think I’d sneak here with no preparation? No one in the security room is going to watch this. I’ve taken care of them.”

You choke, your heart quickens. “You.. you. Wha-what? What did you do to them?”

“There’s no need for you to know, sweetie.” He laughs again. ”It’s just gonna make you feel bad.”

You bite your lips, trying your hardest to hold your tears. This man is sick. And just then, the elevator’s door opens.

You swallow dryly and walk inside the elevator. Sighing in relief again because there’s no one inside. You reach your hand shakily, trying to push the seven button on the elevator, but just as the door closes, a hand sneaks in and it opens again.

Your eyes widen with the sight of the man, panting before you. “Jungkook?” Why are you here?

Jungkook still holds open the door with his one hand as he controls his breaths. “We.. We need to talk.”

You steal a glance at the man behind you, who acts like wiping the interior of the elevator. Your hands turn clammy. Maybe Jungkook can help you. Maybe Jungkook can save you. If this is the chance that the universe sends to you, you should take it, right? It is a perfect opportunity for you to lose the man behind you.

But, what if he shoots someone? Or worse, what if he shoots Jungkook?

You take a deep breath, your eyes looking at your feet, afraid of looking at Jungkook’s face. “The-there’s nothing for us to talk about,” you say coldly, pushing his hand away from the door and pushes the close button.

But this time, Jungkook is persistent. He doesn’t want to let you slip away from him. Again. “No.” He reaches out his hand again to block the door from closing. “We have to talk. You need to hear my explanation, at least.”

“I don’t want to!!” You push him away again, this time on his body, until he steps backward from the elevator. You don’t even realize how your hands tremble against his hard chest, how tears fall on your face like a waterfall. “Please... Just leave me alone…”

You step back inside the elevator, pushing the close door button again. But this time, Jungkook lets you.

If this is the last time I can see him….

You lift your head up to take a glance of his face from the closing door. You can’t see him clearly as your eyes filled with tears, and just like that. You sob on the ground of the elevator after the door closes, clenching your chest to tone down the tightening pain you feel.

“Well-well. Such a good girl.” The man behind you claps his hand. “Don’t worry, he’ll forgive you after he knows what happened with you and what you did for him.” He reaches to touch your cheek, which makes you flinch.

“You’re just a sick bastard,” you hiss, glaring to him.

He chuckles at your response and hits your face with his gun. He grabs your chin in his hand tightly, forcing you to see his eyes. “You’re really testing my patience, aren’t you?”

You’re shaking in his hands, a throbbing pain on your forehead also makes it worse. He releases your chin harshly and forces you to stand up as the car approaches the seventh floor. He pushes his gun again harshly on your side, with his other hand holding you close to him. You can feel his nasty breath on your neck.

I’m so going to die.

As the door opens and you walk through, that thought keeps lingering on your mind and it’s growing bigger with each step you take, and you can’t seem to shake it off. You can’t do anything right now, the only thing you can do is cry in silence, hope that at least it can ease your mind for a bit. But it doesn’t.

Why?

Because you don’t fucking know where the report is, exactly.

Jungkook remains speechless, his hands trying to reach for your hands but they escape him, leaving him grabbing the empty air. He only sees you walk back inside the elevator and he’s sure that he sees your tears when your eyes meet him.

He doesn’t understand you at all. Why then did Jin tell him that you want to see him? And why now you don’t want to? His hands turn into fists. He bites his lips harshly in desperation. Where are you going anyway?

No, he can’t just stay here. He needs to chase you. He needs to talk to you. He can’t let you again. He reaches his hand to push the elevator button but he stops midway.

Wait, why is there a cleaning service today?

He furrows his eyebrow, deep in thoughts, trying to remember any details of the cleaning service he saw earlier. He only looks at the cleaning service for a bit, he knows that it is a man, but Jungkook can’t really see his face since he faced the wall. He remembers the man turned his face when the door was closing, and Jungkook can see a bit of his face under the baseball cap. And suddenly his face turns white. He curses quietly and runs to the stairwell, not bothering to take the elevator anymore.

Jungkook grabs his phone from his pocket and scrolls to find Jin’s contact as he runs multiple steps at once. This might be dangerous and he needs his other agents, if what he’s thinking is true. If what he’s been afraid of come into reality.

“Hey, Jungkook-ah. Wha-”

“I saw Baekhyun, hyung. He was in the elevator with Y/N. I think they went to the seventh floor.” He says it quickly, interrupting Jin. Jungkook silently hopes that Jin can hear it perfectly as it is muffled with his pants and breaths.

Jin’s breath hitches on the other side of the phone. “What? Are you sure?”

“I’m not sure, I just saw him at a glance. I’m heading up right now. Tell the others!”

“Alright! Be careful!” Jin says and ends the phone call.

Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket and runs again. He runs, and runs, and runs, ignoring the fact that his lungs start burning in his chest.

Please be okay.

Like a spell, he repeats it over and over again. Like a prayer, he repeats it sincerely in his heart over and over again. Like a song, it is played in his mind over and over again.

I’m not going to let him hurt her again.

Like a vow, he says with all of his life.

He’s going to protect the woman he loves.

The silence in the seventh floor sends an eerie feeling to you, making your heart racing faster. Only God knows where the hell is the others when you need them. You feel the cold gun on your side, pushing harshly against your body. It is one of the things that makes you aware of what you’re doing right now, besides a throbbing pain on your head.

Baekhyun pushes you forward again. “So, where is it?”

You freeze on the spot, your hands getting clammy. You swallow dryly. “I-I’m not sure…”

“You what?” His eyes widen in anger and he shoves your body into a wall, sending a blunt pain to your back. “You dare to lie to me?” His hands somehow move to your neck, strangling it tightly.

You’re struggling to break free from his grip, kicking right and there, using all of your strength to push his hands away. Your chest is burning due to the lack of oxygen. Tears fall from your eyes. You feel weaker the more strongly you fight back and your eyes get blurry. Your consciousness fades along with the slowing of your heart beat.

And suddenly, Baekhyun releases you as he stumbles. You drop to the ground as you struggle to breath as much as you can. You open your eyes slowly, trying to see what’s he doing and there you see he is pushed to the ground by a familiar man.

Jungkook.

Jungkook hits Baekhyun as hard as he can. Baekhyun is perplexed for a second but after he processes what’s happening he starts to fight back. Baekhyun kicks Jungkook in the stomach. The situation turns around as Jungkook is pushed under him. The sound of the fight blares in your ears, trying to wake you up. You wince in pain as you gather all of your strength to stand up. You need to find help.

“Run!” Jungkook yells as he holds Baekhyun’s body tightly.

Baekhyun snarls, using his elbow to hit Jungkook’s nose, pushing him away. Your hands shake as Baekhyun suddenly changes his view to you and charges you, not giving you a chance to run away. Baekhyun pulls his gun from his pocket and points it to you. Your feet freeze as your eyes meet Baekhyun’s. “Bitch.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight before him and curses himself. He can’t believe that Baekhyun has a gun with him and through his laxity, Jungkook didn’t strip it. Jungkook groans and stands quickly to run to you. Please be okay.

Just as Baekhyun pulls the trigger, Jungkook jumps in front of you. The bullets pierce his right chest and his stomach. His body falls to the ground because of the impact. The blood starts seeping from his body.

Your jaw drops. You’re familiar with the smell of blood. You’re familiar also with the smell of the gunpowder. And when both of them are somehow incorporated in the air, it gives you a brand new smell that’s sickening.

The tears still fall from your eyes as you flop beside Jungkook, hesitantly touching him. Just less than an hour ago, you were dreaming about meeting him in a romantic way, but now this is only tragic.  sharp pain clutches your chest, making it hard for you to breathe again. Your thoughts are only filled with Jungkook but you can’t do anything.

But Jungkook is strong, maybe one of the strongest agents in the Company. So Jungkook sits up and moves you behind him, covering you perfectly.

“Kook…” you whisper in between sobs.

Jungkook keeps you behind him with his arms slightly trembling, gently soothing your skin. “I’m okay. Just stay behind me.” Even the slightest movement of his arms makes his chest hurt even more, but Jungkook hides it in his smile. The only thing in his head is how to make you get out of here safely, and he doesn’t care about the pain. Not when you are his priority.

Jungkook slowly lets go of his hands and stands up. You see how the blood spots are getting bigger and bigger, how it affects his posture as he loses his balance lightly. And after a few deep breaths, he puts on a stance, looking at Baekhyun with furious eyes.

Baekhyun snorts. “You think you can fight me bare-handed?” He still points his gun toward the both of you.

Without answering, Jungkook leaps forward to attack Baekhyun. It leaves Baekhyun caught off guard as he begins to fire the gun carelessly. Still, it grazes Jungkook’s body as he moves closer to him.

Not only that Jungkook is one of the strongest agents in the company, he has a killer kick. It’s the one that made the Company recruit him in the first place. He rarely uses it in his fights because he rarely has a chance to have hand-to-hand combat, and even if he had a chance, he doesn’t need to use it. And if Jungkook decides to use his best skills in this fight, there’s no way for Baekhyun to win. Jungkook begins to kick him again in his stomach and tries to target his hand.

And Baekhyun knows it too. So Jungkook begins to kick him again in his stomach and tries to target his hand. While Baekhyun stumbles, he fires his last bullet.

To your direction.

It’s too late for Jungkook to realize it, to jump again in front of you. As the bullet hits your shoulder, the new pain makes you fall back from the impact. Jungkook curses and turns his body to kick Baekhyun’s hand, sending the gun flying far from them and holding his hand to throw his body, locking him in between his legs, in a way that Baekhyun can’t move.

The doors and elevator open almost at the same time, and the agents barge in to arrest Baekhyun. Finally.

“Y/N!” Hoseok runs to you and shakes your shoulders. “Are you okay?” He helps you slowly sit up, carefully not to touch your wounds.

It’s over now… You sigh in relief, but your eyes turn panic when you see Jungkook’s shirt almost turn to pinkish, a mix of his blood and his sweat. “Kook…” and just as his name falls on your lips, Jungkook stumbles and drops to the ground.

Jimin and Taehyung move quickly to Jungkook to check on him. They look panicky as they move Jungkook’s body to a gurney with the help of paramedics. ”I’m going with him to the hospital.” Jimin says to Hoseok.

Hoseok nods and turns his face to you, his eyes falling on your bloodied shoulder. “Let’s get you to the hospital too.” He holds your elbow softly, helping you stand.

And just like that, everything turns black.

You open your eyes slowly. The harsh lights blind you and you blink as you adjust to it. You are met by the white ceiling above and white curtains all around you. The familiar smell of disinfectant steals into your nose, waking you up even more. You try to move your arms, to help you sit up, but there’s a shooting pain to your right shoulder. “Argh.”

“Yah. Y/N, you can’t move that carelessly!” Jimin yells as he puts his hand behind your back to help you.

You shake your head softly. “I’m okay. Where’s Jungkook?”

“He’s in his room. The surgery went well. Don’t worry.” Jimin says reassuringly and pushes your shoulder lightly to make you stay in the bed.

But you refuse, swinging your legs slowly over the edge of your bed. “I want to see him..” You use your left hand to hold the IV poll. But as your feet land on the floor, your body stumbles. Luckily, Jimin was holding you from falling. “I’m okay, I’m okay…”

Jimin looks at you with worry in his eyes. He holds your elbow tightly. “Y/N, you don’t look so well. Just rest for a bit.”

You shake your head again, tears threatening to fall again. “Please… let me see him just for a bit…”

He sighs. He knows how stubborn you are, and you won’t back down. “Fine. Hold on to me, okay? Tell me if you have any pain.”

Luckily, Jungkook’s room is just a few rooms from yours. Just when you are about to open his door, you hear voices yelling inside.

“Yah! You can’t move!”

“Jungkook-ah! Are you crazy?”

“She’s fine! Just stay in the bed!”

Your eyes widen in panic. You let go of Jimin’s arms and rush forward inside Jungkook’s room. The only thing in your mind is Jungkook, and Jungkook only. You want to make sure he’s okay. You want to see him again.

And your eyes meet his.

The other agents hold him tightly as he tries to walk to the door. He looks pale and pained, there’s bruises in his body. You see the bandages sneaking out from his gown. And it just makes your heart break and relieved at the same time. “Kook?”

His doe eyes look you from head to toe, blinking his teary eyes to see you clearer. “Y/N?”

His voice.

Your favorite one.

The only thing that gives you strength to step forward. The only thing that can make you run. The only thing that can make your heart leap.

And just like that you run to him, run to his embrace, rushing forward clumsily while dragging the IV poll.

Jungkook holds you tightly to his chest, not even caring if you jostle his wounds. He doesn’t even care if he feels the pain, in fact, he is glad he can feel it. So that he knows that this is real. That you are wrapped in his arms, still living and breathing before him.

Jungkook lets your scent and warmth envelop his body and he can feel the relief straight into his heart. He takes your face in his hands, looking at it carefully. He gulps a little when he spots a little wound on your forehead and bruises on your neck. “Are-are you okay?”

You sniff and let your tears fall from your eyes as you nod weakly. “Are you okay? Let’s get you back to your bed.”

“I’m okay,” he giggles but lets you hold him and take him back to the bed. And when you stumble again because of his weight, the other agents hop in to help both of you. Jin and Taehyung hold Jungkook and walk him to his bed while Jimin helps you.

Hoseok smiles at you as he drags a chair next to the bed, “We’re gonna let you talk for a bit, okay? Don’t talk too long, you both need to rest.” He pushes the other agents outside, giving you and Jungkook privacy.

It’s silent again.

But it’s comforting. And you kinda miss it.

It’s funny how just with the presence of Jungkook can stir your heart completely. Just by the presence of him, he can turn your mood around.

You bite your lips and fiddle with your gown. “Thank you for saving me. It must have hurt a lot.”

Jungkook smiles and reaches your face to wipe your tears away. “I’m sorry I didn’t come faster. You must have been frightened.”

And there it breaks you. Jungkook is the one who hurt the most, and yet he is the one who feels sorry. He is in pain, but he still thinks of you. What can you do to deserve to be with this nice man? No, you don’t deserve it all. And it just aches your heart even more. “What are you talking about….” you sob and turn away from him as you try your hard to stop the tears falling from your eyes.

Jungkook reaches your hand softly. “Please don’t turn away from me.. Please?” His other hand moves to pat your head lovingly. “Can we please have that talk now?”

You pout. “No. You need to rest. We can talk about it anytime after you get better.”

“I don’t want to. I have to tell you right now.” He takes a deep sigh. “I’ll go crazy if I keep this any longer.”

“But…”

“I’m sorry for what I did to you in your apartment. I was drunk and made stupid mistakes. I’m sorry.”

You nod quickly. “Yes, I know and I’ve forgiven you. Now, you should have some rest…”

“I didn’t know why I did it, but just so you know, I’ve always wanted to kiss you. I think I felt too rushed, but I didn’t do it just to tease you or make fun of your feelings. It’s jus-”

“Wait, what?” You look at him puzzled and raise one of your eyebrows. “You-you wanted to kiss me?”

He tilts his head at your response. “Yeah?”

“But, why?”

He takes a close look at your face, and swallows dryly. “Because I like you, Y/N.”

There is a pregnant silence as you blink your eyes, processing the sudden bomb of information. “Huh?” You scratch the back of your head confusedly. “You like me? Since when?”

He blushes as he smiles. “I don’t know. It just happened, I guess… Wait, you didn’t know?”

“Duh, this is an expression of a person who knew about it,” you say sarcastically as you point to your face.

Jungkook’s jaw drops. “I really thought I made myself really clear. Even the others knew about it!” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Anyway, I just felt so rushed because you’re gonna leave soon and I thought I’m gonna lose my chance. Also it might be because these feelings are little new for me, so I was a little confused. But I-”

“But I’m still with this Company for another 4 months…”

It’s his turn to process the information and then his face turns red as he lets go of your hand. “I thought… I’m just… hmmm. I’m gonna take my confession back then…”

“No! I won’t let you take it back.” You reach for his hand, holding it tightly. You look at him with a determination in your eyes and smile widely from ear to ear. “Thank you, I’m happy to hear it.”

Jungkook replies with a smile too as he sighs in relief. “But still, I have to say it again properly someday.”

You giggle as you squeeze his hand. “Sure, let’s take this slowly. We have a lot of time.”

You both hold each others’ hands with smiles on your faces. No word exchanged, as you both know how happy you are. How relieved you are to finally hold his warm hand again. How excited you are to guess what will happen to both of you. How ecstatic you are as you feel your heart races inside your chest.

The air freshener sprays in the corner of the room, breaking the silence between both of you. The scent of vanilla disperses in the air. Filling the room with nothing but sweet scent. Usually, you always stay away from the sweet type of smell and stick with anything musky, floral, or maybe just natural ones. But now, this specific type of smell becomes your favorite one. The sweetest scent to remind you about him. The sweetest scent that you can have everyday without feeling sick.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, “I know, you said to take this slowly. But I just can’t help it…” He looks at you with pinkish cheeks as he squeezes your hand. “Can-can I kiss you?”

You reply with nothing but a smile and nod. You lean in a little so he can be closer to you just for a little bit. And just like that, he takes your face in his hands slowly and connects his lips with yours.

And you can feel it, how your hearts are connecting too.

Go check the other series because *sst... It’s all connected!

Series Masterlist: The Company

Taglist: @kb-bangtanenthusiast @w0lfqu33n @gee-nee @jaienn @nctssidehoe @codeinebelle​ @kali-20 @mygalaxysupernova​ @jeoncookie-bts​ @kookunot​ @1-in-abillion​ @beingbeings​ @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @yiyi4657​ @jinsalpaca​ @giadalin​ @spring2787​ @drmrastraea​ @katbonv​ @fluffyjoons​ @baebyjoonie​

Taglist open!

[ggukkiedae]

❝𝕣𝕦𝕟 𝕓𝕥𝕤 𝕖𝕡. 𝟠𝟛-𝟠𝟝❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ when you put bangtan in a resort that’s basically a water park

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. requests and feedback are highly appreciated!

Episode 83

yoonmi was practically drowning in the big shirt over her rashguard, so you can see her tying it at her waist while the others introduce the episode

“today’s run bts’s theme is summer outing”

“oh god, i’m not good at sports”

jungkook and her met eyes and “i got you, mimi” “hopefully we’re on the same team”

she got grouped with namjoon, hoseok, and seokjin

while the other team celebrated, she laughed while hoseok and seokjin lifted her up with their arms forming a makeshift throne

“oppas, please, i’m not good with sports”

she cheered when hoseok was called out to do the warm up exercises

she was giggling the whole warm up “why are we doing dance basics?”

she stretched out on the side, pulling her legs up into a scorpion position one at a time before sitting by the side of the pool. seokjin lifted her from under her armpits and placed her in the pool where the water reached her chest, almost to her collar bones

she exchanged looks with her teammates

“we’re at a huge disadvantage” “you’re telling me? they have ggukoo oppa, and he’s a powerhouse! i’m a noodle”

the game starts, and it shows the chaotic mess of the members. then there’s a one shot of her lightly splashing around in the water with squeaky noises layered on it

taehyung laughs and calls a time out around half way into the game “hold on, we’re at second set, and yoonmi’s just been playing in the back the whole time” “but, oppa, i’m literally armpit deep in the water!”

everyone laughs and calls her over to stand near their net with the caption “makdungie with no competitive bone” around her

surprisingly, she was able to hit the ball to the back where yoongi couldn’t reach

buuut they lost the second round

“i told you guys i can’t play”

for the third set, she was in front once again and the ball was just constantly sailing over her head. eventually she pouts

“i’m short, this isn’t fair”

to which hoseok just laughs and pats her head

she cheers when jungkook hits the ball softer for her to hit

but then he hits it back way too hard and it goes far behind them

“oppa,” she gasped at a laughing jungkook “are you mad?”

she hit the last ball, and they won the third set. the other three cheered and pulled her into a group hug

there’s a clip of yoonmi struggling to get out of the pool so jungkook lifts her out

next cut she’s in protective gear looking nervously at the boat

“are we gonna fly off? i can’t really swim” “that’s why you have a life vest, princess”

her eyes widened when she saw how fast and rocky the little boat was moving

“oppas! is it hard to stay on?”

all she could hear was screaming. she looked at seokjin “i’m gonna die” “no you’re not” “yes i am”

then it was their turn to get on. jungkook lightly tapped the side of her helmet “you’ll be fine. just hold tight”

her eyes and mouth are squeezed shut while they’re going, and she screams when the boat jumps

“125x7” “oppas, it’s 875, let’s do this fast so we can get off fast”

namjoon laughed “terror made you smarter makdungie”

then the boat moves once again

they arrive on land and she just lies down on the wooden floor

“oh my god, i’m never doing that again”

jimin shook his head fondly and pulled her to the others where they had chicken

she was zoned out and the caption on her one-shot said “the most stressed she’s been in her 19 years of life”

Episode 84

she was a lot more lively in the next game

“i like slides, this will be fun”

they chose her to go last and she grinned

she sat on where they were standing and clapped her hands when she saw the other members going down

by the time it was her and jungkook’s turn, the two maknaes cheerfully went up the slide

“they’re the only one’s not scared” namjoon noted

seokjin gave a confused look “which is surprising for yoonmi, but she enjoys slides too much”

she and jungkook did little wiggly dances when the pd asked if they were ready making the other members laugh

they went down, and she made sure to curl herself into a ball the moment she was off the slide

she stayed in the air considerably long before unfolding her body

once they hit the water, she floated up and wiped her face while laughing. jungkook pulled her with him to the side where she wasn’t even fazed at the news of losing

“it was fun!”

when taehyung went and forgot to say the s in bts, she fell to the ground in laughter

for the bob jump, they asked her if she would be able to do it to which she said no and curled up next to yoongi who also wasn’t doing it

“have fun, oppas”

she watched in awe while jungkook went and audibly gasped when she saw how high he went

“yup, i could not have managed that”

yoongi pulled her back to a chair where he kept her on his lap, wrapping them both in a towel to keep them warm while they watched the others

she sneezed a few times before yoongi looked at the on site medic

then they were on the platform by the obstacle course

“as you can see, we’re only seven now, but only six of us will be participating since hobi is feeling seasick, and yoonmi developed a slight fever, so we aren’t letting her play in case it gets worse”

“i want to go on the obstacle course, though,” yet she was silenced by six pairs of eyes silently telling her no to which she sighed

she sat on the blue platform to watch, but the staff told her to go wash up and get dressed in something warm. she pouted but hugged the six boys before running off

Episode 85

she appeared a little worse for wear with her hood up over her head.

jimin stood up and opened his arms

“aigoo, aegi, come here”

she sulked towards him and settled in a hug

“you’re burning up,” he felt her forehead, “thankfully you didn’t get too sick in the middle of a game. go sit beside kookie”

she sat on the table, head in her arms, while the others got food.

jungkook eventually returned not just with food, but also with a bottle of water and some medicine for yoonmi

taehyung was constantly feeding her or putting food on her plate

she was practically half asleep while eating, so she barely followed along with what was happening

“no,” seokjin laughed, “it’s a little funny because even hobi has more energy than yoonmi right now, and hobi just woke up”

she watched them do the bottle cap challenge with a tired smile

eventually taehyung pulled her over into a back hug and waddled them both towards the other chairs

then they were seated for the manito. she was between jimin and jungkook, arms tucked into the torso portion of her hoodie while jungkook tied her sleeves together

the pds asked her if she was okay “i drank my medicine! i’m okay!”

she saw yoongi’s gift and burst into a fit of giggles. when she saw seokjin’s gift, she just laughed. she burst into laughter when she saw taehyung’s gift and fell off her chair, so jimin had to help her up by untying her sleeves, but he fell, too which lead to more laughter

then namjoon started to approach taehyung with his gift

she jumped in surprise when he handed a small box to her

“oh, me? is this bts goods again?”

she opened the box and pulled out a leather bound notebook and a case of colorful pens. the leather notebook had “M.Y.” engraved in gold on the corner

“woah”

namjoon smiled when he sat back down “i know you’re looking into bullet journalling, so i thought maybe i could help you get started”

she smiled and skipped over to him before kissing his cheek “thank you oppa”

then it was her turn to give a gift. she twirled a little before gently attacking yoongi in a hug and placing a small paper bag in his arms. yoongi let her sit on his lap while he opened it

“woah, princess, and this fit in the price range?” “yupp!”

inside was a necklace with a shield shaped charm that had a heart shaped hole in it. she helped yoongi put it on then pulled her own necklace from under her hoodie and connected them

“yours is the shield because you always protect me and the oppas. you can even hang it on your bed or clip it to your bags, i don’t mind”

the other members were cooing at her while yoongi patted her cheek and pressed a kiss to the top of her head

“wait,” seokjin began, “so three of us got bangtan goods while yoonmi and yoongi don’t? wahhh”

this made everyone laugh

yoonmi went back to her seat and excitedly opened the notebook namjoon gave her, pleased to see the pages were dotted

they all finished giving each other presents, and she was just smiling despite how tired and lightheaded she felt

“it’s actually pretty nice we got to get each other presents” “you got journalling stuff, mimi. i got v fans” “that’s taetae oppa watching over you and keeping you cool!”

she leaned against yoongi for their ending shot. after calling out the slogan and the camera panning away, you can hear her voice

“i’m gonna start on my bullet journal as soon as i’m better and i’ve printed my pictures and stickers!”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

selfie | jjk | 2

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Is this a rom-com, slice-of-life drama with unsolicited social commentary about gender stereotypes, idol music, and the meaningless meaning of the word, “adult”? Yes. But also, Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be in love with his hyung’s little sister and he is. Shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of depression, anxiety, loneliness; fluff, but also frustrating because flirt already, sheesh; loons-to-lovers; non-idol!AU - oppa’s bestfriend!Jungkook x SHINee fangirl!reader

happy lunar new year!! year of the ox - jk’s lucky year <3

–

previous episode.

2. in which the two loons getting somewhere, only for more misunderstandings to happen.

Is this too much?

You stared at the picture and the message. Jeon Jungkook once again. Sending a picture of himself at the gym. It was a while since the last one, so his hair was slightly longer now. Was he growing it out? Oh well, none of your business. You sent your usual reply.

?

You sighed and went back to your journal, only to have your phone aggressively sing ‘3 PM’ from the Animal Crossing New Leaf OST. Directly asking for a video call this time. You thinned your mouth into a line and closed your journal, sliding it out of frame before accepting the call.

Jungkook’s big brown eye filled up the screen, directly on the camera.

“Why don’t you respond like a normal person?”

“Why don’t you start conversations off like a normal person?” you shot back, placing a hand on your cheek and leaning against it. There was stationery scattered all around you, but your journal was behind the charging stand.

Jungkook withdrew his eyeball, frowning. You could see his entire face now, his long black hair tied up into a silly sprout on top of his head. He was still wearing the dark gray sweatshirt from the photo, but he seemed to be in his apartment. All you could see was the wall.

“What about the pic though? Is it too much?”

“Too much what?” you responded irritably.

He waved his hand, shaking the phone with his movement. “You know… Too, ‘Hey I work out and am attractive, pay attention to me’ much?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even looking at the camera. Or wearing a sleeveless shirt.”

He blinked at you. “Should I?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, those are things not to do. Picture is fine,” you added, shifting some pens away so you could rest your head on your forearms.

“Oh.”

He looked uneasy for a second before the camera jostled around as he scurried to a different part of the room. You puffed your cheeks and closed your eyes, not wanting to get motion sick.

“I’ve been playing Persona 5!” Jungkook said cheerfully, making you open your eyes to see him directing the camera at his television where the Persona music was merrily playing. “Just finished Sakura Futaba’s Palace.” He switched the camera back as you smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Nice.”

Jungkook seemed to spy your deflated form on your desk.

“What’s wrong?”

You breathed out. “Nothing.”

He frowned. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

You shrugged. “Just thinking.” Your eyes flickered to him, smirking a little. “You wouldn’t know about that, I suspect.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Other than that, he didn’t react to your remark.

“Thinking about what?” he asked, leaning back into his gray couch. His long hair flared out, sprout blooming against the cushions.

Your eyes shifted to the pens all over your desk. To your tablet, where you had been practicing digital drawing for a little while now. Just little drawings of cute animals, no people yet. To your journal, where you had been writing your diary entry.

“Lonely.”

You said the word without thinking. It was the title of your diary entry. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it was the only thing on your mind right now. Your eyes flickered back to Jungkook, who was watching you carefully. You sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“All my friends are busy with school and their jobs. Oppa is always at work or with his girlfriend. Parents are always working.”

You could feel the distance between you and your high school friends. They were chasing your dreams and you were chasing nothing at all. You weren’t distant from your brother, but you were respectful of how much time he wanted to spend with his girlfriend. She might become his future wife someday, after all. Would you have a future husband one day? You wondered what he would be like.

You shook your head and shrugged. “But I did it to myself by taking a gap year, so it can’t be helped.”

“It’s okay to feel lonely.”

Slowly, your gaze shifted back to Jungkook. He was getting up from the couch, holding the phone up as he walked to what looked like the kitchen.

“I mean, you can’t help what you feel, right?” he said as he set the phone in a cupboard and went to the fridge. “Feeling lonely isn’t some kind of crime, so you don’t need to lock it away or anything.”

Jungkook picked up a take-out container and opened it, stiffing the contents. He seemed to be debating if it was edible or not. How long had that been there? You wanted to ask but then again, you didn’t want to know. Jungkook shrugged and dumped the mysterious contents into a bowl.

“I’ll talk to you whenever you want.”

You scoffed. “Why would you do that?”

Jungkook placed the bowl in the microwave and set the timer. The machine hummed as he turned around.

“To prevent you from feeling lonely.”

A butterfly danced in your chest.

You chuckled. “Why would I want to feel annoyed instead of lonely?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking out some chopsticks. “At least you have someone to be annoyed at instead of being alone?”

Two butterflies danced in your chest.

You huffed and rested your cheek on your forearms.

“Have you been talking to your Confidants?”

“What?”

“In Persona 5.”

“Who?”

You slapped your forehead. “Listen up, you monkey…”

“I’m an ox in the zodiac.”

“I mean your monkey gameplay…”

You began to explain the importance of Confidants in Persona to Jungkook.

-

That’s how you ended up in video calls with Jeon Jungkook several times a week.

He would usually start the call by sending a selfie, to which you would respond with your usual question mark. He was going to university for graphic design and worked at an electronics store part time. You, on the hand, were doing nothing. Well, not nothing, because you were clumsily learning digital art, but unless you were showering, you were always by your phone. Checking idol social media, especially SHINee. Sometimes your brother and his girlfriend asked you to accompany them to dinner, but you always declined, because being the third wheel was weird.

Also, watching your brother in love was weird.

Bleh.

“They always make out in front of me,” you were telling Jungkook as he asked why you weren’t at dinner earlier with your brother and his friends. Your brother had taken his girlfriend, of course. “It’s weird.”

Jungkook winced. “Yeah, I get what you mean. But I was there.”

“So what?”

Jungkook raised his hands. He was in his bed, rolling around in gray sheets. “Maybe you care?”

“I’d like to be spared watching oppa’s PDA, thanks.”

As usual, you were at your desk. This time your tablet was in front of you. You pushed the pen around, indecisively drawing lines and undoing your last action, twisting your mouth to one side, not really looking at Jungkook. He wasn’t doing anything of note, anyway.

“You don’t like PDA?”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever. I don’t really care.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing good,” you sighed, putting down the tablet pen. The little cat character looked back at you, its expression the same bored and dispassionate face you usually had. You hadn’t really decided on a color for it yet. Maybe gray. That’s how you usually felt, anyway. You knew the collar color was going to be aqua though. A nod to your SHINee obsession.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

You looked up to Jungkook’s smile. There was a radiance about it. You felt the two butterflies dancing in your ribcage once again, fluttering, fluttering. His two front teeth where just ever so slightly too large for his mouth. It was endearing, like seeing a bunny. You looked back down at the little cat you created. Maybe you would make a bunny for Jungkook.

Pfft.

Why would you do that?

You laughed, confusing Jungkook as you placed your hand over your mouth, eyes squinting as you chortled to yourself, trying to imagine Jungkook as a silly little bunny. Probably one that worked out too much and drank banana milk every day. Probably loved to take selfies too. A cool bunny who wrote sunglasses sometimes and was probably altruistic and interesting.

Not like you.

Your laughter died down, eyes on the cat. You picked a cat to represent you because it was lazy and didn’t do much. Spent all day sleeping and staring outside, but never actually trying. Curious about things, but never committing.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, lifting the camera and holding it above him. You saw his long black hair flare out around his head. He was casually handsome, the kind of attractive that didn’t need much to be that way.

That’s weird. Why would you think something like that?

“Your face,” you replied, missing the usual bite you usually had behind your words. “You need a trim.”

He raised his eyebrow, pursing his lips. “You don’t like long hair?”

You pointed at the phone even though he probably couldn’t tell what you were pointing at. “The ends of your hair are splitting. It’s not going to grow well at this rate.”

“Are you a secret barber or something?”

“I’m a human being who cuts her own hair,” you replied impassively, sitting back in your chair.

Jungkook looked surprised. “Really? Since when?”

“Since the last time oppa attempted to cut my hair in high school.” You cringed at the memory.

Jungkook looked apologetic and ready to burst out laughing at the same time. “He tried his best.”

“He did not,” you retorted, remembering the botched bangs and blunt shoulder length cut. It was horrible. You went to the salon afterward and had it trimmed into a short pixie cut, because you would rather be bald than look like an overgrown coconut.

“The pixie cut was cool though.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “Too hard to cut it by myself. Need some length to hide my mistakes.”

“Your hair always looks nice though. A little messy.”

You touched the top of your head self-consciously. Maybe you should start brushing it before accepting his calls. You didn’t really brush it that often because, well, who was going to see you? You basically only brushed it when you noticed a tangle.

Jungkook was smiling at you. His dark brown eyes seemed sparkly because of the overhead lights in his bedroom. The butterflies in your ribcage circled each other, looping round and round. You made a disgruntled face, reaching up read the current time at the top of your phone.

“Don’t you have class early tomorrow? Go to sleep.”

And then you pressed the end call button.

For some reason, relief and disappointment washed over you. Relief because there was a palpitating anxiousness you felt when you looked too directly into Jungkook’s eyes. Disappointment because maybe you shouldn’t have hung up so abruptly. That was a little rude.

You noticed you had a text. From Jeon Jungkook.

Good night.

-

Jungkook placed his phone beside him after he sent the text. He thought about sending a selfie too, but maybe that was too much. She had just seen him seconds before, anyway.

Why had she hung up like that?

He smiled as he remembered her laugh. He liked her laugh a lot. She hid it behind her hands and her eyes always squinted when she did so, nearly making them disappear. It looked a little bit like a cat when it was purring in satisfaction. Jungkook wondered what made her laugh like that. It must have been a thought, because he could see her face changing as she observed him. When she stopped laughing, her face was different too, becoming introspective.

She looked pretty today too.

Her hair a little messy, combed through with her fingers. That’s how it looked best, he thought. She had a natural prettiness, the kind that needed no help to be that way. Every action she did seemed cute, from the way she held her pen, to the way she twisted her mouth to one side when she was working on something, to the way she touched the top of her head, lips parting in thought.

If she wanted to be a model, she probably could.

At least, Jungkook wanted to take her picture.

He frowned a little. He’d been consistently sending her selfies before calling her and she always responded with a question mark. Maybe she wasn’t used to taking selfies? Or maybe, and what was more likely, she probably didn’t even care about them.

Jungkook exhaled, flopping to his side. Should he give up? But then he remembered her face right before she looked at the time. It was like she was staring at the screen, at his face. And for a split second, he swore he saw her upper lip upturn a bit, shyness in her gaze, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. Was it just the lightning or something? His mind playing tricks on him?

“Bleh.”

Jungkook made a weird noise and plopped his face into his pillow.

-

Jungkook stopped calling you.

You wondered why. You had been kind of rude to him last time. Maybe he was mad at you? Maybe he wanted an apology? But you weren’t really sure what to apologize for. And it was weird to call without a purpose, right? And besides.

You didn’t really need to apologize to Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t even really your friend. He was your older brother’s friend.

You chewed on your lip, staring at the last picture he sent you. He wasn’t your friend. He was… well, what was he trying to do? Why was he talking to you? Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was nosy. You did say you followed his art Instagram, so maybe he was enthralled with the idea of knowing he had a fan or something?

But you weren’t a fan, per se.

Well, a little bit. He was really talented.

But not that much!

Because Jeon Jungkook was kind of annoying. He still hadn’t returned Persona 5 to your brother. Not that your older brother noticed, at all. He never finished Persona 5 and it was mostly your game now, with how many hours you had sunk into it. Jungkook hadn’t even known about Confidants until you told him. Hmph. Didn’t he look up game guides? Well, he should. Confidants were really important to the game. They helped you with useful abilities during boss fights by developing relationships with the other characters.

You stared at the last selfie Jungkook had sent you.

You kind of wished he was looking at the camera.

Maybe you needed a Confidant. You certainly didn’t really know how to develop relationships with anyone, except maybe your older brother. But that was because he was your brother and familial responsibility. Well. Not true. Your brother was really nice to you.

That’s why you folded his underwear for him, even to this day.

Sigh.

Jungkook did like SHINee though.

At least that was one thing in common, right?

-

next episode: 3. in which only a major event can bring these two loons back together – SHINee is back!

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