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stayxlix · 5 months

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off the deep end. (07)

~(part seven) the last nail in a shared coffin~

pairing: rebel!felix x reader (f)

genre: non-idol au, post-apocalypse/dystopian au. wc: 20.6k

series rating: 18+ **minors do not interact**

chapter warnings: violent mature themes, explicit sexual content (consensual, unprotected sex, oral sex), nightmares, mentions of murder/death, mentions of parent death, mentions of hunger, oppressive government, fighting, weaponry (knife use, gun use), panic, injury, blood, language, a whole lot lot of angst, please lmk if i missed any!!

a/n: thank you all so much for your patience and continued support, it really does mean the world to mee.<3 any feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are more appreciated than you know. im so excited to share the next part of this journey with you!! as always, i hope you enjoy.♡♡

series masterlist

"fear and love are like interwoven threads—immutable and bound together by celestial forces. the sun and moon navigate the intricate dance of light and darkness for eternity, echoing the delicate balance between the two emotions that every heart must learn."

Felix had always been able to divide fear into two distinct entities.

The first was immediate, tangible. The kind of fear he’d grown accustomed to like an old, unwelcome acquaintance. The kind that crept beneath his skin when he could no longer ignore hunger’s gnawing ache. When he observed the hollow eyes of his companions after scouring the barren landscape, only to return empty-handed. It was the frigid air that seeped into his bones during long winter nights, the kind that set his pulse racing when footsteps echoed too closely in the darkness.

The second was deeper, a phantom kind of fear that stained the recesses of his soul. It was a desperate gasp for air in the suffocating grip of hands that devoured the weak. The cool touch of a steel barrel against skin that bore the marks of a merciless world. It was fear in the phantom weight of invisible chains that had once coiled around his neck—chains wielded by demons from a past that clawed relentlessly at the barriers of his sanity.

It was the dread that he would wake up one morning to discover a void where seven—no, eight souls had once stood beside him. To find his humanity stripped away again, replaced by the savage instincts he had fought so hard to overcome.

The kind of fear that crept into his dreams belonged to the second category.

Nearly six hours had slipped away since the first glimmer of morning light, when you had woken Felix from the nightmare.

"Felix,” your voice—your real voice—not the distorted echo from his nightmare, had called out. Clear and reassuring, summoning him from the depths of his own subconscious.

“Felix, wake up. You’re dreaming.”

His eyelids shot open, pupils dilating wildly as they struggled to adjust. A sharp gasp pierced the stillness as his body surged forward. Disoriented, his hands instinctively sought you out as he struggled to untangle the threads of the nightmare from reality.

"It's okay,” you whispered, fingers gently gripping his shoulder, "you're safe."

You’re safe, you'd said. And those words, while meant to comfort him, had almost caused Felix to laugh, at the absurdity of the idea that he could ever be tormented by a nightmare involving his own harm.

His head lifted, glossy eyes still clouded with the remnants of fear. Yet, relief began to glimmer within their depths. Because your lips were not stained red, there was no blood-soaked knife clutched in his hand, no imaginary blade pierced through your chest.

Felix drew in a shuddering breath, reality slowly stitching itself back together. Piece by piece, thread by thread.

You watched him closely, concern dancing in your eyes as you tried to grasp the torment of whatever horrors he had witnessed in his sleep. And then you’d sighed, heavy with affection and a touch of sadness, before shifting closer.

Your arms enveloped his shoulders and, to his own surprise, Felix didn't resist your touch—though maybe he should have, given what his subconscious had just inflicted upon you. But he couldn’t find the strength to keep his arms from making their way around you in return.

His head dropped to your shoulder, the tension in his muscles easing. Warm touch met cold, trembling skin. The physical contact was grounding—you were grounding. A lifeline anchoring Felix to the reality he so desperately needed to return to.

He strained to listen until the steady rhythm of your heart found his ear. In the stillness, the sound grew and grew until it was the only thing he heard. Every beat was proof that you were real, breathing and alive. But as the moments stretched Felix began to fear that it might slow, that every beat might be the last before an eternity of silence, that he would look up to find a dagger buried in it once again and—

The air in his lungs became thin, his grip tightened, fingers digging into your back. “I couldn’t do anything," his voice rumbled low, muffled by the fabric of your shoulder. And he didn't even know what he was saying but the words had come out trembling. As if the nightmare had lodged itself in his throat, constricting his vocal cords.

“It’s okay,” you hushed, your lips grazing his ear in a soft caress. “It’s just a dream, it can't hurt you."

But it's not about me, he thought. It's not about me, it's never been about me. But it remained a silent confession. Because he could not bring himself to tell you the real reason the nightmare had left him so shaken. A quiet truth that hung heavily in the air, tethered to the gruesome image of you that still clung to his mind.

With a gentle tug, you encouraged him to join you in lying back down. Felix hesitated, his gaze falling toward the cave’s entrance—a reminder of the harsh reality waiting outside. But you cupped his cheek and, with a tender smile and the quiet utterance of his name, convinced him to stay.

Your bodies melded together against the uneven contours of the cave floor. Your fingers threaded through his disheveled hair, tracing the curve of his scalp with each gentle stroke. Another hour might have unfolded as you clung to each other in silence, but it never would have been enough. Time slipped away, ignoring Felix's silent plea for it to slow.

When the rest of the boys began to stir, you shared a hesitant glance. Despite his obvious reluctance for you to withdraw, slowly, gradually, you did. Your fingers left Felix’s hair and his hands slid away from your back. He let you go, eyes following your retreat, and the ache in his chest returned at full force.

As you reclaimed your original spot a few feet away, you stretched, covering a yawn. Your casual expression revealed nothing of the profound moment—the profound night—you had shared with Felix. A night of stolen intimacy, waiting to resurface again in the quiet moments when the world turned its back.

As he drove the motorcycle, squinting against the pale brightness, Felix used the sun’s position in the sky to track the passage of time.

Early afternoon, he figured. Maybe eight hours now since the group had abandoned the safety of the cave. And despite the solace he’d found in your touch that morning, a growing shadow of guilt threatened to consume his mind.

With every hour, the weight of the nightmare's horrors slowly eased, though they never fully vanished. Every time he dared to close his eyes, that agonizing image of you returned—a cruel reminder of the violence he had once been capable of.

The violence that he was still capable of.

Felix had always recognized his nightmares as a manifestation of his deepest guilt. They had always been sinister—disturbing, and yet, this particular nightmare was unlike any he had faced before. Because he wasn't afraid for himself, he'd never been. But he was terrified for you. Of what he might be capable of doing to you.

Even if Felix knew deep down that he could never intentionally hurt you, there was that persistent voice in his head reminding him of every mistake he'd made, every violent impulse he'd ever had.

His fingers flexed on the motorcycle, feeling as though the handlebars would slip through his grasp at any moment. He squeezed until his knuckled turned white, trying to hold on to some semblance of control. Because Felix was acutely aware of his capacity to lose control. Giving in to that dormant beast lingering just below the surface.

As the nightmare replayed in his mind, Felix couldn’t help but wonder if it had also been a consequence of what he’d said to you that night in the tavern—that you would already be dead if he'd had things his way. Such a careless thing to say considering that, even if he hadn’t known it then, his affection for you had existed in those early moments too.

With every jolt of the motorcycle, Felix fought the nausea that settled in his empty stomach. Caught somewhere between the past and the present, the sensation of your arms around his waist served as a physical reminder of how far he'd come since that conversation. How he'd transformed from someone potentially willing to end your life, to someone committed to protecting it at all costs.

Felix killed the engine and dismounted the bike, muscles rigid from hours of tension. Late afternoon now. Half a day had gone by when the group unanimously agreed that it was time for a break.

As he refueled the bike, its exhaust pipes still crackling with heat, he wondered how long he and Chan were going to ignore the diminishing weight of the fuel containers. But the thought was quickly drowned out by Minho and Changbin—bickering over the now unfolded map.

Felix tuned them out, making note of the way you lingered by his side. He sensed the silent inquiry in your eyes, seeking reassurance about his well-being after this morning’s ordeal. But now wasn’t the place or the time to talk about the nightmare. It was still too heavy, too raw, and to be honest Felix wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to find the words to articulate it all.

He didn’t even know where to start.

So, despite the solace he found in the quiet strength you exuded, Felix distanced himself from your side. He sought out a flat rock, its cool surface soothing against the back of his neck as he reclined. The setting sun caressed his face, and if he had summoned the courage to close his eyes completely, he thought he might have been able to envision himself back on the rooftop. To the moment Chan had first revealed the plan for the raid—a memory bathed in similar sunlight, when the breeze had carried the scent of a world that felt unrecognizable now.

Felix allowed himself to wonder, only briefly, if he should long for the simplicity of that memory. At a time when he hadn’t felt much of anything at all aside from his love for the seven boys around him. But even that, he had done his best to dull. The numbness had been a shield, but it was a defense he no longer seemed to possess. Because now, every gust of wind seemed to carry the whisper of your name. The moon, a constant observer of his fondest memories and reflections, couldn't even come close to the comfort he found in your embrace. Even the warmth of the sun on his skin could never compare to your touch. Feelings he couldn’t begin to comprehend had taken place of that numbness, battling the darkness that had lingered for far too long.

With a slight tilt of his head, Felix cast a subtle glance in your direction. He found you seated next to Seungmin a short distance away, and he wondered whether you were truly managing the way you’d claimed you were last night. Maybe it was the weariness displayed in the lines of your face, the slight downturn of your lips, the way your shoulders always seemed to carry an invisible weight—things that didn't escape his notice because he understood them all too well.

Because Felix was beginning to understand you too well, maybe.

After discovering your identity the night of the raid, Felix had done everything he could to convince himself that you were just the daughter of a monster—a pawn in a cruel game. But despite his best efforts, he could never bring himself to see you that way. He'd failed miserably at hating you, he couldn’t even dislike you, and what terrified him most was not just the acknowledgment of his potential to love you, but the possibility that maybe he always had. From the very beginning. From that fateful moment in the alley when your paths had crossed, and your lips had met, and you’d saved his life for the first time.

Of course, he hadn’t known who you were then, he’d had no clue what you might be running from, but he saw the desire to escape it in your eyes. Almost leading Felix to believe that if he'd extended his hand and whispered for you to come with him that night, you would have said yes.

Somewhere nearby, the argument between Minho and Changbin dissipated, fizzling out under the weight of exhaustion or hunger, or the recent encounter with your father's guards—undoubtedly still on everyone's minds.

Felix couldn't help the way his ears perked up when Seungmin filled the silence by engaging you in a conversation about archery, debating the finer points of how to hold a bow. Seungmin—who’d always had a very particular knack for reading the group's dynamics. Whose trust in you was something that hadn't gone unnoticed by Felix, either.

As he immersed himself in the melody of your voice and the subtle accent woven into your speech—how you pronounced words like Minho once had in those first few months after he'd joined the group—Felix allowed his heavy eyes to drift shut.

Even if he'd always been skeptical of it, Felix suddenly found himself clinging to the hope that Chan so fervently believed in—the fragile hope for a better world. And if it really did exist, then he would do anything in his power to make sure you would be there to see it.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had happened—maybe he would try to figure it out some day if he lived long enough—but all he knew for certain was that somewhere along the way, the mere thought of you experiencing harm had become more terrifying to Felix than any of the horrors that had marred his own existence.

And so, he resolved to protect you from the brutality of your world, from the looming threat of the war against your father, and, most importantly, from the darkness that still dwelled within himself.

With a grin, you held the bow aloft. “See? It's all about the grip. If you don't hold it just right, your aim will be completely off."

Seungmin—who you'd quickly come to realize was never one to back down from a challenge—shook his head, streaks of chestnut in his hair catching the sunlight. Rising to his feet, he extended an arm.

“I get that you’ve had official lessons, but you’re missing the point. It's all about intuition and feeling the shot,” he continued as you handed him the bow. “You can have the perfect hold on it any day but if you don't connect with it on a deeper level, you'll never hit the mark.” He mimicked drawing an invisible arrow from the string to emphasize his point.

Intrigued by your banter, Changbin strolled over with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I don't know, I think it’s more about the stance," with a nudge, he disrupted Seungmin's balance, causing him to stumble. Changbin reached for the bow, and a smile tugged at your lips as the two began to fight over it.

A gentle breeze swept over you, carrying with it the faintest hint of distant pine, and your attention was immediately drawn away.

A few strides to your left, Felix lay reclined with his hands resting comfortably behind his head. His eyes were closed, raven-dark locks absorbing the sunlight. To anyone who didn't know the circumstances, he would have appeared content. To anyone who didn’t know Felix, he might have appeared relaxed, even.

Yet, you wondered what might be taking place beneath that calm exterior.

Felix had felt unusually distant since that morning. His glazed-over eyes seemed to wander endlessly, in every direction but to you. Something had claimed his thoughts, and you could only hope that whatever it was had nothing to do with the torture that had unfolded in his past.

You watched as he ran a hand through his hair—a habitual gesture for the boy with the freckles and the stars in his eyes. The boy with a narrative of scars on his back and a tapestry of secrets in his soul. Secrets you feared you wouldn't have enough time with him to uncover.

The muscles in his forearms flexed as he sat up, fingertips trailing across the stone beneath them. The memory of those fingers on your skin from the night before sent a tingle down your spine, igniting that familiar heat between your legs..

A small pebble came tumbling down the hillside behind you, landing gently on your outstretched hand. Startled, you glanced over your shoulder to find Minho and Jisung making their way back down the rocky incline. "Nothing as far as we can see," Minho reported.

The absence of your father's guards on the other side offered a momentary respite, but it was a fleeting moment of safety that you were well aware wouldn't last forever.

“Nothing for now," Jisung added, meeting your eyes as if he had tuned into your thoughts.

"We should keep moving," Chan appeared at your side, taking in the surroundings. "The longer we stay in one place, the more vulnerable we become."

Sure..unless the path ahead leads to an even greater danger.

Unless your father was paranoid enough to figure out where you were headed.

If he'd sent guards after you on a more direct route, you wondered if they might make it to Miroh before you. The thought of them lying in wait in anticipation of your arrival stirred up a new, particularly unsettling, concern. But when Chan turned his focus to you, you responded with a firm nod, tucking away your fears to discuss with him later.

The days were waning, leaving you to realize that summer had quietly begun to slip away. It didn’t take long for the sun to complete its descent below the jagged horizon, plunging the world into shadows once more.

The scattered rock formations took on menacing shapes—their outlines frequently obscured by passing clouds above. Under the veil of darkness, each turn of the wheels became a gamble, increasing the chances of veering off course or stumbling upon unforeseen obstacles.

Amidst the growing danger, Chan's voice cut through the rhythmic hum of the motorcycle as he called for Felix to slow down.

Felix, however, seemed determined to press forward. His muscles tensed, ignoring Chan's plea as the engine roared defiantly. And you had a feeling it wasn't just the desire to reach your destination that drove him, but a reluctance to stop and rest.

To sleep, perhaps.

"Felix,” you urged, leaning in, "it isn’t safe.”

A sudden acceleration of the bike was his only response. It surged forward as if he were trying to outpace not just your words, but the night itself.

You squeezed his waist, a silent plea for him to listen. "Lix—"

In a single, decisive motion, Felix abruptly yanked the motorcycle to the side of the rugged path. With wide eyes, you watched as he stepped down, his movements reflecting restless energy. As the dust settled, he deliberately avoided meeting your eyes, turning his focus to the rover as it pulled up beside you.

"I'll take first watch," he declared, boots crunching on loose rocks as he left your side.

You’d intended to follow him but Hyunjin was quicker. He leaped down from the rover before it’d even slowed to a stop, darting ahead to catch up with Felix.

You watched as they approached the edge of a cliff that lie straight ahead from where you stood. A frown tugged at your lips as your mind went to the twin rings they wore.

I've known Felix a lot longer than you.

As you considered the unspoken dynamic between them, whatever the hell it might be, a shadow fell over the periphery of your vision.

Jisung slipped beside you, his eyes flitting from you to the two figures now seated at the edge of the cliff.

"I spoke with him earlier," you said, eyes tethered to the outline of Hyunjin’s back. "It didn't exactly go well."

"Sometimes Felix gets like this—"

"Not Felix."

"Oh.." Jisung sighed with understanding, following your gaze to Hyunjin. "Hyunjin is protective, especially when it comes to Felix. It's been a long time since someone new joined our group, and considering your.."

"My background.."

"Yeah..that," Jisung mumbled, raking a hand through his hair. “There's history between those two, but it's mostly things that happened before I found my place in the group."

"When did you join the group, Ji?" you turned to face him, dragging your eyes away from whatever was unfolding at the cliff.

Jisung shrugged. "That is a story for another time," he said, flashing his signature grin. "Promise."

You surveyed him for a moment, sensing layers and layers of depth behind his carefree demeanor. His eyes held a narrative waiting to be told, but it was a chapter he wasn't yet ready to reveal. "I'm holding you to it," you replied, and Jisung's smile grew a little wider.

Devoid of any trees or significant cover, the wind howled through the surrounding space, sweeping up from below the cliff where Hyunjin and Felix remained. An exposed campsite meant that, to avoid the risk of drawing unwanted attention, there would be no warmth from a fire tonight. And so, the blankets were spread in a circle on the cold, uneven ground. Pulled close together for warmth.

You settled in, rummaging through your nearly empty backpack, picking at your nails, brushing the dust from your pants over and over again—anything you could to keep your eyes from straying back to the cliff.

Chan claimed the space to your right, handing over a portion of stale bread that was noticeably smaller than usual—a clear indication of your dwindling supplies. But you accepted with a grateful smile nonetheless, pushing down another concern to discuss with him later.

Too much later though, and you may need to start a list.

Unlike the night before, when adrenaline after the chase from your father's guards had fueled the sharing of memories, tonight carried something different. Animated exchanges had been replaced by contemplative silence as the boys seemed lost in their own thoughts behind heavy-lidded eyes. The exhaustion that had been building throughout the day had finally caught up with them, it seemed. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel it too.

Your head lifted a bit too eagerly to be discreet when the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears. A spark of anticipation flickered within you, only to be extinguished as your eyes landed on Hyunjin.

Hyunjin settled down on Chan's other side, their words too hushed for you to catch the details. Slowly, their whispers melted away, a seamless transition from hushed dialogue to the ambiance of rustling blankets and the occasional creaking of the rover.

Your gaze wandered skyward where the stars blinked in and out of view. You watched them for a while, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to pick out constellations Jisoo had once taught you the names of. Names you had long forgotten, not that it mattered now. Tears pricked at your eyes at the thought of your former best friend, but you didn’t let them fall.

Shifting on your side, you cast a glance at the solitary figure that remained unmoving at the cliff's edge. Moonlight painted his frame in pale shades of silver as he overlooked the expanse below.

The rational part of your mind whispered that you should let him be.

Chan’s body heat would keep you comfortable enough to fall asleep, no doubt about that. And to your other side, Jisung's familiar presence offered an added measure of comfort.

But it was your name Felix had called in his sleep that morning.

And your heart that had a tendency to rebel against the logic in your mind.

You sat up, mindful not to disturb the sleeping figures around you. The water canteen felt light in your hand as you retrieved it from your bag, quietly making your way to where Felix sat. His head turned in acknowledgment as you approached, and although his expression remained guarded, he shifted to make room for you on the beside him on the rocky outcrop.

It gets easier with time.

If this was easier than you didn’t want to know what it had been like for him before.

“You should rest. We're safe tonight,” you said through chattering teeth as the frigid earth seeped through the fabric of your clothes.

Daring a cautious glance over the edge of the cliff, the world seemed to disappear. Swallowed by a pitch-black void, the perilous drop was only discernible thanks to scattered dots of flickering light below—tiny beacons of firelight.

Felix shifted, dangling his legs over the edge. “Any one of those fires down there could belong to them."

Them.

The mention of your father's guards stirred up that uneasy feeling in your stomach. Their pursuit would be relentless, safety tonight would never guarantee safety tomorrow. But as you looked to Felix, you knew there was more to it than that. Something had changed since that morning. The distance he'd kept, the guarded look in his eyes—it mirrored the same intensity that gripped him when he'd faced down the man from his past at Yellow Wood.

And it dawned on you that maybe he wasn't referring to your father's guards at all.

You extended a hand, offering him the canteen. "At least drink something if you're going to stay awake all night.”

Felix pressed the cool metal to his lips and took a long, necessary drink before handing it back. “Thanks,” he said, fingers brushing across your own.

As the minutes stretched, the cadence of his breathing created a soothing backdrop. The heat from his body called out to you, a magnetic pull that made sleep even more inviting.

And the next time you opened your eyes, the world had shifted. Your head had found a resting place on his shoulder, your eyes having closed long before the conscious decision to sleep was made.

"You don't have to stay," Felix murmured, a subtle indication that he'd sensed you stir from the drowsy embrace of sleep. His fingers tugged at your jacket, pulling it snug around your neck to fend off the biting cold. "I'm fine, princess,” he added, making your heart flutter at the nickname. “I just don't want to close my eyes right now."

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder.

"Not really. It was just a dream," he said. But his voice carried a defensive edge, leaving no doubt that it was in fact not just a dream.

“We don't have to..But I can tell its bothering you,” your brows raised in gentle invitation, urging him to share the burden.

Felix stilled before letting out a breath, a hint of frustration taking over the exhaustion in his eyes. "Why do you care?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question.

You thought of everything you'd been through—the stolen moments entangled within the danger and chaos, the intimacy you'd shared up to that point.

“I thought it was clear.." you replied, looking away. But as your words hung in the air, doubt crept in. Maybe it hadn't been clear to him that it wasn't only physical for you.

Had you even allowed yourself the chance to fully accept that?

"It's not that simple," he muttered, shifting his gaze back to the distant firelight below. He toyed with the rings adorning his hands, and you tried to ignore which one his fingers gravitated to first.

Vulnerability danced in his expression, and for a heartbeat, the desperate wish that life could indeed be that simple was palpable between you.

Felix reached up to claw through his hair, tugging at the strands. When his eyes finally returned to yours, you realized it wasn't frustration you had seen in them moments ago, but something akin to fear.

"Felix.."

And Felix winced—he winced at the sound of his name falling from your lips. A subtle movement that might have been imperceptible to most, but painfully evident to you.

“You should go get some sleep,” he stated, jaw tensing with the effort of holding back words begging to be said. The quiet command held a touch of finality, causing a knot to form in your chest.

You took a steadying breath, the crisp night air stinging your lungs.

And maybe you shouldn’t have, but you said, "I care because I see more than the darkness in you, Felix. Those moments from the past that you think define you, they don't. I know you don't see anything good in yourself, but I do."

You set the canteen down beside him with a resounding clang before rising to your feet. "I care because I see someone worth caring for," you sighed. And then, with a slow shake of your head, you cast a final glance over the vast expanse below before turning to walk away.

Had Felix not been broken a very long time ago, your words that night might have shattered him completely. He fought hard to keep his eyes open, determined to avoid the return of the nightmare, but he fought harder against the overwhelming urge to chase after you.

Too many silent hours stretched before him until the sun would rise. Too much time for Felix to wrestle with the echoes of your words—for him to question exactly when he had begun to fall in love with you, and if it really was going to get you killed some day. Leaving him restless and tormented, alone beneath the sprawling canvas of a starlit sky.

The morning unfolded in a haze, draping the landscape in layers of fog that hung low and thick. Changbin had the map spread out on the hood of the rover, tracing the faded lines that marked the outskirts of District 5. "According to this,” he said, “we should be nearing the border of District 4 soon.”

Beside you, Seungmin leaned forward to catch a glimpse for himself. "What do we know about District 4?" he asked.

Changbin disguised any tension in his shoulders with a casual shrug, and it struck you then that you might not be the only one unfamiliar with the outer districts.

Chan tossed an empty supply bag into the back of the rover. "As we go further, we don't stop unless absolutely necessary," he said. And maybe you would've asked him why, if your attention hadn't been drawn to Jeongin at his side. His slender fingers grasped at the frame of the vehicle, strained knuckles betraying his effort to conceal the pain as he noticeably favored his injured foot.

You walked around and dropped an armful of folded blankets into the vehicle, making a mental note to keep an eye on Jeongin.

While the group prepared to continue the journey, the silence between you and Felix pulled at your thoughts, too. You’d hesitated for a moment before climbing onto the motorcycle behind him. His stoic expression, like always, did an exceptional job at masking whatever he was feeling.

Summoning a deep breath, you nudged the thoughts surrounding him to the edges of your mind. The urgency of outrunning the guards, reaching Miroh, an inevitable confrontation with your father some day—there were far more pressing concerns that demanded your focus.

And so, when the motorcycle roared to life you shifted your arms around Felix, intentionally loosening your hold.

If the freckled boy sensed the subtle change, he didn't let it show.

The moisture in the air hinted at an impending change.

It wasn't long before thick raindrops began to break free from low-hanging clouds. The motorcycle's wheels fought for traction, skidding on the slick terrain. Puddles formed in the lowest areas as the rain intensified, visibility deteriorating rapidly.

Raindrops pelted Felix's leather jacket as he lifted an arm to shield his eyes from the downpour. Casting a fleeting glance behind, you struggled to discern the faint outline of the rover.

Your head snapped forward again as the bike slipped, threatening to lose balance. With one hand, Felix firmly corrected the course of the motorcycle. His free hand reached out unexpectedly, and you felt the warmth of his touch as he intertwined his fingers with yours. He pulled one of your hands further around his waist, ensuring with subtle pressure that your hold around him was secure.

When he lifted his hand, you maintained the grip, fingers securely entwined.

The rain poured and poured, drenching you both. Yet, steady progress was made. You entered a narrow mountain pass, the landscape unfolding in glimpses as you pressed forward.

Steady progress was made, until the ground beneath you gave way without warning—sending the motorcycle into a sudden descent.

Even with his seasoned reflexes, Felix barely had enough time to react as it plunged downward. The air was stripped from your lungs, a dizzying mix of exhilaration and fear coursing through your veins. Your eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of wind, and you didn't open them again until—with a jarring thud—the motorcycle reached the bottom of the incline.

The impact sent vibrations through your bones, mud spraying in a messy wave as Felix steadied the bike with a foot.

Rain-soaked strands of black hair clung to his forehead when he whipped around to face you, droplets streaming down his face. “Shit are you alright?!” his voice cut through the thunderous pounding of your heart in your ears.

But you hardly registered his words at all.

Your focus was entirely captivated by what lay over his shoulder.

A vast expanse of towering evergreen trees stretched before you. Tall and imposing, they stood like sentinels guarding whatever secrets lie inside from the rest of the world. The branches swayed as if the forest itself was alive, pulsing with energy that seemed to beckon you closer.

You were almost certain that nothing like this had been marked on the map. And it was massive. A beast all its own.

With a scowl, Felix dismounted the bike, boots sinking into the damp soil beneath. As he approached the forest, you turned to survey the steep incline behind you.

The landscape extended high and wide, like a colossal step down in the earth, stretching as far as you could discern through the curtain of rain. As you studied it, the rover appeared at the top. A sudden apparition against the stormy backdrop, the glimmer of its headlights and the silhouettes of the boys appeared as faint outlines.

Blinking against the rain, you took a few steps over to the foot of the incline. As you strained to comprehend Minho and Chan's growing shouts, Felix materialized at your side. His voice joined the chorus in an attempt to shout back however, like them, his words were swallowed by the storm.

Abandoning their efforts to communicate with you and Felix, the boys leaned together to discuss something amongst themselves.

“What are they doing?” you questioned as the rover began to make a cautious retreat from the edge above.

Felix craned his neck, squinting against the rain. "Probably going to find shelter to wait out the storm, I saw a cave entrance not too far back—"

A brilliant streak of lightning slashed across the sky, illuminating the entirety of your surroundings in a bluish-white glow. The accompanying crack of thunder tore through the air, the sheer force of the noise making your heart lurch in your chest.

Felix lowered his eyes, a softness creeping into his expression upon discovering your hand clasped tightly onto his sleeve. “If they’re going to wait it out, we'll do the same,” he said, taking your hand.

He led you across the tree line, to a colossal evergreen. Its base was substantial, the lowest branches forming a natural canopy like the skirt of a dress—large enough for both of you to slip underneath. His grip on your hand tightened briefly before pulling away. “I’ll be right back. I need to get the bike."

Reluctantly, you let go of his hand. "It’s just a little rain, princess,” he said softly before darting back out in the direction of the forest’s edge.

Beneath the the sheltering branches of the evergreen, you huddled closer to its trunk. Rough bark dug into your back as you pulled your knees up. Thunder rumbled overhead, shaking the earth beneath you.

You shut your eyes—counting the seconds, the breaths.

You thought of a refreshing cave spring echoing with deep laughter, a motorcycle ride underneath the stars. You pictured freckles like constellations, dark eyes reflecting the night sky.

Relief flooded your veins when you looked up to find Felix slipping back beneath the branches.

His shoulder brushed against yours as he sat down beside you with a tired sigh. Stretching his legs out, shadows played on his face as he gazed up through the lattice of pine needles above. “You really don't like storms, do you? You had the same look on your face that night in the tavern.”

“I’m fine,” you protested, the words coming out sharper than you'd intended.

“So fucking stubborn,” he grumbled under his breath before shrugging out of his jacket. Every flex of his muscles was accentuated by the wet fabric that clung to him.

Not that you'd been staring.

When he draped the jacket over your shoulders, the urge to protest simmered beneath your skin, a lingering effect of your earlier frustration with him. But it was warm, familiar, and for some reason, his scent was more comforting than you'd ever understand.

So, you said nothing.

Your bent knees found a resting place on his thigh. And beneath the heavy weight of his jacket, the thunder and lightning gradually began to lose their intimidating edge.

When you crossed your arms for added warmth, your fingers brushed against the handle of your mother’s knife. With a subtle flick, you pulled it out and tossed it into the ground. Your eyes traveled from the gleaming blade to the engravings on the hilt, the dried blood in the crevices. And as you watched the rain wash it away, you were reminded that your father's guards weren't the only thing Felix was running from.

There was a different kind of sinister out there—a malevolence engraved into the scars you'd felt along his back. You'd wielded the knife to free him from one of them, but you weren't naive enough to think that there weren't more out there.

The mere thought of how many might be hunting him at that very moment sent a spark of something searing up your spine.

Not fear, or sadness, but anger. A raw, primal hatred that surpassed even the disdain you felt for your own father.

“Keep clenching your jaw like that and your teeth are going to shatter,” his deep voice pulled you back from your thoughts. One of his hands found a resting place on your knee. “What’re you thinking about?” Another ominous rumble echoed from somewhere above, and he added, “Aside from the big scary thunder."

You rolled your eyes, sorting through the myriad of thoughts in your head.

Having to relive what you've been through in nightmares.

What I said to you last night.

What we did the night before.

You took a deliberate breath, the scent of rain and earth filling your lungs, and nudged his shoulder with yours. “You first.”

His head, still resting against the tree, tilted to the side. The way he met your eyes asked, do you really want to know?

When you refused to look away, he sighed. There was a flicker of hesitation in his expression, letting you know he was on the verge of revealing something deeply personal.

“Most of the time," he began, "my memories feel like someone else’s," his throat moved, swallowing down the weight of those memories.

"But there are moments where it all comes back."

Moments.

Moments, as in those nightmares.

Your next thought slipped past your lips, spurred by genuine concern. “Lix, are you okay? Not just after yesterday morning but..I know you've been through a lot, and..”

"I'm fine, princess," Felix managed a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "If you want to know the truth, in a strange way I’m thankful for the nightmares.”

Because I feel like I deserve them.

The unspoken words were written all over his face.

You noticed the subtle tremor in his fingers as they began to tap against your knee. You adjusted your position so that you could look. at him. Really look at him.

His dark eyes, pools of endless regret, met yours. And in them you found a well of profound sadness, a lingering ache from wounds that would probably never fully heal.

A delicate touch trailed from his thumb as he brought it up to caress your bottom lip, gently drawing it back. Your breath hitched in response to the intimate contact. A sigh escaped him as he contemplated..something. And then his thumb retreated, leaving behind a tingling trail of longing in its wake.

"You wouldn't look at me like that, if you knew everything.”

You frowned at his words, at the sudden shift in conversation and the evident self-loathing in his tone.

Before you could come up with a response, his head crashed back against the tree. “When I asked why you care last night, it's because you shouldn’t," he said.

"What do you mean?”

”I mean you shouldn't be worrying about me or my nightmares or any of the shit I carry with me," he answered immediately. "There is so much you don't know about the way I've lived, the things I've done..I am not who you think I am."

“Then help me understand,” you urged.

But there was a flicker of something in his expression that suggested he didn’t believe he was worth your understanding.

“You can’t,” Felix emphasized. A distant look clouded his eyes, a flash of whatever it was that had crossed his features after the nightmare seemed to resurface. “You grew up with servants to meet your needs while the rest of us bled for every scrap of food and warmth. You can’t understand, y/n. And even if you could, it won't change who I am or what I've done. The blood on my hands will never wash away.”

For a moment, the only sound was the relentless percussion of rain on the forest floor. Then, you felt something inside you snap. The princess role, the sheltered naivety that had plagued your entire existence—the pressure from pushing it all down was suddenly released under the weight of his words.

“Is that all you see when you look at me?" your voice was sharp, edged with years of pent-up frustration. "Just a sheltered princess? Do you think that was my choice? You think I’ve never felt pain, Felix? That I haven’t seen things that will haunt me for the rest of my life?”

You shifted, the jacket slipping from your shoulders and dropping to the mud. “And who are you to decide what I can or cannot understand? You of all people should know that there is more to someone than the history they carry.”

Ignoring the bewilderment in his expression, you stood and pushed through the dense branches, pine needles scratching across your face as you stepped into the open forest. Cool droplets splashed across your skin, mingling with the heat that had begun to fill your veins. Your vision blurred with rain and tears that threatened to spill over—the culmination of years spent hidden away, a lifetime of being taught not to care about anything finally starting to unravel.

Footsteps splashed behind you. “Wait—I’m sorry,” Felix pleaded, his hand finding your shoulder with firm, gentle strength. “I didn’t mean to belittle what you’ve been though," he said, stepping in front of you.

He blinked against the falling rain, freckles glistening. "Please, y/n. I see your strength and I see how much we—I need you. And that terrifies me more than anything because—”

He caught himself, choking on the words. The voice in his head told him to let you walk away, just like he had done last night. But Felix was so goddamn tired of acting indifferent to everything around him. Whether it was the lingering tension between him and Hyunjin, the fact that the nightmares had been devouring him for years, or the way he tried to ignore how losing you would obliterate whatever small part of himself he thought might actually be worth something.

He wasn't tired, he was fucking exhausted. And the fatigue of pretending that he wasn't human was killing him.

Maybe it had been for a very, very long time.

And maybe that is why Felix found himself unable to bear it any longer. The accumulation of secrets, and pretense, and hidden emotions, it pushed and it pressed against his chest until it hurt. And it made him want to live—to experience the complete depths of life that he had been depriving himself of for as long as he could remember.

“When I said you were my weakness, princess. I meant it," he confessed, taking a subtle step closer. "There are very bad people chasing me, and they always catch up. They will again, and I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you because of me. The things they will do to you if they find out what you mean to me," he took a steadying breath, "I'm only trying to protect you, because what I feel for you is..”

His throat bobbed, preparing to continue. But before he could, you lifted a finger and gently pressed it against his lips.

With a feather light touch, you traced a path from his lips to his cheek, to his temple and down his jawline. You stopped to caress the sensitive skin on his neck, as if trying to erase the memories burned there beneath your fingertips.

You felt his warmth, the rapid beat of his pulse.

And you weren’t entirely sure your own heart was beating when you leaned forward to connect your lips with his.

His breath caught, as if not quite expecting it. He kissed you back, applying a tender pressure against your lips before abruptly pulling away. “If you knew what I am capable of—"

“I don’t care what you have done, Felix,” you interrupted, "I. Don’t. Care," you drowned his protests in another kiss, and his lips tasted like rain and longing and everything you were afraid to lose. "I want you, I want every part of you. And if you choose to share your past with me, although I might not fully comprehend it, it won’t change that."

You pulled back and held his gaze. "I am not afraid of you. Pushing me away won't protect me, and I'm not asking you to change, Felix, but I need you to see me for who I am now. Not the person I was expected to be in that palace. I was so broken and alone, and I don't think I even realized it until I met you. And I don't know who I am yet, but I am figuring it out because of you—because of all of you. So don't take that away from me by telling me that I shouldn't care."

As your words settled in the space between you, you decided that Felix had never looked more human to you than he did in that moment.

A lone droplet slid down his cheek, and when you leaned in to kiss it away, the taste of salt lingered on your lips. Revealing something far more profound.

Before you could react, his hands slid to your waist, warm and possessive as his lips claimed yours. He guided you until your back collided with the bare trunk of a dying tree. "I'm sorry," he whispered, thick accent sending shivers down your spine. "I'm not good at things like this, but I care about you, too. Too much, sweetheart. More than I should." The sincerity in his voice resonated with you. He meant the words—truly meant them. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe. You know that, right?" he added, thumb brushing your cheek.

And you did. You'd felt it in his touch, when he kissed you, the way he looked at you. You nodded, tracing the contours of his face, "I’m yours, Lix."

The words came out quicker than you could register, but you didn't regret them.

Maybe it made you fucking selfish, to crave losing yourself in him when the entire world was perched upon your shoulders, but you didn't regret them.

"You were always mine," Felix breathed, "before we met, before all of this, you were never their princess," he leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead. "You were always mine.”

And then, Felix kissed you like he was making up for all of the wasted time before you’d met—for all of the time you would lose when fate inevitably ripped you apart. He kissed you like he had been chasing you through every life before this one, and would follow through every one after.

When he ground his hips against yours, the intensity of his desire was evident in the way he murmured your name. A low, rumbling growl escaped his throat, making you acutely aware of the silence around you. The rain had ceased, leaving only the sounds of your heavy breathing and the occasional rustle of branches above.

When you shifted to grant his wandering hands access to your backside, his boot slipped in the mud. Your lips curved into a smile against his as you realized the absurdity of the situation—how ridiculous you must look shivering and drenched in rainwater, wrapped up in each other like this.

"Smooth," you teased.

Felix responded with a subtle shake of his head, a shy smile playing on his lips. Closing his eyes, he groaned softly and pressed his forehead against yours. "I hate this," he said.

You pulled back, your puzzled expression prompting a low chuckle from him.

"I just wish there was somewhere we could go," he clarified, "somewhere warm and dry," he swiped the lingering raindrops from your cheeks.

"Somewhere we could be alone," you added, lifting your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. "Just us."

Felix hummed in agreement. The desire was reflected in his eyes, a shared longing that resonated between you. But the idea of a place where the two of you could exist peacefully, away from the unforgiving grasp of reality, felt like an elusive fantasy that might always be just out of reach.

Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, Felix's expression gave way to a surge of profound intensity.

"Some day," he dropped his voice, "When all of this is over, I'm going to carry you back into that palace." His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing a heated path down. "I'm going to take my time with you, princess," he nipped at the sensitive skin on your neck, causing your core to flutter with anticipation. "And then," he whispered, "I'm going to lay the world at your feet."

You held your breath as he brought one of your hands to his chest, spreading your fingers out over his beating heart. "Its yours," he said, "and I don't care what you do with it."

With your palm still pressed against his heart, a quiet realization rippled through your mind.

You might love him.

You might be a fool to think there was any part of you that didn't love Felix. And maybe you were a coward, too. Too hesitant to say the three little words hovering on your tongue, for fear that you might become addicted to how it would feel to hear them back.

Your eyes widened as another realization crossed your mind—the understanding that, in some way, loving Felix might always have been inevitable.

And you wondered if he had known it long before you.

Don't let me love you.

You hesitated, the weight of the promise casting a shadow.

But when Felix leaned in to capture your lips with his, the pull between you was too strong to resist. Something cosmic, two souls irresistibly entwined. And you only hoped he could decipher the silent declaration of your emotions lingering in the spaces between each breath.

The kiss deepened into something desperate. Heated and sensual as your tongues collided. A soft, needy sound escaped your throat when he slipped his hands underneath your shirt, cold rings making you shudder. Your arms tugged around his neck, urging him to press his body closer.

Curling your fingers in his hair, you pulled firmly, because you knew how much he liked it.

"Are you trying to get me to fuck you in the middle of this forest?" he said, stifling a groan when you repeated the action.

You laughed—a small, lighthearted chuckle against his lips. "A forest? Never. I prefer caves, actually."

He let out an amused scoff. "Is that so? I'd think someone of such high status like yourself would be into more sophisticated places..like closets."

Your mouth fell open in mock astonishment, a smile playing on your lips as you remembered that night at Clé. "What the hell were we thinking?"

"I know what I was thinking," he responded, leaning in to press his lips to your neck. "I was thinking that you're fucking irresistible," his breath against your ear made your entire body heat up. “That every time I look at you, I want you wrapped around my cock. That when we're with the guys and one of them looks at your ass," he moved his hands around to give a firm squeeze to your backside. “Or your tits," he brought his hands up to grope at your breasts, making you moan. “I want to fuck your pretty pussy in front of them until you're leaking with my cum."

A chill traveled throughout your entire body, covering your skin in goosebumps.

"Then why don't you?” you purred, “fill me up with your cum, I mean," you clarified. Although something about the idea of Felix taking you while the rest of the boy watched stirred up something in your core that you’d never felt before.

“You know why,” he groaned. His adam's apple bobbed as your hands traced along his belt, fingers grazing the skin just inside his waistband.

One of your hands slowly slid down, and you weren't surprised at all to find his already hardened cock pulsing through his pants. The hiss he let out turned to a weak groan when you tightened your grip. And god there was nothing you wouldn't have given to be alone with him and a fucking bed. You needed to taste him, to feel his heavy length on your tongue, stuffed inside your aching cunt.

He started rocking his hips into you slowly, pressing your back further into the tree. "Princess," he dragged out the word against your neck, sucking at the skin. You whimpered in response, head falling against the tree."Do something for me?" he asked.

"Anything," you managed to say.

"Jump."

And you did. Without hesitation you jumped into his arms, locking your ankles around his waist. Felix's eyes sparkled as he turned, surveying the distance between the two of you and the tree you'd taken shelter underneath earlier.

He began to step—but not toward the tree. No, toward the motorcycle beside it.

He lowered you down gently in front of the handlebars before putting his hands on them, closing you in. You recognized the glazed over look in his eyes, and you thought it might be your favorite look of his.

You knew what it meant, and you needed him too.

When your lips reconnected it was fervent. Wild, and raw, and vulnerable. His hand found its way to your neck, making your pussy throb when he lightly squeezed. And your moans mixed when his crotch rubbed against yours, pushing your ass against the front of the motorcycle.

Felix groaned deeply, trying to focus on you and not the growing throb in his dick when you grabbed his hand and shoved it to that needy spot between your legs.

"Felix," you whined, bucking your hips into his touch, "fuck me, please. I don't care where we are, just fuck me."

There was nothing Felix wouldn't have given for the chance to take his time with you. To have the luxury of time without interruption, where the whole entire world would simply fuck off for a few blissful hours. Days, maybe.

But time had never been very kind to Felix. So, without wasting any more of it, he helped you shove down your pants and underwear.

And then, his knees buckled.

He hit the ground and immediately began kissing your inner thighs, moving his face closer and closer to your cunt. And it was when he tilted his head to the side, stopping to look up at you, that you knew you were fucked. The pleasure was already building in your lower abdomen and he hadn't even put his mouth on your pussy yet.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a shaky breath when his tongue finally met your folds, licking a long stripe through them. Felix brought one of your hands to his hair, and you were instantly tangling your fingers in the damp locks. He swiped his tongue in a jagged pattern, brushing his nose against your clit because likes the way it makes you squirm.

He mumbled to himself, something about how good you tasted, before his puffy lips latched on to your clit. You were on the verge of tears, hips jerking when he started sucking on the bundle of nerves, flicking at it with his tongue.

You tightened your grip on his hair, shoving his face against your pussy as your other hand reached for the handlebars behind you, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.

He brought his fingers up and plunged them inside of you with ease, using them to scissor you open as he made out with your cunt.

“C-close,” you stuttered as his tongue dipped into your hole.

He looked up, and the sight of him on his knees with your arousal glistening on his face, was more than enough to send you over the edge.

Your thighs closed around his head, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure ripped through you. You moaned his name, pussy throbbing and clenching around his fingers as you came.

Felix smirked against your core, slowing his pace to help you work through the orgasm.

And then, before you'd even had the chance to open your eyes, you were being flipped around and bent over the handlebars. Felix pressed the palm of his hand on your lower back, forcing your body to lean over it further.

Your eyes widened, mouth watering when you heard the clink of his belt unbuckling.

"Gonna take you like this,” he growled, the words rumbling out from his chest. And you were suddenly very thankful for the bike, because it was the only thing keeping you upright.

Felix shoved his pants down, just enough to reach for his thick cock. "Feel what you do to me baby?" He tapped it against your ass a few times before using the tip to spread your folds, gathering your slick.

"Felix," you gasped, swallowing hard. "Don't be gentle."

"Desperate little slut," he cooed, aligning himself with your dripping entrance. "My desperate little slut. Always so good for me, so wet and ready to take my cock like you were made for it."

Without warning, he slammed into you. The full length of him, so heavy and solid and filling you up so well, had your eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

"Oh," you gasped when he landed a harsh smack to your ass.

"Feels good, huh?" Felix smirked, chuckling lowly when you began to vigorously nod your head in response.

"Move, Lix," you cried, "m-move, please move."

And although he'd like to make you beg just a little bit more, Felix physically couldn't hold back any longer. He grunted as he set a steady rhythm. "Pussy's so good, fucking sucking me in baby," he moaned, pushing you further over the handlebars. He picked up the pace when you told him to, burying his face into your neck and sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin.

You emitted a broken, strangled moan when he tugged your head back by the roots of your hair, brain growing foggy with every drag of his cock along your walls. He drilled into you until his thrusts turned sloppy and irregular. When you started fucking yourself back on his dick, his hips trembled, stuttering into yours.

"Princess," he panted, breath hot against your neck, slowing his pace to try and keep himself from spilling inside of you. And Felix thought it might just be the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, when you start to beg for his cum. Whimpering incoherently about how badly you needed him to fill you up with his seed.

"Felix," you cried, feeling your second orgasm building, "feels so fucking good, keep going, keep going, I'm g-gonna—" you whimpered, inhaling sharply as you cum again, tears pricking at your eyes as you cream on his cock.

Felix bit his lip as your walls fluttered around him. His deep moans turned into pretty high-pitched sounds. And he was cursing, words you’d never even heard before, when his hips suddenly stilled.

"Ah, fuck—" he shuddered when he started to spill inside of you. He hurriedly pulled out, wrapping his hand around his pulsating length as he finished in his palm.

When you were coherent and able to feel your limbs again, you turned to look at him.

Felix was panting, chest heaving, as he came down from his own high. His hand was covered in his own sticky release. And you weren't quite sure if it was leftover rain or beads of sweat rolling down his face, but he was beautiful. Lips parted, dark eyes blown wide with pleasure.

He looked up, meeting your gaze with a tired half smile, and it broke something within you.

In that split second, you recognized that you might love him even more than you'd thought. And it was a feeling tainted with a subtle undercurrent of fear—the metaphorical nail in a shared coffin.

Because you're pretty sure it is going to get both of you killed some day.

Imprinted on your skin, Felix's scent mixed seamlessly with the clean breeze that enveloped you upon stepping out from beneath the trees—his warmth a comforting presence at your back.

Something caught your eye, bringing your attention to the top of the incline where the rover had returned, its metallic exterior gleaming.

As you surveyed the narrow drop, a daunting realization began to take hold. The slope stretched on in either direction, leaving no choice but for the boys to make their own descent if you were to reunite.

While you contemplated whether or not the angle might be gradual enough to allow for a cautious descent, Chan's voice rang out from above. “Stay back! We'll come to you!"

Felix cast a worried glance up and down the slope. "It's too steep," his lips tightened into a thin line as the tires inched closer to the edge above.

Charged, electrifying silence filled the air, heightening every detail of your surroundings—the engine's low hum, the rhythmic drip drip drip of water from the branches at your back.

"Maybe they should.." you hesitated, searching for an alternative that didn't exist. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because your voice was drowned out by the screeching protests of metal against rock.

With a sudden lurch, the rover initiated its descent.

The first tentative movements sent a cascade of loose rocks tumbling down the slope. The vehicle jerked and swayed in tandem with Chan's adjustments to the wheel, suspension audibly groaning underneath the strain.

Just when it seemed it might conquer the descent unscathed, the air was shattered by a stark crunch as one of the headlights collided with a protruding rock.

The impact sent shockwaves throughout the vehicle, a collective gasp escaping the group as Chan lost control.

In a frantic sequence of events, Minho leaned over, grappling with the wheel to help Chan regain traction. Changbin shot an arm out to grip the open frame, and Jisung buried his head in his hands.

Felix took a shuffling step forward, propelled by instinct to help the boys. Your fingers wrapped around his arm, yanking him back as the rover slammed against solid ground at the bottom of the incline.

The collision resonated through the air, leaving each of you speechless.

Jisung's wide eyes met yours, peering up from beneath the curtain of hair that had fallen into his face at the impact. A disbelieving smile fell across his lips, as if the absurdity of the situation had struck him in that moment. And you couldn't help but return the smile, shaking your head in relief as you acknowledged the collective insanity that had become your reality.

Chan's shoulders slumped and he bowed his head, taking a moment to collect himself. A mere ten seconds passed before he straightened his posture. Stepping down from the vehicle, he crossed his arms over his chest, muttering a curse as his eyes narrowed to the broken headlight.

The rest of the boys disembarked following Chan. Changbin pulled the map from his jacket, taking note of its condition before handing it over to him, and the group gathered around their leader in anticipation.

Chan's brow furrowed in concentration. A moment of disbelief crossed his features before he began to shake his head. "This entire forest isn't even on the map," his eyes lifted to sweep across the endless expanse of trees.

An exchange of looks rippled through the group as you waited for his next words.

"We can waste fuel trying to get around it,” he finally offered, "Or..." his gaze returned to the map.

“Or,” Minho interjected, catching everyone's attention, "we go through it."

The simplicity of his statement held a sense of something bold—a willingness to face the unknown head-on.

The forest did represent the unknown..But it had to end eventually. The fuel was dwindling, every one of you knew it, and wasting it in an attempt to find a way around the forest could be just as dangerous as navigating straight into its heart.

A decision loomed, demanding a choice that balanced the unknown with the practical constraints you faced.

Chan looked to Felix, seeking guidance in the unspoken language they shared. Felix, in turn, redirected his gaze to Hyunjin. The exchange unfolded like a ritual, a pattern the three of them had followed countless times before.

Silent affirmation in the form of a single nod from Felix was all it took for Chan to make the decision. “We go through," he declared.

Jisung cleared his throat, placing a hand on the back of his neck. “It can’t be any worse than what we’ve been through so far, right?”

His attempt at optimism, although appreciated for its intent, was quickly overshadowed by the ominous presence of the trees that loomed behind you.

Changbin squared his shoulders, cocking the heavy weapon in his arms. "Too late to turn back now," he caught your eye, and you nodded in silent agreement along with the rest, his voice echoing endlessly in your mind.

Too late to turn back now.

The forest held an ancient energy, a guardian of untold history. The growl of the engines harmonized as they wove cautiously between trees with an undercurrent of something otherworldly, something wild.

The further the group pressed on, the more it triggered an unexpected wave of discomfort in Felix. His chest tightened as vast horizon was replaced by the suffocating confinement of dense foliage. It brought to light an aspect of himself that he hadn't consciously acknowledged before—how deeply he had come to rely on the open sky and the sense of freedom it provided.

As the familiar feeling of being hunted settled in his bones, his eyes darted anxiously back and forth, scanning for shadows that danced in patterns at the edges of his vision. The words he'd confessed to you about who was chasing him echoed in his thoughts, and he half-expected their figures to materialize from the shadows at any moment—

No.

They couldn't have followed the nine of you out here.

The journey, the logistical challenges it would've taken to track your path through the districts..Not to mention that your group would’ve been long gone by the time they'd realized the fate of the man they'd sent after him at Yellow Wood—the man you'd killed to protect him.

The man whose name was enough to elicit a visceral response from Felix, the scars on his back tingling with every syllable as it resonated through his mind.

"They couldn't have," he muttered under his breath. They couldn't have followed you. They couldn't have.

But what if—

"Felix!" your shout pierced his thoughts, snapping his focus back to the path in front of the motorcycle.

Shit.

The wheels jerked violently as he veered to avoid a large ditch filled with rainwater and mud. The bike danced on the edge of disaster, narrowly avoiding the hidden hazard.

Felix’s eyes widened in realization as he twisted around. “Chan, watch out!” his voice boomed, echoing through the trees, but the warning was futile.

The rover was following far too closely behind.

It's front end plunged first, followed by a moment of suspense before the back wheels followed suit—the mud greedily swallowing them whole.

Despite the churning tires, the vehicle was forced into an abrupt halt. A chorus of frustrated exclamations filled the air, Chan's curses cutting through the loudest as he slammed his hands on the steering wheel in defeat.

You and Felix quickly abandoned the motorcycle, hands pressing onto the muddied surface of the rover. The rest of the boys, excluding Chan and Jeongin, joined you in a synchronized effort to push it out.

Muscles strained, boots sank into the earth, the wheels budged slightly, but despite your collective strength..

Nothing.

Chan unleashed his building frustration by forcefully slamming his foot on the gas pedal once more. The engine responded with a thunderous roar—thick clumps of mud scattering in every direction from the tires, still locked in a futile struggle.

"Chan, stop!" Minho called out, covering his eyes as he stepped back.

Thick sludge splattered across your clothes, adhering to every fiber. You rubbed your eyes to wipe it from your face, and when your vision cleared you realized that the situation had transcended beyond mere inconvenience.

The fading daylight had begun to cast eerie shadows around you. The gravity of your predicament sank in—how utterly alone you were, and it was the first time you thought that might be a bad thing.

Jeongin, confined to the vehicle due to his injured foot, swiveled around to observe the group. He put a hand over his mouth to conceal the sound that escaped his lips. However, what began as a tentative giggle soon evolved, bubbling up from the depths of his chest into hearty laughter. "You guys look awful,” he mused, dimples on full display.

The group exchanged glances, surveying their disheveled appearances.

Hyunjin, in particular, appeared thoroughly offended by his ruined clothing. His disgusted expression only fueled the laughter that had begun to grow around you.

Seungmin protested as Changbin (forcefully) pulled him into a hug, smearing even more mud onto his clothes.

And beside you, Felix's perfect face was seemingly untouched by the mess that adorned the rest of him. It prompted you to swipe some of the mud from your cheek and transfer it to his. The act elicited a surprised, but amused reaction from the freckled boy as the corners of his mouth twitched, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of appreciation for the unexpected playfulness.

Even Chan couldn't stifle a small chuckle as he stole a glance at the group through the rearview mirror.

Surrounded by the laughter of those you had slowly come to trust, you were reminded of what had brought you there in the first place—why it was so important to dismantle your father's oppressive regime for good.

Despite the encroaching night, darkness had yet to fully envelop the surroundings. There was still daylight left. One more challenge was added to the list of those you faced, but there was something about the boys and their resilience that instilled a small sense of hope in you. Making you feel as if their collective strength might just see you through the uncertainties ahead.

And if not, well it was far too late to turn back now.

With the ground unsuitable for spreading blankets, the process of setting camp mainly involved finding patches of drier ground to rest.

You observed the deliberate effort each of the boys made to avoid peering at the rover, the eyesore that it was. Chan was the only one who hadn't left its side, his mind undoubtedly concocting some kind of plan to free it come morning. “Hopefully”, he said to no one in particular as he kicked one of the tires, “we’ll be able to get it out after the mud dries.”

Your fingers fiddled with the laces of your boots, tying them over and over again to divert them from scratching at the drying mud on your skin. With each of you reluctant to waste your precious water supply on a mere rinse, you held on to the possibility that tomorrow's journey might lead you to a stream.

A yearning for the refreshing waters of the cave spring developed within you, intensifying with each passing moment. But it wasn't just the longing for cleanliness that fueled your desire to be back there.

Your eyes darted to Felix, crouched down beside you. Absorbed in concentration, his tongue habitually poked out the side of his mouth as he worked alongside Changbin to start a fire. His dark hair was up, a few strands escaping the confines of the tie to delicately frame his face.

You shook your head, refocusing your on Jeongin seated against a log at the edge of the clearing.

Felix glanced up when you touched his arm gently. His eyes followed your movement as you stood, the soft crunch of leaves beneath your boots resonating in the quiet surroundings.

The mossy surface of the log pressed against your back as you lowered yourself down next to Jeongin. "How're you holding up?" you asked, eyes trailing back to Felix as he returned to work on the fire.

"Could be worse," Jeongin replied softly. You pursed your lips, a moment of silence passing between you before he spoke again. "Can I be honest?"

"Of course," you said, inviting him to share his thoughts.

His fists clenched, fingers digging into the soggy grass beneath.

"Please don't tell the others," he began, quieting his voice. "But if we can't get it out," he gestured toward the rover, "I'm worried about slowing everyone down. I just don't want to be a burden if we have to continue on foot, you know?"

"Jeongin you are not a burden," you were quick to reply, "and nobody is leaving you behind. Whatever happens, we'll find a way to get to Miroh. All of us."

When he failed to respond, you reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. You turned to meet his eyes, and your stomach dropped.

A film of sweat covered his forehead. His complexion had taken on an unsettling pallor, and you guessed that if you were to press your hand to his forehead, it would be burning hot despite the chill in the air.

You fought to maintain a reassuring smile as your gaze swept across the clearing, landing on Minho. He was engrossed in the meticulous task of inspecting and wiping down the remaining firearms with Jisung.

With silent intensity, you begged him to look up.

The air seemed to still as you waited, sounds of the forest fading. When Minho finally raised his eyes to meet your own, the unspoken plea in your expression was clear.

With quick, fluid movement, he excused himself and made his way over where to you and Jeongin sat.

Minho knelt down in front of Jeongin, breaking the tension with small talk as he carefully unlaced his boot. He gently pulled back the bandages to assess the strain on the wound, and despite the stitches holding together well, the surrounding skin displayed signs of inflammation.

Amidst your focus, a sudden grunt of frustration sliced through the air.

Your eyes followed the source of the disturbance to Changbin and Felix. The duo was still locked in a battle with the damp leaves and twigs that refused to ignite—each failed attempt only deepening their shared frustration as the daylight waned.

You stole one more quick glance at Jeongin’s food before rising to your feet. “We need to find dry wood,” you announced.

But you were immediately caught off guard when the deep, resonant timbre of Felix's voice intertwined with Minho's softer tone as they both volunteered to accompany you.

The unexpectedness of Minho's offer left even Hyunjin standing motionless with raised eyebrows across the clearing.

Felix cleared his throat, maintaining his crouched position next to Changbin. A hesitant glance unfolded between him and Minho before he muttered, “Yeah..you two go.”

Minho got to his feet, seemingly unbothered by the reaction he'd caused. Stepping up to your side, he gestured to the forest behind you. "We're losing daylight."

Obviously.

As he strode past you, heading for the trees, you briefly glanced back to the others.

Felix had already returned to the task of trying to coax a spark from the wet kindling. Chan had found his way around the back of the rover—now absorbed in taking inventory of your remaining supplies. Jisung gave you a meaningful look, motioning with his eyes for you to catch up to Minho..

And so, with a determined breath and nothing to lose, you followed the boy from District 9 into the encroaching twilight.

It was as if even the forest held its breath, as if it were sentient and fully aware of the undercurrents of tension between you and Minho.

Silence draped between you, thick and uncomfortable, as Minho guided the way. You glared at the back of his head, making note of the distinctive shade of his hair—gray or perhaps a faded light blue, with grown out roots revealing the natural color underneath.

In District 9, it wasn't uncommon for residents to dye their hair various shades—a symbol of status due to the expense of such indulgences. The gradient of Minho's hair made you wonder just how long he had been away from his home district.

Your home district.

As you considered the shared connection between the two of you, Minho broke the silence. “His foot, its..”

"I know," you replied.

"Infections can spread fast, especially out here.”

“I know.”

Minho sighed in annoyance, as if holding a conversation with you was some sort of burden. “I didn’t want to discuss it with the others,” he snapped.

And it dawned on you that it wasn't the burden of talking with you, but rather the responsibility of his concern for Jeongin that strained his expression. He didn’t want to discuss it with the others because he didn’t want to worry the others. Choosing to confide in you instead.

“What can we do?” you asked softly, although the answer was already clear.

“Not much,” Minho confirmed, “start a fire, boil water to sterilize it with, and..”

"Wait," you breathed, without missing the way he tensed at the word.

Cleaning Jeongin's wound would be a temporary measure. It wouldn't heal the infection, but it might prevent it from worsening too quickly. Which would give you the time you needed until you got to Miroh where there might be medical supplies. Antibiotics, if you were lucky.

And if not..

“Look," your eyes caught on a fallen tree with branches that appeared drier than the rest. Relief, albeit a small thread of it, weaved through your senses. You pointed to it and began to cross the distance, Minho falling into step beside you.

Together, you began to break off the dead branches. The brittle material snapped easily underneath your grip, the silence interrupted only by the sharp cracking of wood as you worked. But your fingers stilled when you caught sight of that thin bracelet adorning Minho’s wrist. The trinket glimmered softly in the fading light. Its delicate beauty contrasted sharply with your surroundings, reminding you you once again of the life you had left behind—the privileges and sorrows intertwined in your past.

You studied the intricate design and elegance of that gold piece..so out of place.

Why wear it out here, where its value could mean a death sentence?

Lost in the depths of your thoughts, you didn't notice the pause in Minho's own movement. His fingers wrapped around a branch while his gaze bore into you, even as yours remained fixed on the bracelet.

In that moment, a daring impulse seized you. Screw it, you thought. The seething hatred you held for District 9 and the memories it carried ran deep, yet a peculiar sense of comfort washed over you in the knowledge that Minho might understand in a way that the others couldn’t.

For the briefest instant, you allowed yourself to wonder if perhaps Minho shared the same longing for someone who understood.

Screw it.

“If I hadn’t already known you were from District 9,” you started, “that would confirm it.” You brought your eyes from the bracelet to meet his gaze as you resumed your work, snapping another branch.

Minho’s own eyes tinged with something darker than nostalgia as he let out a dry chuckle. “There's no sob story to it, if thats what you’re wondering. No lost loved one, no tragic incident. It's just a piece of metal.” His tone suggested a desire to seal off the conversation, end it there. But your intuition sensed the unspoken pain behind his words.

“If it doesn’t have any meaning,” you pressed, “then why wear it? Isn't it dangerous? Valuable things like that..I’m sure people would kill for them out here.”

Minho’s eyes flitted away, as if trying to decide whether or not to continue. “It did belong to my mother,” he admitted, “but I don’t wear it for her. She was a cruel women and she probably still is. I have no love for her memory."

His gaze returned to yours, firm and resolute. “I wear it because it reminds me of why I left.”

Minho’s sudden vulnerability left you wondering what had changed between you, brow furrowing. “Yes, my family is from District 9," he continued, “and they live comfortably while so many struggle to survive. This bracelet is a symbol of that privilege, of the divide."

“Sounds a lot like more than just a piece of metal to me,” you mumbled, eyeing him cautiously.

A brief pause suggested Minho had shared as much as he was willing. His gaze swept over you, scrutinizing the details of your disheveled appearance. He took in the worn edges of your clothing and the mud-streaked lines on your face, before his eyes landed at the spot on your neck where Felix's mark had once been.

You pulled your jacket up, raising your eyebrows at him.

What?

Minho let out a puff of air from his nose, a sort of half-laugh, half-scoff. The tension in his forehead slowly relaxed, the sharp angles of his expression softening. “I spent the majority of my life in District 9, closer to the palace than you might think," he revealed, "and I never once caught a glimpse of you. There were rumors of your existence, but nobody ever saw you."

A resigned sigh escaped his lips. “I hated every moment of my life there—the constant surveillance, the price paid by those who dared to step out of line. And I think I’m finally starting to understand how unbearable it must have been for you to be confined within those walls. Unseen, unheard, without any idea of what was out here," he gestured to the surrounding wilderness.

The stillness following his words was disrupted by the involuntary snap of a branch succumbing to the pressure of your grasp. Your mouth dropped and you attempted to conceal the subtle gasp that followed, praying Minho wouldn't be able to discern the astonishment you felt.

As your eyes lifted, preparing to articulate the thoughts still struggling for coherence in your mind, your attention was captured by movement just beyond his shoulder.

Amidst the foliage, a delicate tendril of smoke curled upward, spiraling into the sky. You followed the trail down to the source, where a barely visible chimney revealed itself through the trees—an apparent sign that you weren't as alone as you had once believed.

You returned to the campsite cradling a bundle of dry branches in your arms. Felix's face lit up at the sight, however his dark eyebrows raised in silent inquiry when he noticed the expression on your face. He accepted the branches as you handed them over, kneeling down beside him.

"Did something happen?" he asked, following the trajectory of your gaze to where Minho was approaching Chan across the clearing.

“We found a small cottage not too far away," you began, helping him arrange the branches. "We didn't get close enough to see if anyone was inside, but there was smoke coming from the chimney.”

A mixture of curiosity and apprehension took hold of his freckled features as you continued. “If someone lives there, there could be medical supplies or something useful for Jeongin's foot."

His eyes drifted toward Jeongin, now dozing off with his head on Seungmin's shoulder.

"He has a fever, Lix," you added with a note of urgency.

Felix swallowed, grappling with your words. "Let's say they do happen to have what we need," sparks flew from the friction of wood meeting wood beneath his hands. He maintained focus, coaxing the flames into existence. "You think they’ll just hand it over to a group of strangers?"

A brief pause followed before he asserted, "They won’t."

"Then we’ll take it,” you answered plainly. Felix’s eyes widened and you emphasized, “Without hurting them.”

His eyes sparkled as the first glimmer of flames emerged, heart-shaped lips curving into a smile. “Well would you look at that, princess," he mused, "you might just be one of us after all.”

The weathered stone cottage stood as an oddity against the wild, untamed forest.

The towering pines devoured the moonlight, plunging the surroundings in velvety darkness. Beside, you, Felix moved as if he were part of the shadows themselves—someone who had adapted to the darkness in ways you could only begin to imagine.

The two of you—along with Minho, Chan, and Hyunjin—had dispersed around the cottage to get a better idea of who might be inside.

Its circular windows were devoid of curtains or cover, as if whoever resided within had nothing to hide from prying eyes. Flickering light spilled out into the darkness as the scent of burning firewood filled the air—an indicator of the warmth within those walls.

Each step Felix took was guided by muscle memory—a hunter’s instinct, as he left no trail of his passage behind. Darkness seemed to seep from his eyes to combat the soft moonlight. The lethal gleam behind them whispered of his past deeds, reminding you that he was the survivor of a world in which he had been forced into the role of predator rather than prey.

Felix pivoted without a sound, hands delicately grasping your arms. His eyes softened upon meeting yours, acknowledging the fleeting startle he'd caused you. "Stay here," he whispered, a soft command. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he turned back toward the cottage.

You watched with bated breath as he approached one of the open windows. His eyes narrowed, catching on something inside, someone, perhaps—

“What the hell is he doing?!” a voice hissed from behind you.

You whirled around, instinctively reaching for your knife.

“Shit, Chan.“

“I said not to get too close,” Chan continued, disregarding the glare you shot him.

Before you could voice your irritation any further, Felix silently returned to your side. His hand made its way to your lower back, a feather-light touch to alert you of his presence. “There’s a man inside. Just one, from what I can tell.”

The sudden crack of a brittle branch underneath a heavy boot had all three of your heads snapping to the left. Minho and Hyunjin emerged from the shadows, their words echoing Felix's earlier revelation about a single man within the confines of the cottage.

"If he's the only one inside, we might be able to explain our situation and ask for help," Chan said.

Felix withdrew his hand from your back, deftly pulling down the bandana that matched each of your own. The fabric slid down the lower half of his face, unveiling tense features. "We don't know who this man is or what he's capable of.”

“What if he seems hostile or refuses to cooperate?” Hyunjin chimed in. As his slender fingers adjusted the strap across his chest, the metallic clink of the firearm secured to his back punctuated the air.

The tension thickened as Chan took a moment to contemplate the options. His hand fell to his own weapon, subtly tracing the familiar contours. "Maybe we should wait until morning,” he suggested. And the words, like always, came out laden with the weight of responsibility. “People can be unpredictable. If we wait until morning it gives us the advantage of daylight and more time to assess the situation.”

Impatience flickered across Minho's features, his eyebrows drawing together. "We can't afford to wait," he stressed, "Jeongin has a fever and it isn’t going to improve on its own. If we wait until morning, even a few hours, it worsens that much more. And it will just keep escalating until—"

"Alright," Chan conceded, features softening at the mention of the youngest. “If we're going to do this we need to be cautious. Charging in blindly could make things worse, not only for Jeongin but for all of us.” He swallowed hard, eyes traveling across each of your faces.

"So, what's our plan?" you spoke up, highlighting your commitment to whatever course of action they chose.

"What if we should just knock," Chan shrugged, "it's a simple gesture, non-threatening..”

Felix scoffed audibly from beside you, the sound startling a bird into flight from somewhere above. “Knock?" he lowered his voice to a whisper, "we might as well hand over our weapons while we’re at it."

"Paint targets on our foreheads too," Hyunjin muttered.

Chan shot each of them a disapproving glare. His hand instinctively rose, fingers tracing the scar along the bridge of his nose.

Although walking up and knocking on a stranger's door in the middle of the night did seem a bit absurd, you understood the rationale behind Chan's strategy—an attempt to approach the unknown with some semblance of diplomacy before considering more aggressive measures.

"I should do it," you offered, aiming to sound as indifferent as possible despite the quickening thud of your heart in your chest. "I might seem less threatening, and he might be more willing to talk if he sees me alone."

All eyes suddenly turned to you. Felix stiffened, but Minho intervened before he could protest.

"She has a point,” Minho looked to Chan, “given the circumstances, if he thinks she’s a woman alone in the middle of the night he might be more inclined to trust her and offer aide.”

Felix's expression twisted into a deep scowl, blatantly directed at Minho. "Or take advantage of her," his voice dropped to a near growl.

"That's why we'll be right here,” Chan offered.

Felix restrained himself from voicing any further objections, yet the discontent on his face remained visible. He was desperate to help Jeongin, too. He acknowledged the necessity of the plan, understood the logic, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Hyunjin shifted restlessly. "What if we wait until he goes to sleep?" he said, turning to you, “approaching his doorstep in the middle of the night might raise suspicions."

“So what, you want to break in instead?” you countered.

"It's not like we haven't done it before," Hyunjin snapped.

Your arms crossed as you locked eyes with him in a challenging stare. He gritted his teeth and ran a hand through his golden locks, a self-assured gesture that—as much as you would rather die than admit it—highlighted the way Hyunjin was objectively quite stunning.

As his gaze held yours, there was a slight falter in the sharpness of his stare. Almost hinting that that he had made the suggestion in a discreet attempt to protect you from approaching the man alone.

Almost.

Feeling the weight of the others' eyes shifting between you and Hyunjin, you drew in a breath. "I'll go," you said, addressing Chan. “There’s no way this ends well if we get caught breaking in. If I talk to him, I might at least be able to find out if he has what we need. And if he refuses to help us then we can do what needs to be done for Jeongin.”

Chan nodded. "Talk to him at the doorstep. If things seem off, call for us. We'll be right here, yeah?"

"Just be careful," Felix added quietly from beside you.

The corners of his eyes creased with worry, but there was trust within them. He reached over to tap on the hilt of your knife, a silent reminder of its presence, and you offered a faint smile in reply.

Aware of the collective gaze fixed on your back, you warily approached the cottage. The sight of Jeongin's fevered state replayed over and over in your mind, propelling every step as you inched closer to the plain, wooden door awaiting your touch.

Lifting a hand, you prepared to rap your knuckles against the weathered surface when an unexpected disruption seized your motion.

Before you could make contact with the door, it began to creak open. The hinges groaned, worn with age, as a sudden brightness flooded out into the night.

Squinting against the intrusion of light, your eyes instinctively dropped to a pair of worn-out leather shoes visible just across the threshold.

“I've been wondering when you lot were finally going to gather the courage to come and talk."

Your head shot up to meet the source of the voice, eyes widening as they settled on the man standing before you. His features were a testament to years spent at the edge of the wilderness. Dark hair, unkempt and graying at the temples, framed a face adorned with a rugged beard. The beard, though not long, carried a battered look, much like the rest of his appearance.

Despite the late hour, there was something peculiar about the way his eyes gleamed, a gaze perpetually attuned to his surroundings. A faint smile played on his lips as he studied your reaction, regarding you with calm curiosity.

Then, in one swift motion, he moved to close the distance between you. You stumbled back, heart drumming a rapid beat in your chest.

“Come on out!” his voice shattered the night, startling you into a breathless pause. He raised an arm and made a sweeping gesture directed at where the boys were hidden, as if he were inviting them over.

Your mouth fell, the astonishment in your own features reflected by each of the boys as they cautiously emerged from the brush.

The man turned, leaving the door open as he retreated back into the dimly lit interior. "You're lucky you found this place when you did," he said, addressing you over his shoulder.

Hesitant to follow, you lingered in the doorway, absorbing the details of the interior.

Stone walls enclosed the space in a large room, a single hallway extending out of view at the other end. The thatched roof was woven meticulously from bundles of dried straw, forming a gentle slope overhead. A narrow opening ushered smoke from the fireplace into the night sky, and an armchair sat facing the flames, a stack of freshly chopped wood at its feet.

Dry wood.

To your left, a small kitchen area was tucked against the wall. The air inside the cottage was rich with the enticing aroma of something savory bubbling above the rustic stove. It was a scent so captivating that it coaxed you to take a step over the threshold.

As the boys cautiously filtered in behind you, the man settled down at a small table adorned with scattered parchment. His relaxed demeanor made it seem as though he were accustomed to welcoming unexpected, armed guests into his home.

Felix took a deliberate step forward to position himself between the man and the rest of you. His eyes drilled into the stranger, scouring for any sign of ill intent. Despite the absence of a weapon, the way Felix stood made it clear that he didn't need one.

Chan hurriedly moved to join him. His hand found its way to Felix's shoulder, settling on the area where the branded mark lay concealed beneath his clothing—a warning touch. A silent caution to tread carefully.

As Chan visibly grappled with the situation, his mouth opened and closed in a struggle to find the words to start some sort of conversation.

The man chuckled, "You're wondering why I've welcomed you into my home."

The boys stood their ground, but not one of them spoke. They just stared, making you wonder if this was the first time they'd been willingly invited into a stranger's home.

The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You’ve been circling my home for the better part of the night. I figure if you'd wanted to kill me you would have gotten to it by now," he said, eyes flicking to the imposing firearm strapped to Hyunjin's back. "But something tells me you didn't come all this way just for a friendly chat, did you?"

“Actually...Uh, sir,” Chan managed to find his voice, but you cringed a bit at the awkwardness it carried. "What we're looking for are medical supplies."

Minho stepped up. "Something to combat infection or fever," he clarified.

The man leaned back in contemplation. He surveyed each of you individually, eyes alight with amusement as if he found the whole situation mildly entertaining.

When his gaze fell upon you, Felix executed a deliberate shift in position. He planted himself directly in front of you, an unmistakable signal that he was fiercely protective of your well-being.

The man's faint smile morphed into a wry, knowing smirk as he looked Felix up and down. "Medical supplies, huh? You all look fine to me," he remarked.

"It's not for any of us," Chan's voice carried a hint of desperation. He paused to gauge the man's reaction before adding, "It’s for our youngest," likely hoping to evoke some sympathy.

The man arched an eyebrow. “There are more of you?"

Minho nodded, "We are a small group, just trying to survive."

"Survival," the man drew out the word, tasting it. “This is not the first time survival has brought strangers to my home in search of help."

"We don't have much to offer in return, but we are willing to trade," Chan offered.

The man's eyes narrowed, probing for sincerity behind his words. "Your friend must be very important to you," he stated, "but trading is not something I require. As you can see, I have everything I need within these walls.”

His fingers began to tap rhythmically against the arm of his chair, an unsettling sound that filled the air as he weighed the value of whatever he was considering.

"Despite that, I will provide you with what you need," he settled on.

A subtle release of tension spread through the room. Minho's stoic facade betrayed a flicker of relief. Chan allowed his posture to ease ever so slightly, Hyunjin withdrew his hand from the weapon strap across his chest.

Yet, amidst the delicate shift in energy, Felix remained an exception. Unmoved by the apparent relief settling in around him, his taut stance, though not overtly aggressive, showed no signs of relenting.

"Go collect your friend," the man waved a hand at the door, "I will shelter you for the night. You're young, exhausted, and it looks like you've been through quite a lot."

Alarm bells should have been ringing in your head.

The whole situation should have been unnerving. And in several ways, it was. But there was an inexplicable aura surrounding the man. Beneath the sly arrogance that colored his expressions, an undercurrent of compassion emerged. As he spoke, you couldn't help but notice the sadness that flitted across his eyes when he took in your group. There was a depth of profound humanity within those eyes—the kind of empathy you had never witnessed in your father—and it resonated with you.

As Chan started to voice his reservations, the man halted him with a raised hand. “I understand the reluctance to trust a stranger. You're cautious, and rightfully so. I see the weapons you carry, I know that you had the means to storm in here and take what you need, perhaps at my expense. Yet, you opted to knock on my door,” he chuckled lightly, shaking his head, "and that tells me something about each of you. Kindness begets kindness. Your group has demonstrated a courage that not many possess. And for that, I offer my aid.”

A stunned silence enveloped the room.

"Thank you," Chan expressed softly, each syllable carrying the weight of collective relief.

While the boys prepared to leave, your focus lingered on the man. A slight limp accompanied his movement as he stood—the permanent mark of an old injury to his left leg.

Felix glided across your path with a gentle brush to your arm, a silent signal to get the hell out of there. He took the lead, aiming to be the first one outside to ensure that there weren't any potential traps or threats awaiting you beyond the door.

Just as you were about to cross the threshold, something prickled at the edges of your senses. A barely perceptible exhale, too close for comfort, brushed against your ear.

The man's raspy voice came as a hushed whisper, intended for your ears alone. “A loyal guard dog you've got there,” he murmured, jerking his chin toward Felix.

You froze.

The blood in your veins threatened to boil at the comparison of Felix to a dog. But there was no malice in his tone, only a recognition of the connection. Almost as if he were measuring your reaction, trying to elicit a response from you.

And so, you willed that surge of heat to simmer.

Suppressing whatever fiery response had been brewing inside of you, you picked up your pace and stepped out into the night.

The decision to regroup and head back to the cottage had been met with skepticism. But, nine against one felt like decent odds, and the weapons your group possessed seemed to tip the scales in favor of the majority.

Upon re-entering the stone walls, you found the atmosphere had shifted. The man—still a mysterious figure with an unnamed identity—was in the midst of preparing something new over the stove.

Shallow breaths escaped Jeongin's lips as he settled into the armchair. The firelight played upon his features, highlighting the film of glistening sweat on his skin.

"I'm making a remedy from the herbs I've gathered,” the man announced from the kitchen. “This will help reduce his fever and fight the infection. Nature provides us with everything we need, if we know how to use it."

He went on to explain the properties of each ingredient he'd carefully measured and crushed. His words suggested a deep connection to the land and its resources. Everything felt genuine enough, and still, your intuition screamed at you to be cautious. A scowl crept across your face as he periodically glanced to you, his earlier comment about Felix ringing in your mind.

The collective watchfulness of the group intensified as the room filled with the soothing aroma of a fragrant tea. "This will help him," the man stated calmly as he poured a cup.

As he approached Jeongin with the steaming amber liquid, Felix's hands clenched into tight fists. The freckled boy focused intently on Chan, as if he were waiting for some kind of signal to release the restrained energy inside of him. The darkness swirling in his eyes hinted that, at the slightest cue from Chan, he would spring into action without a moment's hesitation.

You swallowed. Hard. When the man extended the cup toward Jeongin's lips, a sudden surge of panic gripped you. "Wait—"

Felix flinched sharply beside you, a ripple of tension coursing through his frame. Hyunjin, startled by your interruption, reached for the firearm still strapped to his back. Changbin took an instinctive step forward, ready to shield if need be.

The room held its breath, each of you caught in the precarious balance between conflict and composure.

The man turned, observing each of your faces. A sigh escaped him. A heavy, pitiful sound. And then, he lifted the cup and took a measured sip, his eyes locking onto yours.

“It is safe," he said after swallowing, "I have brewed this remedy countless times for myself." He held the cup out to you, making room for you to take his place beside Jeongin.

Cradling the cup in your hands, the warmth seeped through your fingertips. Jeongin stirred, eyelashes fluttering against the pale flush of his skin as you stepped up beside the armchair.

Feeling the need for guidance, you thought of Chan. Then, Felix. Jisung, an unpredictable force, lingered in your considerations too.

But when your head lifted, it wasn't Chan, Felix, or Jisung you looked to.

Minho nodded in silent reassurance, and it was all you needed to bring the cup to Jeongin's lips.

After he'd taken the last sip of the remedy, you turned and looked the man dead in the eyes as you pushed the cup back into his hands. "If anything happens to him because of this," you asserted, "I won't hesitate to kill you myself."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Felix's lips twitch upward. And in that subtle expression, you could’ve sworn you detected something that looked a lot like pride.

As the night wore on, something incredibly rare began to settle over your group—a blooming sense of trust. The culmination of the day's events, coupled with the comforting atmosphere inside the cottage gradually pulled each of you into a sense of security.

With Jeongin's condition showing signs of stabilizing, Hyunjin and Changbin decided to venture back to the rover to fetch supplies, too wary to leave them out in the open. Leaned against the armchair, Seungmin was first to fall asleep after Jeongin. Minho and Jisung had found solace in each other's presence near the hearth, where the dancing flames bathed their sleeping forms in a subtle glow.

In the midst of it all, Chan had occupied a seat across from the man at the table. They were deep in hushed conversation, discussing matters out of earshot, but the sound of their voices mingling carried an odd sense of security with it.

You found your own sanctuary nestled discreetly in a corner beside Felix. Shielded by miscellaneous objects and shadows, the position rendered you just out of direct eyesight from the two engrossed in conversation at the table.

The firelight played upon the subtle arch of his nose, the gentle curve of his lips, the way his eyelashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks. Your hand gravitated toward his, and he responded by entwining his fingers with your own.

"I'll stay up with you," you murmured softly, "wasn't planning on falling asleep tonight anyway."

Felix responded with a soft kiss to your temple before guiding you to lie down with him, finding a more comfortable position. He pulled you into his chest and you raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry, glancing to the others. But the freckled boy only grinned as he pulled you closer.

“Sleep,” he murmured softly.

Succumbing to the moment, you laid your head down against his chest, relishing in the comforting beat of his heart.

As his fingers began to trail across your back in soothing circles, you hesitantly draped an arm over his waist, too tired to care about what the others might think—what Hyunjin might think, when he returned to find you like this.

Your mind drifted as you tried to keep the exhaustion at bay.

You imagined waking up to a rooftop bathed in gentle sunlight. You pictured the soft glow of a lantern in a narrow alleyway, reflecting off of sad eyes that carried so much more when they looked to the moon.

The last coherent thing that crossed your mind was the confession you'd been holding back since the moment you'd spent with Felix in the rain.

You might have murmured his name as those three little words resurfaced in your thoughts, but the boundary between wakefulness and dreams blurred.

A sudden jolt snapped you back from the brink of sleep, leaving you momentarily disoriented.

Still wrapped in Felix's arms, you anticipated to find him awake when you lifted your head from his chest. However, the features that met your gaze were softened by the gentle embrace of sleep. As your eyes lingered on him, you hoped that he would be granted solace from the nightmares tonight.

You brushed a few strands of hair from his face before sitting up, settling into a watchful position. It couldn't be too much longer now until Hyunjin and Changbin returned.

The rover wasn't that far.

You blinked, trying to regain a hold on your surroundings. As your tired eyes struggled to focus, they fell upon Chan. He now sat leaning against the wall next to the door, a testament to his determination to wait for Hyunjin and Changbin. His eyes were closed, head resting back, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm—likely never intending to succumb to sleep.

A subtle noise caught your attention across the room, where man stood at a small basin in the kitchen, washing the pot he'd used to brew Jeongin's tea. His back was turned to you, the slight limp in his step evident as he shifted on his feet.

Glancing around the cottage, you made note of the various items scattered about. An aged book sat on a small table next to the armchair. Beside it lay an ornate silver necklace, its chain interlaced with dried white flowers that you didn't recognize.

Across from you, a glimmer reflected off of a small chest on a bookshelf, as if it had been purposefully tucked away amongst the clutter.

Your heart skipped a beat as you focused on the lock—at the symbol engraved on it.

So hauntingly familiar..

You squinted.

And then, your heart plummeted. Right down to your stomach.

You were standing before you'd even willed your feet to move, fueled by sheer instinct as your hand found its way to the knife securely strapped to your waistband.

The blade gleamed as you pulled it out. Your footsteps fell light as a whisper on the wooden floor as you approached the man, tightening your grip on the knife's handle to give you some semblance of control.

His hands, still glistening with water, hovered in the air as he twisted his head to acknowledge your presence.

"Why,” you growled, “does that chest bear the symbol of—"

You stiffened as he turned around, wiping his hands on a thin towel. "Sit," he urged, nodding to one of the two chairs positioned around the table.

“No," you lifted the blade and pointed it directly at him, surprised at how steady it was given the tremor coursing through your body. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t—”

"You are correct," he cut you off, "that chest indeed bears the mark of your father's army. But it also carries the weight of my own history."

A chill slithered down your spine as you could physically feel the blood drain from your face. The room swayed around you as you staggered, clutching at the edge of the table to steady yourself.

Despite the shock that painted your expression, the man remained impassive. You stood frozen in place, muscles locked with fear, as he navigated the intimate confines of the cottage to retrieve the small chest from the shelf.

He cradled it in his hands before placing it on the table with deliberate care.

"Sit," he repeated, settling into the chair across from you.

“H-how," you stammered. Your eyes darted over your shoulder to Chan, at the heavy weapon across his lap. But before you could muster the words to call for him, the man spoke again.

“I suspected who you were the moment I saw you standing on my doorstep. Initially, I mistook you for a ghost," he shook his head, voice softening, "the resemblance you bear to her is unmistakable. But it wasn't until this very moment, with that knife in your hand, that I knew for sure."

Without a word, you lowered yourself into the chair across from him.

Pleased with your reaction, the man reached beneath his shirt to reveal a necklace with a dangling key. He used the key to unlock the chest, extracting a worn cloth from within.

The cloth was unraveled to reveal a blade. It was identical to your own in size and shape. Yet, despite the apparent resemblance, the engravings told a different story. Crimson red flowers adorned the handle of the knife in his hand, a stark contrast to the white blossoms etched into your mother’s.

“A lifetime ago," the man cleared his throat, drawing your attention away from the twin blades. "I was a commander in your father's army. But in truth, I was more than that. A confidant, an advisor, and dare I say, his friend. Your father was never entirely sound of mind, even in his youth, but power has a way of magnifying the cracks in one's sanity. ”

He swallowed thickly, as if the following words were difficult to articulate. "I cannot absolve myself either," he confessed, "in the pursuit of my own power and blind loyalty, I too committed unspeakable acts. I followed orders without question, turning a blind eye to the suffering we caused. I assisted your father in making the decisions that stain his hands—decisions that haunt me still.”

"Stop," you croaked. Your chest tightened as you grappled with a rising tide of nausea. And you questioned whether your legs would even hold you if you tried to stand. "How is it even possible that we found you.."

The ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "Fate, my dear, works in mysterious ways," he answered, "and it seems to have conspired to bring you here tonight, to hear my truth."

After a brief pause, he redirected the conversation. "Many years ago, there was a woman, a guide of sorts, known for leading those from the outer districts to District 9 in search of a better life.”

Hira.

As best as you could, you veiled the flicker of recognition that sparked within you at her mention.

“Your mother was amongst those brought to District 9, to the palace. The moment your father laid eyes on her, he was consumed by a new kind of obsession. Within a week they were married. And the world, entranced by fear of his power, did not dare question it. He bound her to him—not out of love, but in the twisted grip of an obsession with her determination, her beauty, and her strength. Of course, there was also a dire urgency to ensure that his lineage persisted, rooted in the truth that only his bloodline could unlock the secrets of a hidden sanctum nestled deep within in District 2."

"Miroh," you whispered shakily.

He offered a solemn nod. “Your father saw your mother as a means to an end. He stripped away her dreams, her hopes, and caged her spirit. Yet, in the shadowed corridors of the palace, I came to understand her," a wistful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "She was resilient, even in the face of cruelty. During the stolen moments we shared, she taught me about the outer districts and those we had oppressed. Through her, I learned not just about the struggles of these people, but about love, kindness, and hope.”

The sigh he let out carried the weight of a lifetime. The pain and the tenderness in his words echoed as you recognized that these were the most intimate details anyone had ever shared with you about your mother.

"Months later," he continued, "your mother entrusted me with a secret that would alter the course of our lives. I saw the fear in her eyes when she told me she that was pregnant—the fear that your father could pose a threat to the life growing within her. The following morning, duty dictated that I embark on a routine scouting mission in the outer districts. While I was there, my heart drove me to make a harrowing decision," he closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "I slit the throats of the guards who had accompanied me. I burned their bodies beyond recognition, and in doing so I faked my own death. I built this cottage and the plan was simple—return for your mother, liberate her from the clutches of your father so that she may raise her child in peace. However, a year elapsed before the circumstances permitted my return. When I finally slipped back into the heart of District 9, under the cloak of darkness, it was only to learn that she had.."

He trailed off, unable to utter the painful conclusion.

Your stomach churned with the deep, unresolved ache tied to the memories of your mother. At the thought of her existence being shrouded in some kind of tragic narrative, and the the crushing realization that you would never know the full truth of her journey because she was gone.

The man's eyes fell to the blade in front of him, fingers tracing the engravings as if seeking solace in their familiar touch. And you didn't even know if you could believe a single word he'd said, but you wondered if he was the one to have given your mother the counterpart.

“I loved her, your mother,” his voice broke. The words hung in the air—dense, and fractured, and he did not look up as he continued.

“I loved her deeply, but in our time spent together I never summoned the courage to tell her those words. I believe she knew it, I know she did, and yet, it haunts me still. It always will. More than anything.”

The sorrow and regret etched on his face told the story of a lifetime's worth of remorse. It was a familiar expression, the same torment you had seen in Felix's eyes countless times before.

You glanced to the freckled boy, his silhouette barely visible in the dying firelight.

And then, another realization struck you. With a tremor of uncertainty in your voice, you turned back to the man. “You and my mother..Did you ever..Is there any chance that you could be my..” the words faltered with the possibility of a truth too profound to fully grasp.

He brought a hand up, rubbing at his face. "I don't know," he shook his head, "your mother and I were together before I left, once. But there is no way to know for certain until you reach Miroh. If you cannot open the lock, if it is my blood that runs through your veins instead of his, then I have damned us all."

The man fixed you with an intense stare. "If he finds you before you reach Miroh,” he quieted his voice to a gravelly whisper, “if he finds you, if the rebellion fails, he will kill them all—“

"I am not afraid of him," you croaked.

"You should be," he warned, "You should be terrified of him. Because he will save that one," he nodded his chin in Felix's direction, "for last. He will draw it out because of the way you look at him. And he will savor it until the bitter end."

His eyes bore into yours, urging you to understand the gravity of his words. "If you love that boy, tell him. Even if you think you may love him, tell him. Before it is too late.”

It was then that you registered the hot tracks of tears on your cheeks.

You were going to be sick.

As the vivid, gut-wrenching image of Felix suffering at the hands of your father seared through your mind, you were going to be sick.

You pushed the chair back, stumbling to your feet.

Desperate to put physical space between yourself and the cruel fate that had been painted before you, you burst outside, gasping for air.

As you doubled over, clutching at your chest, the rhythmic echoes of footsteps reached your ears. There were tears streaming down your cheeks when you turned around to confront the man, ready to demand answers.

But it wasn't his figure that stepped into the dim light seeping from the door.

As Felix took a cautious step forward, the expression he wore told you he had heard everything. Including the very unsettling possibility that your blood might not be the key to Miroh—that the hope every single one of you had clung to might always have been nothing more than just a fragile, fragile illusion.

"What if my blood doesn’t work?” you choked out through tears as he closed the distance between you, the weight of his gaze holding you in place.

"We don't know for sure yet, okay?”

"Felix," you pleaded his name like there was something he could do. As if he weren't just as helpless as you.

"I will not let anything happen to you," he whispered as his arms enveloped your trembling shoulders. "You're okay. We're okay,"

You shook your head, closing your eyes as Felix gently lifted your chin. "I will not let anyone hurt you," he vowed, traced the path of your tears with his thumbs.

But Felix could sense the panic tightening its grip on you, rendering your breaths shallow and uneven. The ache to alleviate your distress clawed at him. He would've done anything to make it stop. And so, in that vulnerable moment he summoned the courage to articulate the only thing he had left to offer.

“I love you,” he whispered, “I love you, princess. No matter what.”

Felix closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against yours. He reveled in the feeling of his own admission, and it was something even fear could not outweigh.

You breathed him in.

You knew this would not last forever with him. Nothing ever does. And you wondered if you will ever be able to accept that, even when you no longer have a choice.

But in that moment, Felix was there. You extended a hand, and he was warm. He was real, and he felt more like home than anything ever had.

You loved him too, and it was a feeling you did not dare let go.

Part 8 coming soon..

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stayxlix · 8 months

Text

off the deep end. (06)

~(part six) the echoes of loss ~

pairing: rebel!felix x reader (f)

genre: non-idol au, post-apocalypse/dystopian au. wc: 20.8k

series rating: 18+ **minors do not interact**

chapter warnings: violent mature themes, explicit sexual content (consensual, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), dom/sub themes), mentions of murder/death, oppressive government, fighting, weaponry (gunfire, knife use), injury, blood, vivid descriptions of nightmares, language, major angst as always, please lmk if i missed any!!

a/n: thank you all so much for your patience and continued support, it really does keep this story alive.<3 as always any feedback, likes, and reblogs are more appreciated than you know. i've been feeling a lil nervous to post this (what else is new lol) but im so happy to finally be able to share it with you. i hope you enjoy this one, its a bit of a doozy.♡♡

~series masterlist~

“Things become sweeter after they have been lost. When I finally grasped what I'd so desperately yearned for, it was turned to dust in my hands. And a small part of my mind remembers an alternate pattern of events, before I opened my eyes and returned to cold embrace of a reality in which I never truly belonged.”

Swallowed by darkness, he's stumbling backward but he isn't going anywhere. His mind isn't working correctly, isn't processing. His knees hit the ground and he closes his eyes but he can still see them. Misshapen faces, their expressions warped, disfigured, as they look through him. Right down to where the remorse festers in his guilt-ridden soul. He's delirious, on the verge of flight or fight. His chest constricts as he takes in shallow breaths. He tries to speak, to beg for their forgiveness. Yet its as if his lips have been sewn shut, his tongue far too heavy to move.

Instead, they speak to him in distorted voices that swell as he covers his ears. And suddenly they're reaching out, clamping icy fingers around his throat, pulling his hair, clawing deep scratches into his skin. They ask if he remembers their faces, what he's done to them, but how could he forget? Don't they know he carries it with him? Don't they know how it haunts him? He recoils, he fights to break free, but its no use. It never is. Even as his eyes wrench open, their grip lingers. A permanent reminder that they’re a part of him, and they always will be. Waiting for him there in the shadows every time he dares to close his eyes.

With a sudden jolt, his body shot upright from the hard wooden floor, covered in cold sweat that sent a shiver coursing through his frame. A shuddering exhale fell from his lips as he ran a trembling hand through his hair. A single tear traced a silent path down his cheek—a physical manifestation of the nightmare.

He blinked, taking in his surroundings.

Shadows danced across the walls as the faint glow of the moon filtered in through the boarded window above his head. As his breathing steadied, his focus began to sharpen. There, around him, lie the slumbering forms of his friends, his soul mates, the only people in the world he could trust. Each was nestled in their own corner of the room, soundly asleep, their tranquil faces untouched by the horrors that plagued his own mind.

And then, he glanced down to his side, to the figure closest to him.

You stirred, a slight pout forming on your lips as if your subconscious had somehow sensed his absence. His fingers twitched as he watched the slow, steady rhythm of your chest, and an unconscious urge fell over him to reach out and touch you. To reassure himself that this was real.

That you were real.

He eased his aching body back down onto the floor. You shifted closer, instinctively reaching out for him, and he welcomed the warmth of your touch.

Felix knew he’d have no chance at falling asleep again tonight, the clutches of the nightmare having left their mark on his consciousness. It was routine. He was used to it. So he lie there, still and contemplative, as his eyes trained to the ceiling. And it was in moments like these that his mind often drifted, the quiet solitude granting him the opportunity to reflect on his past and the individuals that had shaped his present.

Felix was born into a life stripped of control. He gritted his teeth when the devil’s symbol was seared into his back. He took lives when commanded—some innocent, some not—but he did it without question because it was all he’d ever been taught to do. Like second nature, he had grown numb to its weight. And in a twisted way, the sense of control that taking a life brought had become addicting to Felix. A fleeting illusion of power in a world where he’d always had none.

By the time Felix met Bang Chan, he had forgotten what it meant to be human, if he had ever truly known at all. He walked through life with a detached numbness. A hollow vessel, weighed down by the gravity of his sins. When Felix met Bang Chan, he had all but lost his soul. However it quickly became clear that Chan, despite being just a few years older than Felix, possessed the ability to help him find it again.

With the wisdom of someone far beyond his age, Chan became a guiding light for Felix. He instilled in Felix a moral compass, and although it might have been a broken compass that didn't function correctly all the time, at least it was there. At least Chan was there, to guide Felix back whenever the needle threatened to point in the wrong direction.

And so, in time, with Chan by his side Felix gradually came to realize that despite the desolation around them, despite the horrible things he had done in his life and the monsters who had forced him to do them, there would always be things worth fighting for.

Things worth fighting for, and people worth believing in.

Felix had never come across anyone with such innate passion for survival, until he crossed paths with Seo Changbin. A force to be reckoned with, Changbin was unapologetically himself. A fiercely loyal companion who challenged Felix to push beyond his limits—both physically and mentally. Changbin was the flame that reignited Felix's spirit, and through his unwavering support, Felix gathered the strength to keep moving forward no matter how hopeless things may seem.

Felix had never been particularly fond of loud noises, until he heard Han Jisung fill an empty space with laughter for the first time. In Jisung’s presence, Felix often found himself caught in fleeting moments where he could allow himself to be young, to feel free. He gained new experiences through Jisung, who had a way of weaving captivating stories and spinning enchanting tales that demanded the attention of everyone around him. Even if it was no secret among the group that many of Jisung's stories were fabrications, born from his own need to conceal the burdens he carried, that didn’t stop Felix from hanging on to every word. And sometimes, on sleepless nights when the lines between nightmare and reality blurred, when he felt himself slipping away again, Felix would replay those stories in his mind. He would imagine himself in Jisung’s place instead, and it helped.

Felix had never truly grasped the fragile nature of human life, until he was introduced to Lee Minho. Despite his awareness of Minho's skills as a trained healer, Felix was more than hesitant to let the boy from District 9 treat his wounds. His body bore a map of faded scars. Every mark served as a permanent reminder of the cruel nature of the world that had shaped him. The idea of relinquishing control, even to someone as capable as Minho, ignited a fire of reluctance within Felix. And so, instead of accepting his help, Felix chose to let his own cuts bleed as he observed Minho tend to the wounds of his companions. Countless times, he watched Minho’s patient hands move with a touch so delicate it was unlike anything he had ever witnessed before.

But this wasn't the only reason that Felix found himself drawn to Minho's presence. Because Felix came to realize that beyond his remarkable ability to mend physical wounds, Lee Minho also possessed a unique understanding of the intricacies of the human heart.

In Minho's company, Felix didn’t feel the need to maintain a facade of unyielding strength the same way he did with Chan. And whereas Jisung introduced Felix to fleeting moments of happiness, Minho taught Felix that it was okay to feel like he didn’t deserve them—that grappling with his self worth didn't make him weaker. Minho's impact on shaping his sense of self was profound. And it was because of this that Felix, who had entered the world without an identity, eventually came to find comfort in embracing Minho's surname as his own.

Lee Felix found himself captivated by the bond shared between Kim Seungmin and Yang Jeongin, a testament to the strength that comes from placing unwavering trust in another human being. Their connection stirred a repressed longing within Felix for a similar closeness, and Seungmin’s patient demeanor granted Felix the freedom to achieve it. To open up at his own pace, to learn to navigate the delicate art of trust on his terms. Seungmin asked questions with genuine interest, but he didn’t pry, he didn’t judge, and so he and Felix were quick to develop a bond of their own built on the steady foundation of mutual respect.

In Jeongin, Felix witnessed an innocence that he himself had been denied. Throughout his life, Felix had grown accustomed to the way others regarded him. Those he had targeted as victims consistently bore the same expressions of fear. And among the boys, despite their best efforts to conceal it, there was always an undertone of pity in their eyes when they looked to Felix.

But when Felix met Jeongin's eyes, he saw no traces of fear or pity behind them. Instead, he saw genuine admiration. And although the role of mentorship was not something Felix had ever sought, it was in the youngest member of the group that he discovered a newfound sense of purpose—the responsibility to serve as a guardian himself in a world where innocence was more than rare.

Lee Felix had never found comfort in a silent space, and he never understood people who did. People like Hwang Hyunjin, who could sit for hours underneath a gnarled oak tree with only the still air and a journal to keep him company. To Hyunjin, the silence was as much of an empty canvas as the pages in front of him, and he used it to sketch his thoughts in elegant strokes, capturing the faded beauty of a dying world. Hyunjin’s ability to create something delicate with his own two hands was a talent that fascinated Felix, who’d always had a tendency to overlook the intricate details of life.

Always restless, constantly on the move, Felix was a perpetual wanderer who trampled over flowers underneath his shoes, who paid no mind to the warmth of a summer breeze against his skin. Even the moon had once been nothing more than a distant companion to Felix, overshadowed by the need to keep moving to survive.

Until he found Hyunjin.

After fate led Felix to Chan, it brought him to Hyunjin.

Beneath an uncharacteristically clear sky on a sweltering summer afternoon in District 4, Felix found himself compelled to venture out in search of water. It'd been a few days since he’d last seen Chan after the older boy had embarked on a supply run that he'd insisted on making alone, so after leaving behind a small note in their usual spot, Felix set off. Determined not to stray too far, his steps were fueled not only by his parched tongue but also the need to keep his mind off of his growing concern for Chan’s absence.

It wasn't long before Felix found himself within a thick patch of vegetation, where he came across a small pond. And as he stood at the pond's edge, swiping the hair from his sticky forehead and debating on whether or not he was desperate enough to drink the murky liquid, a figure emerged from the brush on the opposite side.

A golden haired boy, injured and in desperate need of help.

Felix’s initial instinct was to take advantage of the boy’s vulnerabilities, to steal what he could from him and abandon him to his fate. But he was different now. He was no longer the person he once was. Throughout his time spent alongside Chan, Felix had learned how to reset his own compass. And so, with newfound clarity he cautiously approached the boy. Felix draped an arm around his waist, and in silence he helped support the boy's weight as the two retraced his steps back to camp.

That night, as the boy drifted in and out of consciousness, Felix’s knowledge of his background remained confined to a single detail. A name—Hyunjin. And as Hyunjin slept, Felix pressed two fingers to his neck periodically to make sure that his heart was still beating.

Felix thanked the gods he'd never believed in when Chan returned the following evening. Through a single shared glance between two kindred souls who had become attuned to each other’s thoughts, a silent conversation was held. Understanding passed between them, followed by a nod of approval from Chan that resonated deeply with Felix.

While Chan himself was no medical expert, his time spent navigating the districts had offered him a bit more understanding about basic healing than Felix—who had been trained solely in the art of taking lives, never saving them. Chan hastily took over Hyunjin’s care, making most of the limited supplies he had returned with. And that night, as the moon returned to bathe their campsite in a delicate silver embrace, as Chan monitored Hyunjin’s sleeping form, he shared with Felix the story of a place called Clé and a woman named Hira.

His words painted the picture of a sanctuary for lost souls, orchestrated by an arms dealer whose beauty shone through her scars. The corridors within Clé called out to those who believed in the possibility of an escape from their lives. However, its doors were not open to all seeking solace.

Hira selected her guests with a discerning eye, choosing to bestow her favor upon only the most physically alluring souls. And those deemed unworthy were turned away, left to return to the unforgiving terrain of the districts they so desperately wished to escape.

Individuals that did find themselves granted access to Clé were groomed to master the art of pleasure, sculpted and shaped to perfection through teachings that revolved around the art of evoking desire and temptation. And when Hira deemed them sufficiently molded by her touch, she would whisper them away to District 9, transported by armed guards to the heart of the Inner Circle—where their beauty would become its own form of currency, traded away to the leaders who governed its polished streets.

It was a journey that came at the highest of prices, demanding a sacrifice of dignity in pursuit of survival. A final attempt to slip free from the rusty chains of their current existence, only to find themselves imprisoned on the other side by a shiny new cage with an unbreakable lock.

It didn’t take long for Chan’s heavy eyes to fall shut that night, eager to embrace the welcome arms of sleep now that he was back where he belonged. But even as light began to flood the sky above, sleep remained elusive for Felix. He suddenly found himself gripped by an unexpected gratitude for his own past, for it had ultimately led him in the opposite direction from the sinister paths that snaked throughout District 9. And as he lie there pondering the twists and turns of fate, Felix found himself wondering if he would have meet Hira's standards, had he found himself seeking refuge within Clé. He contemplated whether or not he would ever have been deemed worthy of a destination such as District 9—a question that lingered within his consciousness for quite some time, even if he had no real desire to know the answer.

As the days turned to weeks, as Hyunjin's condition gradually improved, the duo became a trio. They fell into a seamless rhythm, trading roles and responsibilities without the need for explicit communication. Hyunjin effortlessly assumed the role of the heartstrings that held the three of them together. Each time Felix let his temper get the best of him, it was Hyunjin who went chasing after. Whenever Chan pushed himself beyond his limits, it was always Hyunjin who stepped up in his place. And as the weeks faded into months, as Felix came to know Hyunjin on a deeper level, it was as if a filter over his eyes had begun to lift. The once-overlooked intricacies of the world now caught his attention. Hyunjin intrigued Felix in a way that nothing ever had, and the shared curiosity between them prompted the two to weave a separate history of their own.

But it was a complicated history, one that struggled to withstand the pull of Felix’s dark past. Because whenever their friendship edged on evolving into something more, Felix would instinctively withdraw, grappling with his inner turmoil and the fear of exposing Hyunjin to the mistakes of his past. Hyunjin, too, harbored secrets of his own, which only added to the strain between them. And despite the tender moments that were truly good, they were both still so young. Too young to fully understand the complexities of love and life.

Too human, to comprehend the workings of fate and destiny, but still perceptive enough to appreciate the significance of what had brought them together. Which is why, even after it all came crashing down, spiraling far out of either of their control, the bond between them remained. A delicate bond, worn and frayed at the edges, was left lingering in place of something that could have been so much more. But it remained, nonetheless. Because Hyunjin had been there on nights when Chan couldn’t be. When Felix woke from unforgiving nightmares, drenched in sweat and overcome with fear, the golden haired boy was at his side in an instant to wipe away his tears and provide soft hums that lulled him back to sleep.

And so even now, in moments when his ears buzzed with silence, Felix continued to find peace in Hyunjin's presence. Because just as Chan had shown Felix the difference between right and wrong, between morality and depravity, Hyunjin taught Felix the true essence of living. To appreciate the colors of the sky when before he had only seen shades of grey. To hear the music in a quiet moment when there was no sound. To feel the warmth of shared memories through the ghost of Hyunjin’s touch, long after he stopped receiving it.

Hyunjin left a new kind of mark on Felix, a testament to the level of emotion he was capable of feeling. Which is why when Felix met you it was as if fate had given him a second chance to explore the depths of human connection. He built his walls like always—old habits die hard, or something like that—but this time Felix built them on a foundation that was just a little less sturdy.

A fraction less resilient than before.

Because in your eyes, he saw the reflection of the person he was still struggling to become—someone who had known darkness and pain but still managed to overcome it. You didn’t avoid his scars, you looked directly at them with understanding and acceptance in your eyes. And in the intimate moments when it was just the two of you, Felix felt a sense of belonging that he had never experienced before. Not even with Hyunjin, whose efforts to unravel his innermost layers had fallen short because there was a part of Felix that Hyunjin could never fully reach, no matter how hard he fought to.

But you, you soothed his burning skin with your touch, closed open wounds with every kiss, mended his broken soul a little further every time you spoke his name. Which is why this time, Felix wasn’t just letting his walls come down—he was tearing them down himself. Because in your presence, Felix had begun to develop the hope that some day he would be able to free himself completely from the darkness that had once consumed him.

And as he lie there beside you that night in Clé, Felix couldn't help but notice the way your fingers occasionally brushed across his form as if to reassure yourself that he was there. He shut his eyes, he recalled the gentle pressure of your hands through his hair just hours before, and as he relished in the comforting warmth of your body next to his, Felix felt himself begin to believe in the possibility of a different kind of love that wouldn’t end in loss.

For the first time in his life, Felix allowed himself to entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

The night was eerily still, save for the faint rustling of leaves outside as a gentle breeze slipped in through the boards covering the windows. You were lost in a comfortable, dreamless sleep when an insistent shake startled you awake. When your eyes snapped open you found yourself face to face with Felix, his own eyes wide and brimming with alarm.

“Hey, wake up,” his hushed voice reached your ears through the darkness, and despite the drowsiness that still clung to your senses, it would have been impossible to miss the urgency in his tone. “Something isn’t right.”

You sat up quickly, the familiar feeling of adrenaline beginning to flood your veins once again, erasing any lingering remnants of sleep. Felix draped the jacket you had been using as pillow around himself before promptly pulling you to your feet.

“What’s happening? Where is everyone?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your free hand as you registered the emptiness of the room that had been full when you'd fallen asleep. Felix shook his head, his grip on your hand firm as he swiftly guided you toward the door. “They’re downstairs. We need to go.”

“What? Go where?"

“Anywhere but here, we need to go," he urged. Without further question, you hurriedly followed him down the dimly lit corridor. When your gaze briefly fell to the supply closet, your time spent inside with him earlier that night flashed through your mind, warming your cheeks. But the memory was quickly overshadowed by a shrill cry that pierced the air when you reached the top of the staircase.

Felix quickened his pace, mirroring the rising hysteria in the voice that grew louder with every step you descended. Your hold on him tightened when you registered the words it carried.

The same words. Two simple words. Repeated over and over again.

I'm sorry.

The source of the voice was revealed at the bottom of the staircase, where you were met with the sight of Yeonjun, kneeling on the floor in the kitchen. A handful of small candles flickered on the table, casting a warm glow across face—cheeks wet with tears, puffy eyes red and swollen as he looked up to where Hira stood over him.

Sensing your unease, Felix lightly squeezed your hand, urging you to stay put as he observed the exchange between Yeonjun and Hira.

"How could you?!" Hira’s voice erupted in sudden anger, her fury directed down at the crying boy. Her tone was chilling, ice cold, and the words that followed sent an electric shock drilling up your spine. “You’ve sentenced us all to death.”

Glancing to Felix, you held your breath as you watched his features darken. The look in his eyes reflected your own growing realization, and your suspicions were confirmed when Yeonjun's voice rang out again.

“They threatened me! They were going to kill me, and they were going to come back for you!" A sob caught in his throat, and he paused to swallow it down before continuing. “They promised to let us go..they said they wouldn’t hurt anyone..that they just wanted to talk to them, and I-I’m sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, Felix."

When Yeonjun turned to look at him, Felix froze. His eyes went wide and his grip on your hand went stiff, leaving you with a sinking feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach.

Because not only did he know why Yeonjun was sorry, but he knew exactly who they were.

And so did you.

Movement against the far wall caught your attention as the thin curtain over the window was blown aside by a gust of wind. Through the open space, you noticed two round spots of yellow light in the distance. And Yeonjun's cries were drowned out by the frantic drumming of your heartbeat in your ears when you realized that they were headlights.

Time stood still as the fragile moment of solace you had found with the freckled boy last night was shattered to irreparable pieces. From the corner of your vision, you caught sight of Hyunjin as he came rushing in through the entrance to the kitchen. “They're getting closer, we need to go now!" His panicked words, along with your shared understanding of the situation, left no room for further hesitation from either you or Felix.

A fiery determination seemed to ignite within Felix when he began to move, dragging you with him. You lowered your head as you passed by Yeonjun and Hira in the confined space, however your heightened senses were immediately called back into focus when a cold hand clasped around your free wrist. Your movement came to an abrupt halt, causing Felix to do the same. With wide eyes, you lifted your head to him before shifting your gaze down to where Hira had claimed a vice-like grip on your flesh.

As her sharp nails dug into your skin, leaving deep crescent shapes underneath, her elegant features twisted into something unsettling—something outright disturbing, that grew even more pronounced when her lips parted to speak.

"This is your fault," she snapped. "I knew it was you from the moment I laid eyes on you. The resemblance..I never expected to see her face again..but you..you look just like her."

The scrutiny in her eyes held a flicker of recognition, as if she saw someone else when she looked at you—as if you were suddenly entangled in a history that you hadn’t been a part of writing. And your mind raced as you tried to make sense of whatever connection she could possibly believe that you had to her own past.

“I-I don't know what you're talking about,” your voice quivered as she took a step closer. When you tried to free your wrist, she fastened her hold, forcibly yanking you toward her.

"Felix-"

The freckled boy reacted immediately when his name fell from your lips. Dropping your other hand, he lunged forward in a single motion, prying Hira's fingers from your wrist with such force that she stumbled back, colliding harshly with the wall. Long strands of tangled hair fell into her face at the impact, but she made no effort to sweep them away as her gaze shifted from Felix back to you.

Her words hovered in the space between you, but before they could fully settle in your mind, before you got any chance at all to ask her what they meant, a single bullet fell in through the open window—striking Hira in the skull with lethal precision.

Blood splattered across the wall behind her, a few droplets landing against your cheek as her lifeless body slumped to the ground.

Every muscle in your body locked as your focus tunneled to the frozen expression on her face and the disturbing sensation of the warm droplets against your skin.

Yeonjun’s cries turned violent when he crawled over to take her into his arms. And as you watched him cradle her limp form, the world around you suddenly felt so distant that hardly any of it seemed real at all.

When a second bullet embedded itself into the wall at your side, Felix swiftly drew you into the shelter of his chest. His deep voice resounded through the air, rising above Yeonjun's as he shouted at Hyunjin to “GO!” assuring him that the two of you would be close behind.

Around you, Hira's guests began to flood the room from various directions—the common area behind you, the staircase up ahead—and as their eyes fell upon their fallen leader, their shrieks formed a chilling chorus that drove you to seek further refuge in Felix's chest. He covered your ears with his hands to shield you from their screams, his touch gentle even amidst the chaos.

“Princess I need you to move, we have to go now,” he pleaded, tilting your head to meet his gaze. And the effect was immediate. The unspoken promise in his eyes to keep you safe, the sound of his voice, coupled with with the caress of his thumbs as they swiped the blood from your cheeks—it worked. Felix brought you back to the present moment as you grasped hold of the fact that your survival, that his survival, depended on getting the hell out of there.

You managed a single nod, and Felix took it as your agreement. In an instant, his arms were back around you as he began to shoulder through the horrified guests in the room. When you stumbled free of the kitchen, he broke into a swift run, replacing his grip on your hand.

"Stay close," he instructed, and you responded with a firm squeeze to his hand.

Outside, the fresh air hit cold against your clammy skin, shocking you out of fear and replacing it with fierce determination to protect the boy whose fingers were interlocked with yours. The moon that you had depended on for guidance so many times before was shrouded in darkness tonight. Unfamiliar voices, gunfire, and the rumble of a single engine in the distance filled the air behind you, disorienting you further.

Around the backside of the building, flashes of movement revealed where the rest of the boys had gathered at the rover. “They’re closing in! We need to get out of here!” Chan shouted in your direction.

Felix lifted the motorcycle to a standing position, and while he ensured it was ready to go, you squinted through the darkness to count the bodies in the rover.

Seven.

There were seven, including Hyunjin, who had assumed his original place beside Jisung. When you settled down on the bike after Felix, he reached behind himself to secure your arms around his waist. “Don’t let go, I’ve got you," he affirmed. His voice carried steady strength, and there was a sincerity in his words that made you believe that he meant them—that he did have you. And that you would always be safe with Felix, even if it would never be possible for him to guarantee.

When the rover carrying the rest of the boys surged ahead, Felix followed suit. Positioning the bike at its side, he quickly took the lead in front of Chan who directed him to steer the chase deeper into District 6. It meant veering off course from the route you had originally planned to take to get to Miroh, but none of that mattered now.

The morning you’d spent planning for your journey inside Yellow Wood felt like it had taken place years ago.

The night you’d shared with Felix on the rooftop, a lifetime.

Guided by a single headlight, Felix navigated the dark terrain expertly. He mastered every twist and turn, every jolt and bump, with skilled precision. And as the ground beneath you transitioned from soil into concrete, the barren stretches of land suddenly gave way to remnants of civilization once again.

Above you, a passing cloud released the the moon, freeing it to cast long shadows across fractured pavement that led straight toward a city. An abandoned city, from the looks of it, as there was no flickering firelight in the distance, no glimmering lanterns—only a dark expanse. An oppressive, pitch-black void that radiated something menacing, as if warning you to stay away.

The wind stung against your face when you lifted it from Felix's back. “You know where you’re going?!"

His attention remained fixed straight ahead as he shouted, “Been here a few times! Not enough to remember it all but we might be able to lose them in the streets!” And then, in a single movement, Felix placed one of his hands over yours where they were interlocked at his waist. It was a small gesture meant to reassure you, that instead made you regret everything—the entire chain of decisions that had led you to this point. Because the thought of what would happen to him if you weren't able to outrun your fathers guards tonight was a burden that you couldn't fathom bearing.

Towering structures loomed overhead as the vehicles raced into the city, their windows like hollow eyes watching over you as the sounds from the pursuing guards resonated in the near distance. The guards were close, but Felix was fast. He weaved in every direction, attempting to use the crumbling structures to your advantage, and surely he would have succeeded in losing them amidst the ruins if it had just been the two of you on the motorcycle. But the layout proved to be an added challenge because wherever he went, Felix had to ensure that Chan would be able to get through behind you.

And if he could, then your father’s guards could too.

Rounding a corner as you neared heart of the city, the street you had been following was unexpectedly barricaded by a collapsed building, leaving you trapped.

With no way forward, Felix brought the bike to a screeching halt.

“Fuck we have to find another way. Hold on,” he muttered, maneuvering the bike around just as Chan and the others pulled up behind you.

"We’re never going to be able to outrun them!” Minho shouted, his eyes darting back and forth in search of the best sign of escape.

“Everyone get out! We'll go on foot!” Chan commanded. And the boys obeyed without hesitation, driven solely by survival. Because that's what it was—survival. If caught, your father's men wouldn’t let them live.

And every single one of you knew it.

Following your lead, Felix swiftly dismounted the motorcycle. He cast it aside before reaching for your hand again, and you didn't hesitate to take it as Chan directed the group toward a building with glass doors that had been shattered open, beckoning you closer.

Upon entering, you found yourselves within a vast, open space underneath a high ceiling supported by several white pillars that gave the place an air of importance. Moonlight streamed in through elongated windows overhead, casting silhouettes along the once-pristine interior. The pale marble beneath your feet was cracked at nearly every inch of its surface, rendering you unsteady.

In a race against time, you pushed yourself to run faster than you ever had, pulled forward the boy you would have given anything to protect. Ragged breathing filled the air as you closed in on a second set of doors at the far end of the space, but before you could exhale a sigh of relief, a sudden cry rang out from behind you.

Your eyes swept across the scene, instantly drawn to where Jeongin was sprawled on the ground a few feet away, clutching his foot as he hissed in pain. It was difficult to discern through the darkness exactly what had happened, until a single beam of moonlight caught on something shiny protruding from the worn out sole of his shoe.

A shard of glass.

Felix took a step forward but Chan was closer, quickest to reach Jeongin’s side.

“I can keep going,” Jeongin insisted through clenched teeth as Changbin joined Chan in lifting him from the ground. His arms looped around their shoulders, and he began to limp forward while Chan shouted at the rest of you to keep moving.

You turned to Felix and when his wide eyes connected with your own, a sinking feeling took hold over your entire body. “It’s okay, we’re okay,” he breathed. Yet despite his words, despite his best efforts to conceal his fear, the steadfast determination that had marked his expression only minutes before had vanished entirely.

In an instant it was as if if you could feel your undeniable fate settle in around you, ready to consume you whole.

Slowed down by Jeongin’s injury, the danger the nine of you faced had reached a critical point. And the realization that you weren’t going to be able to escape it dawned on you the very moment you emerged from the threshold on the opposite side of the building.

Felix was first of the group to make it out, followed closely by you with your hands still interlocked. The second you set foot onto the pavement, the entire area around you was flooded with a blinding burst of light.

Flashlights and a single set of headlights were switched on, causing your senses to reel. Your eyes painfully adjusted to the sudden brightness, and your feet skidded on the gravel as you instinctively sought refuge behind Felix, lifting your hood and pulling it low to shield your face.

The menacing sound of numerous firearms being raised echoed throughout the air as they took aim at you from every direction. And the severity of the situation escalated even further when a second rover came barreling around the corner to join the first—rendering you severely outnumbered, with virtually no chance at escape.

Felix made an effort to withdraw, stumbling as he pushed you behind him. “Go, go, go!” he repeated, desperately urging you to retreat back inside the building. But despite his insistence, fear rooted you in place.

Over your shoulder, you watched as Minho and Changbin swiftly raised their own guns, taking up defensive positions just inside the entrance, knuckles white against the weapon's dark metal. They stood at the forefront next to Chan, who met your gaze through the shattered glass doors that separated you. And although his stance was resolute, the sheer terror in his eyes was overwhelming.

“Enough! Stand down!” a bellowing voice ripped through the air without warning. It was a familiar voice, you had heard it before, however in your current state of alarm you couldn’t recall exactly which one of your father’s guards it belonged to.

Your eyes remained fixed on Chan, who responded by bravely stepping out through the doors with raised hands. He took a few tentative steps forward, positioning himself directly beside Felix in a subtle attempt to further shield your face from the guards.

When Chan addressed them, his voice was surprising steady. “We don't want any trouble, we’re just trying to survive.”

“You’re fugitives. You’ve already caused enough trouble,” the guard snarled in response.

You pressed your forehead to Felix's back, clutching his jacket as you wrestled with the conflicting thoughts in your head. Maybe, you thought, maybe if you revealed your identity and offered yourself up in exchange, they would let the boys go. But it was a fleeting thought, because deep down you knew they wouldn’t.

They wouldn’t.

And the understanding that you were completely and utterly helpless was enough to bring tears to your eyes. But it was nothing in comparison to what you felt when you registered the shuffling sound of approaching footsteps.

Your pulse quickened as Felix shifted, straightening his posture and positioning himself closer to you.

“Wait-” Chan's voice rang out with urgency as he tried to take a step forward, only to be shoved aside by the barrel of a gun held by an unseen guard.

And then, without warning, Felix was suddenly wrenched from your grasp in a heart-stopping display of brutality.

The guard that seized him spun him around violently, and panic rose hot in your throat when his hand pressed down on Felix's head, driving him to his knees.

Without turning around, Chan motioned frantically for Minho and Hyunjin to lower their guns.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a bargaining chip," the guard taunted. His comrades snickered around him as he raised his gun and pressed the barrel against the back of Felix's head, tapping it a few times before resting it still.

Felix winced as he glanced up from his position on the ground. His eyes immediately found their way to yours, and the shimmering emotion in them hit you like a devastating blow.

"P-please, don't," you choked out, completely ignoring the fact that—aside from your hood—your face was almost entirely exposed. But your plea fell on deaf ears as the guard failed to acknowledge you. His index finger dropped to hover over the trigger, a sadistic smirk spread across his lips, and your stomach churned violently in response.

Felix was going to die.

The freckled boy with the stars in his eyes was going to die, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Well, maybe one thing.

Your trembling hands moved of their own accord, lifting to meet the thin fabric of your hood. A surge of alarm coursed through your veins when a second guard's voice rang out, "You there, freeze!"

Felix's expression dropped, pleading with you through the silent connection of your eyes to reconsider.

Chan didn't utter a single word, but you felt him tense beside you.

You tuned them all out.

With a shaky breath, a heavy heart, and all but one of the guards' guns now pointed in your direction, you lowered your hood. And in the fleeting moment before your face was fully revealed, you mouthed the words "I'm sorry" to Felix, hoping he would find some way to understand.

Hushed murmurs rose around you, filling the air. The guard who held Felix hesitated as he studied your face. His gaze was firm, eyes unblinking, as he traced along your features. His expression gradually shifted from uncertainty to recognition. And he smiled. He smiled—a sinister curl of his lips. Because he knew that by dragging you back to your father, he would secure a life of unimaginable wealth and resources—far beyond what anyone in the outer districts could ever imagine.

The instant your eyes met, a wave of recognition surged within you as well. Because although you'd never bothered to learn his name, his face, along with the devilish glint in his eyes, had been imprinted into your memory ever since the night of the raid. When he had whisked you away from the grand hall, separating you from Felix then, too.

The guard opened his mouth to speak and you instinctively reached for the knife in your waistband, bracing yourself for whatever was to come. But you would never get to know the words that fell from his lips, as his voice was instantly swallowed by the deafening crack of a gunshot that ripped through the air.

The guard beside him was struck, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

“What the-"

Whoever said it, you couldn’t be sure.

You ducked down, instincts urging you to seek cover as a shower of bullets began to flood the air. When you lifted your head, you witnessed Felix waste no time in engaging the guard in a desperate struggle for control of the gun. You shifted, driven by the desire to help him, but it was almost as if he had anticipated your thoughts when he called out for you to “stay down, y/n!”

Crouched on the ground with your hands above your head, you watched in awe as he overpowered the guard with surprising skill—moving with a fluidity that told you he had done this countless times before. As soon as he gained control of the weapon, Felix used the blunt end to deliver a blow straight to the guard's chest, sending him tumbling to the ground. He cocked the gun with a polished flick of his wrist, and the fallen guard raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

With a single, split-second glance back to you, Felix turned and pointed it at the man’s head with chilling certainty.

And you looked away, burying your face in your hands, when he pulled the trigger.

The next think you knew, the next thing you remembered, Felix was at your side—arms encircling your upper body, a warm hand on the back of your neck. And although you thought you might have heard his voice reach out to you, thought maybe your name had fallen from his lips, it was impossible to make sense of anything over the ringing in your ears.

Summoning the courage to peer through your fingers, you finally gained the opportunity to grasp hold of the situation as it played out before you.

Your eyes fell upon three figures, each armed with heavy weapons of their own, atop three stocky animals. Their presence suggested that the initial gunfire hadn’t come from any of the guards or the boys. And your jaw dropped when you glimpsed a flash of red hair.

Yeonjun.

It was Yeonjun, flanked by two unfamiliar individuals that you could only assume to be more of Hira’s people, seeking revenge for their fallen leader.

Their arrival had thrown the entire situation into an unexpected twist, offering momentary relief for you and the boys. But the relief was short lived, because although Yeonjun and the others had secured the element of surprise, they too faced the critical disadvantage of being outnumbered.

Huddled over you, Felix let out a gasp as his own eyes locked with Yeonjuns.

"Get out of here, Felix!" Yeonjun's strained voice pierced through the chaos.

Felix froze in disbelief, visibly astonished.

You tugged on his sleeve, but he remained motionless. You tried to speak, but no words came out. Time seemed to grind to a halt, and for a moment, it was as if it would never start again.

Until Chan's strong grip took hold of your arm.

"Come on!" he urged, determination filling his eyes as he pulled you with him. Felix, still dazed, stumbled to his feet beside you, and the three of you sprinted into the building, heartbeats pounding in rhythm with your steps.

Even after you'd made it inside, Felix's reluctance to leave Yeonjun behind was evident. You broke free from Chan's grasp when you noticed that he had come to a stop behind you. "Felix, we need to go," you pleaded as you rushed over to him, grabbing his hand to try and pull him with you.

"It's okay," you continued. But it wasn't.

"They'll be alright," you added. But they wouldn't.

"Please, Felix," you implored, "I need you." And it wasn't until your trembling voice cracked with raw emotion on the final word that Felix finally yielded to your insistent tugging.

As soon as he gave way, your feet were in motion again. Together, you hurried through the building and emerged on the other side where your vehicles awaited. And you didn't even remember climbing onto the bike, but suddenly you were there, clinging to Felix for dear life as he revved the engine. With one last glance—first in the direction you had come, then down to you—he gritted his teeth and followed Chan’s lead.

As vehicles accelerated and sped off, your thoughts remained with Yeonjun and the others you had left behind. Fear transformed into guilt, a resounding guilt, that settled deep within your bones, intensifying further with every gunshot that pierced the night behind you.

You willed your eyes to remain open, determined to keep the trailing rover in your vision.

As the abandoned city dissolved into another terrifying nightmare, the memory of the first night you’d spent on the bike with Felix tugged at your heart. It left behind an ache that had you feeling like the foolish girl your father had called you once. Because that’s what you were—foolish, for allowing your feelings for Felix to develop in the way that they had.

Tonight’s close call had ripped away any illusion of control you thought you might’ve you had over your own emotions. If things had taken a different turn, if the guard had so much as twitched his ready finger and his loaded gun had fired against the back of Felix's head, would you have been able to deal with the aftermath? If you had lost Felix would you have been able to cope with the weight of his absence? To live with yourself after?

And what did it mean if you couldn’t?

You’d watched him shoot a man with raised hands tonight, and it should have frightened you—the ease with which he’d aimed the weapon and pulled the trigger. It was a stark reminder of the darkness that existed within him, but when his eyes met yours in that split second before he’d done it, they held an unmistakable air that his actions had been driven by a need to protect you. To protect you, and the rest of the boys, and so it only made you cling to him tighter. Because Felix didn’t need words to express that he was driven by a commitment to do whatever it took to ensure the safety of those he cared for—which you were now more than certain included yourself, too. A realization that left you torn between the undeniable feelings you had developed for him and the fear that you had crossed a line you were never meant to cross.

You couldn't escape the magnetic pull of his presence, yet you were acutely aware of the reality that hung over your heads. The circumstances, the world you inhabited, it was all designed to keep you apart. You knew it. He knew it. And not only did it force you to confront the painful truth that your relationship with Felix could never progress beyond its current state, it had you questioning whether or not your paths were even meant to cross in the first place.

It was an overwhelming thought, one that brought tears to your eyes for the second time that night.

When the first signs of dawn began to streak the sky above, Felix released his steady grip on the throttle. Chan caught up, and a signal passed between the two, prompting them to pull over nearby.

As the boys scrambled out of the vehicle, you caught sight of their expressions filled with shock and disbelief as they grappled with the weight of the close call. Chan raked his hands through his hair after his feet landed on the hard earth. “Too close, too fucking close,” he muttered, his words mirroring the thoughts in all of your minds.

Jisung dropped to the ground, Changbin tilted his head to the sky, Hyunjin leaned wearily against the rover, and Jeongin remained seated inside—gripping onto Seungmin as Minho examined his injured foot.

You stepped down from the motorcycle on unsteady legs, a residual effect of the adrenaline that had coursed through your veins during the escape. Felix dropped the bike with a loud thud, startling you when he spun around and placed his hands firmly on both of your shoulders. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Fuck, are you okay?” his words tumbled out in a rush, eyes darting up and down your figure.

You nodded frantically as your trembling hands peeled back the edges of his jacket to check for signs of injury. “Did you..A-Are you…” your voice shook, rendered speechless by the violent rush of emotions inside you.

When Felix spoke again it was barely above a whisper. “I’m okay," he reassured you, taking gentle hold of your hands to guide them away from his body. You searched your palms for any signs of blood but they were clean—they were clean, and yet the compulsion to keep checking for hidden wounds persisted.

“-Princess. I’m okay,” he repeated. And your actions drew the attention of the others but you paid no mind. As if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, you were suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to tell Felix everything that had been gnawing at the edges of your consciousness. Starting with the fact that you would have thrown away any chance at saving the world tonight in order to keep him safe. Because nothing in your life had made sense before Felix. And you were certain that if the world were to take him from you now, your spirit would turn restless inside your bones—cursed to wander forever in search of what you had lost.

“-What the fuck happened back there?!” your thoughts were interrupted by Chan, his voice yanking you back from the edge of vulnerability you were about to tumble over. “Hira wouldn’t have turned us in to those guards, I know she wouldn’t have,” he added, brows knitting together as he wrestled with his desire to comfort Jeongin and his responsibility to discover the truth about what had just taken place.

Felix swung his gaze around to meet Chan's. “Hira is dead,” he stated flatly. “And you’re right, she isn’t the one who turned us in. It was...Yeonjun," he gulped, hesitating at the mention of the orange-haired boy.

“What?” Chan stammered. “H-how...and Yeonjun? He saved our asses back there. Why would he do that if.."

Guilt.

Although he did not say it out loud, Felix was certain it was the reason. Because he saw it there tonight, unmistakably present in Yeonjun's eyes. And Felix knew all too well that, for some, the mere thought of a lifetime plagued by guilt after making the wrong decision could be far more terrifying than death itself.

“They shot Hira, before we even made it outside,” Hyunjin chimed in. “I just can't wrap my head around how Yeonjun managed to double-cross us. It makes no sense. He was with us the entire time.”

“-Until we went to sleep,” Changbin interjected. And the group fell silent. A thick, uncomfortable silence, broken only by soft muttering from Minho’s direction as he tended to Jeongin’s foot.

“So what, you think Yeonjun left to track down those guards after we went to sleep?” Jisung stood, joining the conversation. "How would he have known they were out there? We never told him we were running from them."

Chan's focus sharpened as he considered Jisung's words. “Felix..” he started, his tone cautious. “After we were separated from you and Hyunjin, how long was it before Yeonjun found you?”

"I dont know, maybe an hour?" Felix replied.

“What if Yeonjun came across the guards during that time?" Chan's voice was steady as he held the group's attention. "What if after Yeonjun left us with Hira, he was confronted by the guards? What if they threatened him and coerced him into admitting that he had seen us and knew where we were headed? Then they released him to find you two. He eventually brought you back to Clé, and they tracked his movement, waiting until nightfall to-”

"-Wait a minute,” Hyunjin asserted. “Now that I think about it, Yeonjun was acting a bit strangely on the way to Cle. And maybe you would’ve realized it too, Felix, if you weren't so preoccupied with.." as he trailed off, Hyunjin's dark eyes met with yours, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He looked as if he had more to say, but before he could continue, he was interrupted by a sharp cry of pain from Jeongin.

The boys immediately abandoned the conversation, rushing to the side of the vehicle. You shifted on your feet, hesitating to join them because on some level, even after everything that had happened tonight, you still felt like an outsider.

Sensing your reluctance, Felix turned and met your eyes with a wordless invitation that urged you to come closer. Drawn by the invisible thread that seemed to connect the two of you, you positioned yourself between him and Jisung. As you stood between them, you couldn't help but notice how Felix shifted just a fraction closer to you. And although he kept his focus on Jeongin, you soon felt the gentle pressure of his shoulder against yours.

Inside the vehicle, Minho's inner conflict played out across his features. His gaze shifted rapidly between Jeongin's pale face and the sliver of glass firmly lodged in the sole of his shoe. “I can't just leave it embedded,” he voiced his concern aloud, directed at no one in particular. "It could lead to infection..I just can’t tell how deep its gone..”

Seungmin’s expression grew more strained as Jeongin squirmed uncomfortably in his arms. “What if you make it worse by trying to take it out?”

“We don’t really have a choice,” Minho responded, his medical instincts wrestling with the reality of your limited resources.

Chan’s fingers tapped an anxious rhythm against the side of the vehicle. "We should at least try to sterilize the area to buy us some time."

“Time for what? Everything we have is here,” Minho snapped, whipping around to face Chan as he gestured to the surrounding bags of supplies.

Next to Chan, Hyunjin's expression furrowed as he glanced from Minho to Jeongin. “We aren't that far from Yellow Wood. We could go back, let it heal, and try again for Miroh when-”

“-If we sit still for too long now, they'll find us,” Minho stressed. “Besides, if we can actually make it to Miroh there might be medical supplies there that aren’t shit. But getting there will take days, and we can’t afford to leave it untreated for that long,” he added.

“T-take it out,” Jeongin whimpered, "Please, I can handle it." His gaze shifted across the faces of each of the boys, his trust in them evident even despite his pain. And when his eyes landed on you, your chest ached with the realization that he looked at you in the exact same way, with the same level of trust.

Chan leaned into the rover, placing his hand gently on Jeongin's shoulder where he offered a reassuring squeeze. "We're going to take care of you, okay? Just hang in there." His gaze shifted to Minho and a wordless exchange passed between them as the rest of the group shifted even closer, forming a tight circle around the vehicle.

As the boys began to offer their own words of encouragement, Minho glanced up, his piercing eyes locking hold of yours. “You. You have some medical training right?”

“Dude she has a name..” Jisung grumbled from beside you.

Minho shot him an irritated glance, clearing his throat before addressing you again. “y/n,” he pronounced your name with a sour undertone, as if it left an unpleasant taste on his tongue. "Do you or do you not have any medical training?”

He wasn't wrong to assume you would, given your background. Your father had always prioritized combat skills over healing, but you'd been given a fair share of private medical lessons too. And even if it was a limited amount, your knowledge of the subject undoubtedly surpassed that of any of the other boys.

Eager to help Jeongin in any way you could, you nodded. Minho motioned for you to join him inside the vehicle, and the protective glare that Felix shot his way gave you a much needed boost of confidence as you sat down beside him.

Minho gave you a brief rundown of what he needed, his instructions clear and concise. In preparation, he handed Jeongin something to bite down on. And as he began, you couldn't help but admire the way his practiced hands moved.

As the wound became more apparent, you felt a slight twinge of unease. The quantity of blood was surprising, but upon closer inspection, you were relieved to find that the glass hadn't gone nearly as deep as you'd anticipated.

Jeongin's face contorted in pain as it was carefully extracted from the thin sole of his shoe and, subsequently, his foot. You worked in tandem with Minho, assisting with whatever you could, and the collective breath held by the group seemed to release in sync with the shard's removal. Minho held it up, allowing it to shimmer in the morning light before setting it aside.

As he moved on to stitch up the wound, the process felt excruciatingly slow. Your attention shifted back to Jeongin, cradled securely in Seungmin's hold, and you couldn't help but notice the way his hands clenched and unclenched against the seat beneath him. Without thinking, you reached to take the hand that was closest to you. His fingers relaxed as they laced with yours, and you could feel the warmth of his gratitude when he briefly opened his eyes to meet your own.

When you glanced up to Seungmin, he gave you a soft nod of approval over Jeongin’s shoulder.

After Minho had finished stitching the wound, the boys' attention gradually began to shift toward their next steps, driven by a shared sense of relief now that Jeongin's discomfort had been temporarily eased.

You remained fully absorbed in helping Minho clean up—so focused that you barely caught the murmured "thank you," that came from where he sat beside you. You paused, convinced you hadn’t heard him correctly, until he added in a slightly louder tone, "You have a steady hand, y/n. You'd make a good medic."

Taken aback by his sudden appreciation, your eyes followed him as he stood. "Anybody seen any water?" he asked, scanning the vehicle's interior. Changbin handed him a canteen, which he promptly passed over to Jeongin.

After ensuring that Jeongin was as comfortable as possible, with the unexpected compliment from Minho still ringing in your ears, you stepped down from the rover.

Your eyes immediately found Felix, leaned against the vehicle with a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. He took a step, but before he could close the distance between you, Jisung was at your side. “Nicely done, District nine. I knew you’d come in handy,” he grinned, giving you a solid pat to the back.

And then it was Chan’s turn to steal your attention. "y/n can you come look at this?" You swiveled around and he motioned for you to join him and Changbin where they had the map spread out across the hood of the rover.

When you turned back to Felix you found Hyunjin at his side, effectively blocking your view. With a small, resigned exhale through your nose, you made your way over to stand beside Changbin.

Chan asked for your help in determining the best route to take to get back on track—where your father’s guards would be less likely to follow. After thorough examination of the map, and a collaborative discussion between the three of you—with the occasional interjection from Minho—you reached a consensus.

After what had happened last night, crossing into more challenging terrain was deemed well worth the risk by all of you. And so the decision to alter your route was unanimous. You would head in the direction of a mountainous region that spanned across District 5, as it would make tracking your movements far more difficult.

With a plan in place, you glanced back at the motorcycle where Felix was now seated, tying his hair back.

He looked up as you approached. "You sure you don't want to go with them instead?” he asked, nudging his head in the direction of the rover. “You can sleep in the truck," he added.

You ignored his suggestion, making your choice known when you swung a leg over the bike and settled down behind him. You drew him closer, gently wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m not tired, and i don’t plan on going anywhere,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

"But-" Felix began to protest. He turned to face you, but the words caught in his throat when you leaned in at the same time—your closeness catching him off guard.

“Just drive, Lix.” Your voice was soft, a murmured exhale against his lips. And you looked up to meet his eyes before pulling back to settle into his form.

A pink blush crept up to his ears as he twisted around, glancing over his other shoulder to where the boys had piled into the rover a few feet away. “Yeah, right.." he stammered, eyes following the rover when it took off from your side, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. And a faint smile crossed your lips as Felix cleared his throat before manipulating the throttle and setting the bike into motion once again.

After several hours of uninterrupted travel, muted rays of buttery light filtered in through the clouds above as the sun began to set. The ground beneath you was etched with crevices and jutting stones, creating a labyrinth of rocky terrain that stretched on endlessly.

In the dying light, you found yourselves in search of shelter once again. Not necessarily because you couldn't keep moving at night—if anything you thought it would be smarter to travel under the cover of darkness—but every single one of you was beyond exhausted, and it showed.

It showed in the subtle swerve of the motorcycle when Felix's head dipped, snapping back up when you called his name. It showed in each set of drooping shoulders and even in the gradual slow of the vehicles, as if they too were struggling to keep up the pace.

On that particular evening, luck seemed to be on your side when you came upon a cave nestled snugly between a cluster of natural rock formations. With the vehicles secured just outside the entrance, the group collectively made their way inside.

Upon entering the cave, you were greeted by a cool, refreshing environment, a stark contrast to the toxic haze that loomed over District 6. Flashlights flickered on one-by-one, casting their light upon the walls to reveal a spacious chamber. Felix and Chan immediately set about the task of creating a fire and it wasn't long before the flames began to dance and crackle before their eyes. At the other end of the space, the uneven ground converged into a single pathway that drew your attention and you watched as Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jisung gravitated toward it.

Beckoned by your own curiosity, you glanced back to Chan who shot you an inquisitive look before tossing you his flashlight. "Don't go too far, yeah?" he cautioned, and you nodded in agreement.

Trailing the boys, you sensed the familiar weight of a pair of eyes on your back, following your every move until you slipped out of sight.

The narrow passage came alive with rhythmic footsteps and the occasional murmur from up ahead, mostly Jisung. The sound of trickling water drew your attention and around the corner, a sudden widening revealed an open area where the rocky floor dipped down into a large basin, filled with crystal-clear water. It was a miniature oasis of sorts, a natural spring lit by glowing blue bioluminescence that lie nestled within the depths of the cave. The water's surface sparkled beneath a crevice in the ceiling through which you could see the moon.

The boys rushed forward, cupping their hands to sip the cool water, splashing it across their faces and arms. When you bent down to fill a canteen from your backpack, you were caught off guard by the sudden sight of your reflection in the water’s rippling surface.

A layered film of dirt and sweat clung to your skin, deep shadows had formed underneath your sunken eyes, and your once-tamed hair was now in complete disarray. It would have been a harrowing sight for anyone from District 9 to see themselves in such a state, and yet, oddly enough, you liked the way you looked like this. A raw version of your former polished self, without the vibrant makeup and suffocating clothing that had always left your skin feeling itchy and irritated. Stripped of the insincere smile you had been forced to wear throughout your life, you looked like you. A bit worn out, sure. But you embraced it wholeheartedly because it was the first time you truly felt as if you belonged among the boys.

As your eyes swept back and forth, another presence began to emerge from your appearance—your father. Subtly etched into the lines of your face, the shape of your nose, the color of your eyes—almost as if your own features were mocking your attempts to distance yourself from him. Because he was there, and he always would be. You could run from him as much as you liked, forever even, but you would never be able to escape your own reflection.

When the boys stood, you did the same, gaze lingering on the water's surface for a last second. Turning to leave, you were surprised to find Jisung waiting a short distance away. The blue tint cast a beautiful glow against his face, accentuating the gentle curve of his cheeks and the warmth in his eyes. The metal piercing in his eyebrow glinted in the faint light. "We can stay a bit longer, if you'd like," he offered.

There was an attractive sincerity about Jisung that had always intrigued you, but your eagerness to leave behind your reflection overpowered the allure. With a subtle shake of your head, you let out a small “’s okay," followed by a tender smile which he returned.

You moved at a slow pace, shoulder to shoulder, guided by the light from your flashlights as you winded back through the passage. Jisung kicked a pebble, and your eyes followed its movement. After a subtle clearing of his throat, he eventually broke the silence. "It was really cool, what you did for Jeongin earlier.”

You shrugged, inadvertently meeting his eyes. "I didn't do much...just followed what Minho told me."

Jisung responded without hesitation. "Yeah, but I know it means a lot to Jeongin. And to Minho, to finally have someone who knows what they’re doing that can help him."

"Does it? Because I think he kind of hates me.." your brows knitted together, and a gentle smile tugged at Jisung's lips.

"Minho doesn't hate you, he's just cautious," he said, returning his gaze back to the path ahead. “And I know he might come off as distant, but there's more to him beneath the surface."

Beneath the surface.

You were no stranger to what lay beneath that surface. Because your connection to Minho existed whether either of you wanted it to or not, born from the shared roots of District 9. And along with it came a shared understanding of a part of the world that, out of the nine of you, only you two could truly comprehend.

“Just give him some time, he’ll come around,” Jisung continued, accompanied by a sympathetic smile.

"Thanks, Ji. I really hope you're right.”

As soon as the nickname escaped your lips, Jisung’s expression dropped. A range emotions crossed his features. His eyes held yours for a moment, and within them you detected profound longing, tinged with traces of sorrow and grief. Unspoken, but undeniably present.

"Ji," he chuckled softly, a sad sound. "No one's called me that in a really long time."

"Well it suits you," you offered, scanning his face.

His eyes took on a glossy sheen, and his lips curled up into something bittersweet. "Yeah, I guess it does," he replied. After a moment, he blinked away the emotion and shifted the conversation. “So..want to tell me what the hell's been going on between you and Felix?"

Your foot caught suddenly on a rock, and you reached out instinctively for Jisung to steady yourself as heat flooded your cheeks. "I-uh..what about us?" Your gaze nervously darted away as you stumbled over your words.

A wistful grin tugged at the corner of Jisung’s lips. "Come on, I'm not blind. I've noticed things, you know? Subtle glances..the way he looks at you."

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you questioned, recalling when Chan had told you the very same thing in the forest outside of Yellow Wood.

I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Never. Not anyone.

Jisung chuckled lightly in response. "Well, usually when everyone notices the same thing, it means there's some truth to it," he mused.

"Or maybe everyone's just reading too much into it."

"Whatever you say," Jisung shrugged. "I guess we’re just not used to Felix looking at anyone in a way that doesn't suggest he wants them dead. Usually he's..Well by now I'm sure you know how he is."

"Yeah," you affirmed, "I know how he is. The second time we ever spoke was while he had a knife pressed to my throat."

“He what?"

"Long story," you said. Although, in reality, the story was actually quite simple. And you'd never held it against Felix. After all, what else was he supposed to do when he'd come face to face with the daughter of the man who wanted nothing more than to see all of them dead.

"That reminds me," Jisung started, twisting the flashlight around in his hand. "I always wondered how you guys met.”

"He didn't tell you?"

Jisung shook his head vigorously in response. "Let's just say every time one of us would bring it up he'd turn bright red and shut down the conversation immediately, usually by fleeing to the rooftop."

You laughed at the mental image of Felix escaping in embarrassment whenever the topic of your first meeting was raised. "I guess it is a bit complicated.”

"You know..someone told me once that sometimes things are complicated because we're afraid of what's simple," Jisung replied.

You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you considered his words. A comfortable silence settled between you, and you didn’t feel the need to respond.

The conversation concluded as you returned to camp. Felix looked up immediately upon your arrival, his eyes briefly meeting yours before glancing away. "See what I mean?"Jisung leaned over to whisper into your ear. A knowing smile tugged at his lips, and he winked at you before his steps carried him away from your side.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you walked over to Jeongin and offered him the canteen you had filled with water from the spring. His face brightened, although the weariness remained etched into his features. After taking a few generous gulps, he returned the canteen and nestled closer to Minho's side. The older boy's presence seemed to provide him with a sense of security as his eyelids drooped and he drifted off to sleep.

Across the fire, the rest of the boys rummaged through a sizable bag of supplies in search of anything to alleviate their hunger for the night. You found a quiet spot to claim for yourself. Sinking down against the cavern wall, you brought your legs upward as hushed chatter began to fill the chamber.

Felix couldn't help but steal a few glances in your direction as he tended to the fire. A sharp pang of jealousy resonated throughout him when he watched the way your eyes followed Jisung's reaction to something Changbin said, a wide smile forming on your lips in response to his infectious laughter. Felix didn't need to wonder what you thought of Jisung. Of course you liked him, it was impossible not to. And he couldn't even blame you for it because it was only natural that someone like you would be drawn to someone like Jisung.

After the group had eaten and settled in around the fire, Chan took the opportunity to share his first memory of Hira. He depicted her as a neutral force—neither entirely good nor entirely corrupt—but someone whom, for whatever reason, he'd always felt that he could trust.

When he'd finished, Chan passed the conversation to Jisung who proceeded to share a story about a mishap he and Seungmin encountered last winter, during a supply run in the same abandoned city you'd crossed through last night. The story involved a ridiculous chase through the streets, with Jisung somehow ending up as the hero. But Seungmin couldn't resist chiming in. "Hold on, hold on," he raised a hand with a sly grin, "Let's be real, less than half of that actually happened.”

Jisung responded with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, a playful retort forming on his lips as he prepared to continue the banter. Before he could, Felix chimed in. "Making things up again, Han? This sounds a lot like the time we all found out you can't actually tell edible plants from poisonous ones,” he teased. His eyes shimmered in the firelight, and when he smirked you couldn't help but appreciate the way it accentuated his canines.

Jisung let out an exasperated gasp. "I told you I was still learning!”

"I threw up for a week straight after you insisted it was safe to eat those purple berries! I thought I was going to die!" Seungmin exclaimed, failing to control his laughter.

Jisung threw his hands up in defeat. “Who even needs to know which plants are safe to eat when you can just charm your way into getting free supplies?" A sly grin fell across his lips but it vanished when Changbin added, “That only happened once, and wasn't it Hyunjin that actually did the talking? Pretty sure you just stared at your feet the whole time because you couldn't even make eye contact with the girl.”

Changbin’s response elicited chuckles from the entire room, yourself included. With a dramatic huff, Jisung turned and lie down on his side with his back to the group. He feigned annoyance, but was unable to hide his own amusement as his shoulders shook with gentle laughter.

After the excitement died down, Minho's soft-spoken voice broke the silence. He recalled a late night conversation with Jeongin not too long ago that had unexpectedly evolved into a heart-to-heart about their shared fears. When he was finished, he glanced down in fondness at the sleeping boy nestled against his side.

You leaned your head against the rock, allowing your eyes to close as Hyunjin began to share about a distant memory that involved his mother, with whom he'd spent some time in a cave like the one you found yourselves in now—before they had gotten separated. As he spoke, you tried your hardest to recall just one single memory of your own mother, but you were unable to move past a particular phrase that continued to linger in your thoughts.

You look just like her.

And then it hit you. A sudden blow, like a dagger straight to the heart.

What if Hira hadn't been speaking in general terms, about a woman from her past that you resembled.

What if she had been referring to your mother.

Your eyes snapped open and your posture straightened away from the wall as you tried to put it all together in your mind. You'd stopped asking questions about your mother a very long time ago, due to the anger that rose within your father at the faintest mention of her. He refused to speak about her, and so you had created a simplified narrative of your own—that she had been plucked from the residents of District 9 to marry your father for her social standing and wealth. But what if there was more to her, and your own origins, than you had ever thought possible.

Felix, who had been lying with his hands behind his head a short distance away, picked up on the change in your demeanor. Concern flickered in his eyes as he sat up.

"Hey, you good?" Chan's voice echoed from across the room as you realized that the rest of the group had fallen silent, their attention now fixed on you.

You managed a soft smile in an attempt to mask the intensity of your thoughts. "Yeah..just tired."

"Maybe its time we all get some rest," Chan responded.

As his suggestion was met with a general consensus of agreement from the group you cast a glance back at Felix. The fire's dwindling glow traced his features with delicate strokes, accentuating the furrow between his brow and the subtle tension in his jaw, before the flames were extinguished by Chan.

Ten minutes, twenty, an hour.

You tossed and turned repeatedly as restlessness consumed your mind, preventing you from succumbing to the fatigue that gripped your aching muscles. When soft snores began to fill the darkness, envy stirred within you at the boys' ability to find solace.

Maybe they were just desensitized to it all—the constant brushes with death, the daily ritual of having to bury their fears again each morning when they woke. Maybe with time you would grow used to it too. But tonight, the weight of it all, combined with the mystery surrounding Hira's final message had left you without any chance at falling asleep.

And although you didn't want to admit it, the notion slowly crept into your mind that the only reason you had gotten any sleep at all the past few nights was because of Felix. Especially last night—his steady heartbeat, protective embrace, and the comforting warmth of his body heat lulling you into a sense of security.

Maybe he wouldn't notice if you inched a bit closer..Just so you could manage a few hours..

A frustrated sound escaped your lips as you banished the thought, because it wasn’t fair to rely on Felix to chase away the darkness when you couldn't bear to face it alone. He had his own battles to fight, his own burdens to carry, and if he was going to drive the motorcycle then he probably needed the sleep more than you anyway.

Your eyes failed to adjust to the darkness when you sat up. Cut off from any sense of place and time, the air around you suddenly felt so thin, so scarce, making it difficult to draw in a steady breath. Your skin prickled as if tiny insects had begun to dig their way into your flesh, and you couldn't get it out of your head.

All of it.

Your mother, nothing but the faded memory of a woman with a face you hadn't known long enough to remember. Your father, with a face you would never forget, because it chased you in your own reflection. Hira's lifeless stare, empty and cold. The knowing look in Yeonjun's eyes when you left him behind to die. And Felix, who, even with a loaded gun pressed against his head looked to you as if your safety would always be far more important to him than his own.

“It gets easier with time."

You jolted, startled by a sudden voice that broke the silence.

“Falling asleep, I mean. It gets easier with time,” he repeated. His tone a calm and steady contrast to the turmoil in your mind.

"Then why are you still awake?" you remarked, lowering your voice to a whisper to keep from disturbing the sleeping boys around you.

Felix let out a soft sigh. His gentle breath mingled with the darkness that enveloped you both, and you sensed movement as he sat up somewhere close by.

“I didn’t say it gets easy, just easier. Besides..” he paused, a long pause. Hoping you wouldn’t be able to sense the struggle he faced to keep his emotions in check. "How am i supposed to sleep when you're breathing so heavily…it's distracting," he finally settled on. And you couldn't help but scoff at his feeble attempt at masking whatever it was that he actually wanted to say.

As the silence stretched on, the uncomfortable sensation of needing to escape your own skin grew unbearable, driving you to your feet.

"Where are you-"

"-The dirt, the sweat, the blood, I need to get it off. I just need to get it off." Without waiting for a response, you fumbled through the darkness. Your fingers met the coarse stone wall at your side, and you trailed along it as soft footsteps began to echo from somewhere behind you.

Cool mist fell against your skin as pitch-black was steadily replaced by calming blue. In the soft ethereal glow, you stepped over to the waters edge where you lifted your shirt and slipped out of your pants. All the while, your senses were acutely aware of Felix's presence behind you, his watchful eyes glued to your backside. He could have chosen to let you wander off alone, but some part of you knew he couldn't resist. And selfishly, you liked that.

When you entered the water it rippled around your waist. The coldness sent shivers throughout your body, but it was invigorating. A welcome sensation against skin that seemed to burn tonight. You took a deep breath, letting the weight of the past twenty four hours wash away when you submerged yourself beneath the surface. The water welcomed you into a desensitizing embrace and for a moment, only as long as you could hold your breath, the unpleasant images in your mind and your fears surrounding the war outside were replaced by complete and utter silence. Nothing at all.

You resurfaced facing Felix. His eyes trailed up and down your half naked form, lingering a bit too long on the places his hands always went first. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized that he was approaching. When he lifted his shirt, you couldn't help but take the opportunity to glance over the contours of his sculpted abdomen. He let himself down into the water and the soft splashes of his movements filled the silence between you.

“Maybe you should just…stay over there," you mumbled, averting your gaze from his chest.

You wanted him close, that you couldn't deny. But hours had passed since last night, and your panic had since died down—giving way to frustration once more. And it wasn't even about him nearly losing his life, it was about how that near-loss had stirred a depth of emotion within you that you could no longer control. You were frustrated with him for almost getting killed again, something that (this time) he'd had absolutely no control over. But you were even more frustrated with yourself for letting it affect you in the way that it had.

Felix raised his hands defensively, abiding by your demand to keep some distance. When he sank down into the water, the tips of his hair skimmed the surface.

"Princess..you alright?" his sudden inquiry caught you off guard. It was his tone, laced with genuine concern, that caused your heart to pound beneath the surface of your calm exterior.

No, I'm not alright.

Nothing about what happened last night is alright, you thought.

"Yeah, I'm managing," you said.

His lips curved upward, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Managing, huh? Guess you’re tougher than you look."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your own features when you responded. “And you? What about you?"

"I've been through worse,” he trailed off. A veil of shadows fell over his features and suddenly, Felix felt miles away. Worlds apart, as if he had been transported to some distant realm of memories that he would have given anything to forget.

“Chan told me a little..what you’ve been through is more than most people could handle, you know?” you hesitated, questioning if it was the right decision to acknowledge your awareness of his past. But the divide between you had always felt easy to bridge in moments like this, when it was just the two of you. Sometimes leading you to forget that it had even existed at all.

"He shouldn't have said-"

"-But I'm glad he did," you interrupted. "And I might not understand it all but I do know know that none of it is your fault, Felix."

Felix let out a bitter scoff, a defensive edge to his tone when he responded. “You don't know anything,” his eyes flickered back to you, and in them you saw a glimpse of the pain he carried beneath. When you took a step forward he retreated with a single stroke of his arms in the water—a reflexive withdrawal.

And then he sighed heavily, noting the subtle trace of hurt in your expression at his retreat. "I'm sorry..it's just..thinking about it, talking about it, its not easy for me."

“It’s okay,” you offered, making a conscious effort to ignore the compulsion to reach out and wrap him in your arms. To reassure him over and over again that he didn’t deserve the things he had been through. To make it clear that, in your eyes, Felix would never be to blame for his past.

Felix cleared his throat, his desire to avoid the subject prompting him to redirect the conversation. “What was that earlier with you? Around the fire."

Unsure of how much to reveal, you hesitated again, mindlessly tracing shapes on the surface of the water. "I think..there might be the possibility of a connection between my mother..and..Hira.”

Felix's expression transformed as he scanned your face in bewilderment. “What? What kind of connection?"

“Hira said I looked just like 'her', Felix, and I don't know why but I can't shake the feeling that she was talking about my mother."

"You think Hira knew your mother?” his mouth fell open, he looked at you as though you had completely and utterly lost your mind, and you really couldn't blame him.

“You heard her, you saw the way she looked at me," you pressed.

“Look, princess,” he insisted, drawn closer when he noticed the trace of sadness in your eyes at the mention of your mother. “I know Chan talks about her like she was a saint, but the woman was a lunatic. She didn't have any idea what she was talking about half the time, so don’t overthink it. Hira dealt with people from the outer districts, and she never went to District nine herself. It’s impossible.”

"Yeah..you're probably right." Mimicking his earlier movement, you lowered yourself in the water until it enveloped your shoulders.

After a moment you drew in a breath. When you went to speak, Felix did the same. Your words collided in the narrow space between you, and he chuckled softly, a warm sound that filled your ears. “You first,” he said.

"Today was..” you paused to recollect your thoughts, pursing your lips in concentration.

“I know,” he sighed. “It was a close call. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Yes we do,” you asserted. “We should. I don’t know how any of you do this. Its like one minute everything’s fine and the next.." you let out a frustrated exhale before continuing, “And then they're just able to sleep like nothing happened?! Its like you’re all fearless.”

Felix's lips quirked into a small, sympathetic smile as he inched closer. “Fearless? Nah, its just survival, princess. You get used to it, you learn to move forward." His voice lowered before he added, "Even when you’re afraid.”

As you considered his words, you found yourself studying his eyes in search of a glimpse of his inner thoughts. Had Felix felt fear today when he was leading the chase from the guards? When Jeongin was injured? When the cold metal of the gun touched his skin?

“I wish I had that kind of strength,” you admitted.

“You’ve got your own kind of strength," he began. “You're here aren't you? And you had no problem revealing yourself to those guards last night. Why did you do that?"

You felt your cheeks warm as you looked down, gliding your hands through the water. "Isn't it obvious?" When he didn't respond, you sighed, glancing up to meet his eyes again. “I just thought that maybe it would buy all of you a chance at making it out of there alive."

"Exactly. And every single one of them recognizes that,” he stated, nudging his head in the direction of the passage that led back to the sleeping boys.

“But it still doesn't mean they trust me, right? Still doesn't guarantee that they ever will?" you returned, raising a single eyebrow.

Felix rolled his eyes, and when they reconnected with yours you held his stare, narrowing your gaze. "I shouldn't have said that," he muttered.

Felix was incredibly difficult to read, most of the time, but something about the sincerity in his tone and the pause in his speech made you believe that he really did regret what he’d said that night in Yellow Wood, about how the others might never trust you.

"No, you shouldn't have. But it’s okay." You shifted closer, and with the distance between you now almost nonexistent, even the atmosphere felt alive—charged with pulsing energy, as the water flowed like an electric current between you, prompting you to reach up and drape your arms around his neck.

As if your actions had given him permission, his own hands instantly found their way to your waist. Your legs lifted to wrap around him and the water responded with soothing ripples around your bodies.

With you in his arms, Felix stood. He waded backward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the spring where he settled down against a makeshift seat embedded within the natural contours of the rock.

Straddling his waist, you brushed the hair from his neck and laid your head down in its place. Splaying a hand against his chest, you felt for the steady strength of his heartbeat beneath your palm. And you stayed like that for quite some time, drifting in and out of a light sleep as he traced idle shapes across your back.

After a while, your eyes fluttered open. “Lix?”

“Yeah?” his voice was a low murmur in your ear, soft and attentive.

“Promise me something?” you breathed.

Anything, he thought.

“What is it?” he said.

"Promise me you’ll try to be more careful from now on? Because..I don't think I could handle it..if..” you lifted your head from his shoulder as the words hung between you like a fragile, fragile thread. The confession was like a heated blade in your throat, searing it raw, and you let it burn. Because you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that followed, paralyzed once again by the weight of your unspoken feelings.

But you didn't need to say anything further, because to Felix, it was obvious what you were implying.

I need you.

Your words from last night echoed in his mind. He remembered how desperate you sounded, how you'd pulled him with you as if your life depended on it.

He searched your face in a desperate attempt to understand how someone like you could ever be so concerned with the safety of someone like him. And he wondered if it was because, perhaps, you still couldn't see it—the stains of the choices he had made, etched into his soul. He wondered if he had allowed himself to become too wrapped up in his own feelings, creating a version of himself in your eyes that was far more forgiving than the truth.

When silence between you grew, his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to speak.

In another life, one in which Felix saw himself differently, he would have promised to be by your side for as long as you wanted him there. He would’ve kissed you deeply, and he never would have let you go.

In another life, it might have been the moment Felix realized that he was meant to love you.

But in this life, in this harsh reality, a silent battle raged on inside Felix—torn between his selfish desire for you and the instincts that kept him alive. He knew he couldn't promise you a life without danger, and he certainly couldn't guarantee you his survival. But goddammit Felix wanted nothing more than to swear that he would do everything in his power to try and stay alive. For you.

Overwhelmed by his feelings, your close proximity, and the fact that last night he had been come closer to death than he had in a very long time, Felix surrendered to that powerful, selfish desire.

"Yeah-" the word caught in his throat, as if he was afraid of what came next. Cupping your face with one of his hands, he added, "I promise.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, embracing the warmth of his palm against your skin and the reassurance in his grip.

"Besides," you started. “You can’t leave me alone with them. I'm pretty sure Minho and Hyunjin would plot to kill me in my sleep or something.” A soft giggle escaped your lips, and Felix couldn't help the wide, toothy grin that spread across his face at your attempt to lighten the mood.

“Please, Jisung would never let them,” he returned. And your raised eyebrows prompted him to continue. "I'm serious, in fact Jisung would probably prefer to have you all to himself," he insisted. And then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, Felix gave a sudden squeeze to your ass with both hands that caused your eyes to widen.

"Oh really? Is that so?" Your fingers lightly traced a pattern on his bare chest as he hummed in agreement. "I don't know..maybe I should ask him myself just to be sure. You think he'd like to join us?" With a teasing smirk, you released your hold on Felix, stepping back down into the water and turning to face the direction you'd come from. Cupping your hands around your mouth, you began to call out "JI-"

"-Shhhh," the water splashed when Felix lunged forward. His arms encircled you from behind, grazing the underside of your breasts as he captured you in a sudden embrace. And a squeal escaped your lips when he pulled you with him beneath the water's surface. Coming up for air, you retaliated with a splash that sent a wave of water in his direction. His laughter echoed off the walls, deep and genuine. It was a sound you hadn't heard before, and yet, it felt as if you had been craving it for a lifetime. Soft crinkles formed around his eyes, and you wove another precious memory of the freckled boy into your mind.

Felix shook the water from his hair before catching you again. Your arms naturally reclaimed their place around his neck, your legs came back up to wrap around his waist, and the water rippled around your shoulders.

As you held each others eyes, his amusement gradually gave way to a more thoughtful expression.

“You know," he began, "Jisung..he uh..lost someone once. I think that’s why he’s like that with you, I think you remind him of her."

His words carried solemn weight, offering a touch of insight into why Jisung had trusted you from the very beginning. And a simple “Oh” was all you could manage in response, your heart breaking at the thought of Jisung carrying such pain beneath his hopeful, kindhearted exterior.

“But he’s better now, he's come a long way since then, mostly thanks to Minho,” he added. His expression revealed the traces of another painful memory, before he willed it away.

With you still in his arms, Felix reclaimed his spot against the edge of the spring. Perched just above the water's surface with his back supported by the rock and his legs dipping into the soothing water.

And while you considered his disclosure about Jisung's past, you realized that you had never truly known loss. You had forgotten your mother—had no memories of her touch, her scent, the sound of her voice—and because you had never really known her it had been a relatively easy loss, if any ever was.

You had lost Jisoo, but it was a different kind of loss—a choice you had willingly made that you hoped you would come to forgive yourself for some today.

But the mere thought of being forced to lose the boy with the stars in his eyes was crippling. You couldn't bear the thought of those stars fading away, because he looked to you like you were the one that had put them there. And it terrified you that some day he would pay the ultimate price for it, leaving you behind to grapple with a new kind of loss that you weren't sure you would have the strength to overcome.

"What?" Felix said, catching the intensity in your eyes as your fingers reached to play with the hair at the back of his neck.

“You almost died today," you stated. "For real this time."

His expression furrowed, and a gentle crease appeared on his forehead before gradually easing away. "Well..yeah," he shrugged, "I'm still here, though."

Here. With you.

You shifted underneath his stare, trying to reach a more comfortable position. Your hands found their way to one of his, guiding it to rest in your lap where you played with his rings absentmindedly.

Sensing your restlessness, Felix gently ceased the movement of your hands when he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you blurted. “And I'm scared, Felix. I'm scared that I’m too weak to handle it. That its going to get all of you killed.”

Felix frowned slightly before drawing you closer. “We all have weaknesses, princess," his eyes fell briefly to your lips before continuing. “Chan wants to save the whole goddamned world, and he gets so wrapped up in it that he forgets to take care of himself, too. Han—Jisung, I mean, trusts too easily. And Minho doesn’t trust enough, even when he should. Changbin is reckless as hell, if you think I’m bad, you should've seen him when we first met. Jeongin doesn’t want to hurt anyone, so he hesitates in situations where it puts his life at risk. And Seungmin is too damn smart for his own good, and he knows it, so his confidence gets the best of him sometimes."

He shook his head and you brought a hand up to swipe the stray droplets of water that fell down onto his cheeks, fingertips mapping out the constellations painted underneath. He closed his eyes in response, tilting his head as he welcomed your touch.

A brief, heart-pounding silence hung between you before you dared to speak again. “What about you, Felix? What’s your weakness?”

The freckled boy tensed beneath you. His jaw clenched, and for a long time he held his silence. Just when you began to brace yourself for the possibility that he might not respond, his eyelids gently lifted. His hands rose to cup your face, one of his thumbs traced your upper lip, and in another life you would have stopped him from saying the words that followed.

“You, princess. My weakness is you.”

You blinked, opening your mouth just to close it again. When Felix leaned in closer, you turned your head, causing his lips to lightly graze along the side of your jaw. "I thought I'd already be dead, if it were up to you," you mumbled.

“I shouldn't have said that..either," he stated. And when he pulled back to meet your gaze, there was a familiar intensity in his eyes. Felix looked to you like he did every time he wanted to fuck you, but there was more behind it now.

"You did say it, though. You said it, and you meant it," you pressed.

But you were wrong.

And it was driving Felix insane.

Because he was well aware of the simple fact that he should have meant it. That it should have been easy for him to hate you. After all, he'd never had a problem directing his disdain toward the world and its inhabitants. But there was something that stopped him from casting that hatred upon you. No matter how hard he tried.

"I wanted to mean it," he breathed.

And it was on that night, sheltered deep within a cave on the outskirts of District 6, that you realized what the others had meant when they spoke about the way Felix looked at you. As his deep brown eyes bore into your soul, they spoke volumes about the complexity of his feelings, far more than words ever could. That night, your feelings intertwined with his, and you did nothing to stop it. Shared vulnerability bled into deep affection and for the first time you chose to overlook the danger that came with it.

“Its driving me crazy, pretending I’m okay every time you get hurt. You do realize that, right?” you exhaled, reaching for the fading red handprints on his neck. But Felix intercepted your hand before it could make contact with his skin. Bringing it up to his lips, he kissed it softly.

“I’m sorry," he leaned in to press another open kiss your shoulder. It was gentle, it felt good, so you let him.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” his warm hands trailed up and down your back, chasing away the chill that had settled over your body, so you let them.

Felix knew he wasn’t good for you. He knew you deserved someone like Jisung, who would be able to bring out the best in you without even trying. Someone like Chan who you could grow with. Or Minho, who would challenge you to reach your full potential. But Felix was none of those things. Instead, he was selfish. Selfish, and pathetic, and cruel. And despite the fact that he knew it, despite the fact that he hated himself for it, he just couldn’t help the feeling he got every single time you looked at him like he was the only one you wanted.

Felix hated every part of himself, except for you.

"Tell me we shouldn’t do this,” you kissed him. A gentle kiss, pressed lightly to his bottom lip.

"We shouldn't," he exhaled against your lips.

"Tell me you mean it," you pleaded.

"I can't," is all he said.

And it was all you needed to hear.

You met his lips again and Felix eagerly fell into the kiss. He slid his tongue in your mouth and swiped it against yours, causing a breathy moan to escape you. His hands wandered up your sides where he squeezed lightly. Your teeth clashed, and when you pulled away for a breath he chased your lips with his own.

“Never again, remember?” you whispered, dragging your fingers along his temple, pushing back his hair.

“When I said that I didn't mean..I-I just meant that.." his eyes fell to your lap as he trailed off, making you aware of the slow grinding motion your hips had begun to trace against the growing bulge in his underwear.

A small sound of pleasure rose in his throat when you added pressure to your movement. You leaned in, your noses brushed, but before you could kiss him again Felix threw you off by widening the gap between his legs.

"What're you…"

“Use me, princess. I don't see anything wrong with that, do you?"

You hated the cocky expression he wore when he flexed the muscles of his thigh. You hated it, and before you knew it you were straddled around his left leg, silently cursing the thin material of your underwear as it was the only thing that separated your pooling heat from the bare skin on his thigh.

The gasp you let out turned to a whimper as he took hold of your hips and began to guide your pace, bobbing his leg underneath you. When your eyes fell to the obvious tent in his underwear, you pulled one of his hands away from your body to press his own palm down against it.

"Touch yourself, Felix. I don’t see anything wrong with that, do you?”

His breath hitched when you squeezed the hand over his bulge, and your pace slowed as you watched him comply. Bringing his hand up, he shoved his underwear down just enough to take out his hard cock, such a pretty cock, with a pretty pink tip. And you fought the urge to run your tongue along it—to taste the salty release.

Felix leaned back, locking eyes with you as he began to stroke himself, making your aching pussy involuntarily clench around nothing. When he bucked his hips up into his fist, you hissed at the sudden movement of his thigh. Your eyes followed the slow motion of his wrist, and as his thumb began to circle the tip, you decided that you couldn't fucking stand it anymore.

You leaned over and forcefully turned his head, placing a sloppy, wet kiss to his already parted lips. A rumble escaped his throat, and sweet, husky moans filled your mouth when you replaced the hand on his cock with your own.

It wasn't enough. It could have been, you knew you were close. One more flex of his thigh, a few more swipes against your sensitive clit, would have you tumbling over the edge. But his cock in your hand would never compare to how it felt stuffed inside your pussy.

Felix let out another low moan that turned into a chuckle when he watched the way your glossy eyes followed your hand as it moved up and down his throbbing length. "You know, you’re more than welcome to sit on my cock princess, if you think you can control yourself."

“Do you think you can control yourself if I don't let you touch me while I do it?" you managed.

Felix smirked in response, a dangerous smirk, dark eyes full of lust as he raised his hands dramatically before setting them down at his sides. And then your fingers were in his hair, trailing down his body, drawing a path with your touch. You pulled yourself back over to straddle his lap, and Felix moaned louder than you did when you pushed your panties to the side and sank down onto his thick length. Without giving yourself time to adjust, the burn from the stretch had you struggling to catch your breath, dizzy with pleasure.

Felix kept his hands at his sides as his hooded eyes trained to your chest. Sensing that he wanted to touch you there, you slipped out of your bra, cupping your breasts to tease him. He watched intently with his tongue between his teeth, and when your walls fluttered around him he let out a deep growl as his cock pulsed inside you.

Your fingers followed his eyes when they dropped down to where your bodies met—to your clit, where you began to rub lazy circles, causing his hands to twitch at his sides.

When he noticed the bulge in your lower abdomen, visible proof of how deeply he was buried inside of you, Felix thought he was going to lose his mind at the sight. His head fell back, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to keep from painting your walls with his cum right then and there.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was a calm sea of black in place of the stars.

“I can feel how bad your pussy wants me to touch you, angel.” When you opened your mouth to protest, he stole a kiss from your lips, swallowing your words before continuing. “To wrap my fingers around your throat,” you shuddered when he brought a hand up to your neck, but he didn’t make contact with your skin. Instead, he used the hand to reach around and grab a fistful of your hair at the roots. You let out a whimper when he jerked your head to the side before leaning in to whisper against your ear. “To fuck you dumb on my cock.”

You moaned again and a strained “fuck” fell from his lips when you shifted in a desperate attempt to feel him move inside you. When he let go of your hair, you dropped your head to his neck, and your hums mixed together in a symphony of pleasure as you began to rock your hips. Shamelessly giving in to your body's desire.

“Ah shit, just like that," he groaned, squeezing his hands into fists where they hovered at your sides. The twisting pressure in your core had you whimpering into the hot skin at his neck, “touch me, touch me please,” and Felix wasted no time. He roughly grabbed your hips and slammed himself up into you, shushing the soft cries that spilled from your lips as a result. "Such a good girl princess, gonna let me take care of you now?"

You nodded, preparing for him to thrust into you again, but Felix did something unexpected instead.

He lifted you up over the edge of the spring, and you clung to him as he laid you down on top of the clothing you had shed before getting into the water. It provided a barrier between you and the cold surface of the ground, and once he was satisfied and made sure that you were comfortable, he ripped your panties off and dragged the flushed tip of his cock back to your entrance, parting your folds.

And Felix thought it was cute, when you looked up at him with big shiny doe eyes waiting for him to take you. So sweet, so innocent. And something about it made him want to ruin you until you cried, just so he could be the one to wipe your tears.

"Don't forget who owns this pretty pussy, sweetheart," he growled hot against your ear as his cock pressed at the entrance of your needy hole. You let out a pathetic whine when he stopped his movement.

"Please, it hurts," you begged, squirming underneath his hold as your release leaked out around his tip.

"Tell me who owns this cunt, and I might just give you what you want," he huffed.

Your nails dug into his skin, tears pricking at your eyes as you whimpered, “Y-you do."

“C’mon baby I know you can do better than that. Say my name, sweetheart.”

“F-Felix...you do Felix, please,” you gripped his shoulders tighter, fingers passing over rough scars on the skin underneath.

“Thats right,” he hummed, easing himself into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“Does that feel good?” he chuckled at the way your hips greedily met his. When he bottomed out, you pulled him down into another heated kiss just to feel more of him. And then he began to thrust, moving his hips at pace far too slow for your liking as he relished in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in.

“S-so good, Lix, harder please. I can't-" Your back arched, your eyelids fluttered closed, and Felix had to bite his lip to keep from losing it at the sight.

“Yes you can," he purred, leaning down to whisper into your ear. "You begged for it like whore. So be a good girl and take it like one, hm?" And then without warning, Felix picked up his pace, drilling into you faster, deeper, harder.

You let out soft sobbing noises that he muffled with kisses—kisses along your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbones where he sucked and nipped at the skin. The marks he left behind would be covered by your clothing tomorrow, but they would be there, and only Felix will know it.

One of his hands snaked up to grab at your tits, then down to your clit where he pressed the pad of his thumb. He began to draw gentle circles, pushing you that much closer to your orgasm. And you didn't even try to hold back the loud moans of pleasure that escaped you as his thick cock bullied deeper into your cunt.

"'m fucking close, Lix-”

Felix was too, in fact he certain he wasn't going to last ten more seconds if you kept clenching around him. “I know-shit” he cursed under his breath, “But you’re going to hold it just a little bit longer for me.”

He pulled out with a deep groan and you let out a noise of protest at the sudden lack of fullness. "Shhh, I know but I haven't even gotten to taste you yet,” he muttered, shifting down to lower his face between your legs.

“Oh fuck-” your eyes shot open when you felt hot breath against the inside of your thighs. Your hands found their way to his dark locks, pressing his face into your cunt, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly you came when his broad tongue collided with your clit.

The pleasure was overwhelming as the orgasm ripped through. Felix continued to lap at you, collecting your arousal on his tongue. You cried out his name, over and over again, because you had forgotten everything else. And within seconds, before you had even come down from your own high, Felix was pumping his cock over your pulsing heat. He emptied himself on your pussy, against your folds, the warm sensation making you hiss.

After he had painted the most intimate parts of you with his cum, Felix took his fingers and spread his release over your overstimulated clit, making your legs tremble. And it took everything he had to fight the possessive urge to collect it on his fingers and push it inside your spent hole.

When the stars faded from your vision, you looked up to find him staring down at the mess he'd made. Eyelids half-open, lips parted in a daze. You reached down to collect some of your shared release onto your fingers and sat up to swipe it across his swollen lips. And then you kissed him, tongues meeting to taste the mixture of your releases. You pulled him back down without breaking the kiss, and he held himself up on shaky arms as your lips moved. Slow and passionate, wet and sloppy, as you inhaled each other in.

When the kiss broke, Felix pressed one final peck to your forehead before collapsing at your side, reaching over to pull you into his chest.

"You okay, princess?" his warm breath tickled your ear and you hummed in response. “Shit that was…you're so fucking hot."

"Never again though, right?" you teased, burying your face in his neck. Felix smiled softly against your hair, his chest shook with gentle laughter, and a sense of familiarity washed over you.

As if that very moment had repeated countless times before, in every single lifetime.

You stirred as the first rays of dawn found their way into the cave. Blinking away the grogginess, your body slowly became aware of the weight draped around you. Felix was still soundly asleep and you hesitated to disturb him, but the sudden need for fresh air pulled you gently from his hold.

With cautious steps over the rest of the sleeping boys, you made your way outside, momentarily taken aback by the bright golden rays that bathed the landscape. The sun's presence, without the usual cover of clouds, was a precious rarity—a gift that nature seldom chose to bestow upon the remnants of humanity. It called you to take a few steps further, to let it bathe your skin.

"Enjoying the view?"

You startled, cursing yourself for not paying more attention to the number of sleeping bodies in the cave. When your head snapped to the side you found Hyunjin perched on a large stone with a bright red apple in his hand and an open bag at his feet.

"Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you," you grumbled, taking a step back.

"Don't worry about it," he replied casually, "It's not like I own the sunrise." His tone suggested that he might actually be trying to lighten the mood, to lessen the tension between you, and the surprise must have shown on your face because he let out a light chuckle before taking a bite of the apple.

"Hungry?" he asked. "You didn't eat much last night."

You hesitated, caught off guard by his observation. "A little, yeah."

"Here," he reached down into the bag and pulled out a second apple, tossing it to you. His eyebrows lifted when you caught it with ease. And then he shifted, as if he was making space for you to sit beside him. You paused, studying him for a brief second before accepting the invitation and settling down at his side.

"Thanks," you stole a quick glance his way before biting down into the fruit, appreciating the crisp sweetness as the juice ran down your chin.

"I've known Felix for a long time, y/n," he suddenly blurted out. Your chewing slowed as you turned your attention to him, intrigued by the sudden change in topic. "He's good at adapting, but I'm not sure he knows how to handle anything beyond survival anymore.”

After a moment, a half-smile ghosted across Hyunjin's features and he continued. “Felix is who he is. He isn't going to change for you, and he doesn't need the distraction. Just be careful with him."

"Because you weren't?" the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

"Something like that," Hyunjin's response was measured. They had history. You'd sensed as much, understood that some level of complexity existed between Felix and Hyunjin that wasn't there between the others.

When Hyunjin stood, he tossed his apple core aside and your eyes followed the movement, catching on one of his fingers—adorned with a ring that matched one of the rings Felix wore. The sight was like a punch to the gut, a tangible symbol of their bond, forged through circumstances that you couldn't even begin to understand.

“You’re wrong,” you stated as he prepared to leave.

His steps faltered, but he didn’t turn back around to face you when he spoke. “I’ve known him a lot longer than-“

“-Not about Felix,” you interrupted. “About me. I don’t have any desire to change him. I like the way he is because its whats kept him alive.”

Hyunjin stood motionless, as if he was choosing his next words very, very carefully. “You should try to get some more sleep before the rest of them wake," he stated plainly. And then, almost as an afterthought, his voice dropped before he added, "Didn’t sound like you got much last night."

Embarrassment fell over your entire body as he disappeared into the cave. With a heavy sigh you opened your hand, letting the half-eaten apple roll to the ground in front of you as the sweet flavor turned bitter in your mouth.

Upon re-entering the cave, Hyunjin was nowhere to be seen, leaving you to assume that he’d gone to the spring to clean up.

When your gaze shifted to Felix, still asleep where you had left him, your heart sank. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and the anguish etched across his face was unmistakably characteristic of a nightmare.

You stepped closer, concern deepening with each passing second as you watched his eyes dart behind closed lids. Kneeling down beside him you extended a hand, positioning it above his shoulder, but as your fingers inched closer you were abruptly halted by what fell from his lips.

It wasn't merely the despair in his voice that seized you—no, it was the word he spoke that left you frozen in place.

A simple word, whispered like an agonizing plea.

Your name.

Swallowed by darkness, he's stumbling forward but he doesn’t remember how he got there. His knees hit the ground, and he closes his eyes but he can still hear them. Heart-wrenching sobs echo in his ears, sending a shiver down his spine, because he knows it is your voice that they come from.

When he looks up, he sees you on the ground up ahead. Hunched over with your head in your hands and your back turned to him, your entire body shakes with each pained sob. He approaches you cautiously, heart heavy with concern. He reaches to place a hand on your shoulder, and he is surprised to find that your skin is ice cold.

When you turn to meet his eyes, your tear-stained face contorts in anguish and confusion. "Why?” you croak, your voice trembling.

The accusation in your gaze is like a stab to his heart, something he can't bear to see, yet his eyes refuse to close. “Why did you do it, Felix?” you continue. Your sobs turn violent, and his heart breaks as he is forced to watch your pain. He tries to speak, to beg you to forgive him for whatever it is he has done. Yet its as if his lips have been sewn shut, his tongue far too heavy to move. He extends a hand to wipe your tears, but you flinch away from his touch.

And suddenly you’re standing, facing each other. He doesn’t remember how it happened, but he is relieved that your sobs have ceased. He is relieved, until the newfound stillness brings a fresh wave panic to his veins. Because your sadness has been replaced by fear. And as your bloodshot eyes stare directly into his, Felix realizes that it is him, you are afraid of.

You breathe, but it is a ragged breath, as if you are struggling to draw in any air at all. "I trusted you," you whisper, but your speech is gargled as if you are being choked by something. Droplets of crimson fall from your mouth, and his eyes widen in horror as your lips tinge red with blood.

A final tear travels down your cheek as you lower your head. And Felix follows your eyes down, down to where his hand is tightly clutched around the blood-soaked handle of a knife.

A knife adorned with an intricate floral design, mercilessly embedded in your heart.

Part 7

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