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aspenwritesstuff · 3 months

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Part Seven: Just You

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"Felix smiling because of you was quickly becoming one of your favorite things, and when he rushed forward without warning to hug you? You realized his hugs may be one of them, too." "Hugging Felix was like being wrapped in a warm blanket after being out in the cold. Comfortable, easy, soothing."

warnings: cheating mention, mentions of blood and snot, self-doubt, swearing, mention of violence, not a whole lot of warnings for this chapter, really, it's a lot of fluff.

wc: 5582

author's note: hi, hello. I am alive! I'm so, so sorry for how long it's taken me to update this fic. Writing has been hard, the last year has been a hell of a time. but I'm back now, and I hope that it was worth the wait. If you're still here, thank you. I appreciate your patience and love for PMW.

xoxo,

Aspen

As Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender opened his freezer to pull out a frosty bottle of liquor, you felt at peace. Despite the clutter here and there, his apartment managed to radiate the same comfort and warmth as the man himself.

Following a heartfelt apology for the mess - along with an explanation, despite your insistence that you didn’t mind the few things he’d left out, that he simply wasn’t expecting company - Felix had given you what he referred to as “the grand tour.”

Felix had given a remarkable amount of attention to detail whilst showing you around, as if you were staying longer than just a night, and made sure to show you where every single thing you could possibly need would be located. He’d even shown you how to operate his game consoles with a reasoning of, “Just in case you’re awake after I am,” and a bright smile.

“You could be a realtor, if you ever get bored of tending bar,” you mused, pulling yourself from the memory of your tour before casting Felix a teasing smile. He chuckled before shaking his head and pouring a shot in two of the glasses you’d made for him.

“I don’t know about that,” he said with a comedic level of wariness, drawing out the words as he tucked away the only unused part of your gift away in the cupboard, “But I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your gaze was drawn to the pale blue in the midst of clear glass as your gift to Felix bumped against crystal, a tinge of self-consciousness settling in your thoughts at the absolute contrast to the things he’d already owned. He didn’t seem to mind, though, the corners of his lips remaining curved upwards in a content smile as he shut the cupboard. “Here,” Felix’s voice broke through the train of thought you’d been spiraling down, the squeak of ceramic against granite accompanying the sliding of the minty green cup to you.

“Thanks.” You managed, tearing your eyes from one out-of-place little shot glass to another, taking it into both of your hands despite its size. “What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t have a celebratory drink in honor of your victory?” He said with an innocent seriousness, though he couldn’t hold his smirk towards his own joke for long. “Which victory?” You asked in reply, his lightheartedness paired with the way his head cocked to the side like a curious cat while he’d awaited your reply bringing a small smile to your own lips. “Being the number one fake girlfriend, of course!” He said with a blinding smile, holding up his pink shot glass filled with soju as he waited for you to toast with him, “To the best fake girlfriend in the world!” His prideful tone made you laugh quietly as you lifted your own glass to his with a small ‘clink’ that only tiny little ceramic glasses could make, downing your shot before speaking breathlessly through the burn, “You know, you’re not a half bad fake boyfriend either.” Felix absolutely beamed.

“Now you’re just flattering me,” his voice carried his smile, making it unknown whether or not the heat in your chest was the lingering effects of the soju or simply Felix’s warmth.

“You got a split lip for me tonight, I’d say that definitely got you some points,” you corrected him as he filled the glasses once more, sliding yours back over to you. “And you cleaned it up for me, so the score is evened,” he countered, raising a brow as if challenging you to argue. Of course, you did. “You cleaned my mascara up, too.” “Blood is arguably grosser than gray tear tracks,” he said with a tilt of his head, a hint of a smile betraying just how seriously he was trying to convince you he was taking this. “I snotted on your blazer,” you scoffed, “That’s pretty gross.” “I work at a bar, I’ve seen grosser.” “Touche,” you conceded before downing your second shot, pondering for a moment on how the evening had unfolded before speaking, “I’m still sorry, y’know, about–” “Ah-ah!” Felix held up a finger and shook it, his brows shooting up, “No apologizing for something I chose to do.” “But you–” “I said no apologizing!” he repeated firmly, a frown on his normally cheerful face nearly being enough to make you stop.

As powerful as a pouting Lee Felix was, your guilt was stronger. “You wouldn’t have gotten punched if it weren’t for me.” Felix paused at that, his goofy little scowl morphing into a genuine, parted-lips look of surprise and contemplation. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you now. I’d do it again,” he said earnestly, looking right past your eyes and into your soul. He’d been pretending before, but now? Now Felix was actually serious. “Felix…” you began, trailing off as you realized you couldn’t say what you wanted to. Surely Felix would frown for real if you told him that you didn’t think you, yourself, were worth the trouble - and genuinely upsetting Felix sounded like a great way to cry for the third time this evening. “I’m serious!” he insisted, taking his second shot and dutifully pouring you both another, “And, honestly? That guy seemed like a dick. I’d probably have punched him eventually anyway, y’know? So stop blaming yourself for a silly little scrape.” You sputtered out a laugh, having failed to hold it back at the idea of San and Felix somehow meeting without you as a mutual existence in their lives. “You think so?” You asked him, still trying to hold back from simply cackling at the notion. “Oh, for sure. Assholes love going to bars, and I work at one. I’m sure I’d have seen him eventually and he’d have done something that would warrant a punch.” You couldn’t argue that, at least. San did have a penchant for being a dick pretty much anywhere he went. “I don’t see you as the ‘punch-a-random-dude’ kind of person, Felix,” you argued the next best - and valid - thing you could.

“He isn’t a random dude, he’s a prick and he sucks,” Felix said somberly, looking gravely serious as he slid your refilled cup over to you.

The laugh that threatened to escape had now succeeded, making you cover your mouth while it made its way through you and out into the air. Once it had died down, Felix took his shot and sighed, looking a bit conflicted. You wondered what on earth could be so serious in his little sunshine-y head, but you didn’t have to ponder long. “So…who was that guy?” Felix asked quietly, averting his eyes as if afraid the question would be far too much. Normally, he’d be right…but now? You weren’t sure if it was because it was Felix asking, or the way he’d been there for you tonight, or the soju that was now effectively making you relax, but you would tell him. It was weird. Jisung knew about San because he’d been there firsthand, but otherwise you simply opted out of sharing. Of course, there were mutual friends of you and San’s who’d ask you, but you would always abruptly change the subject and then make a point not to see those people again. So, it was weird…

But you wanted to tell him. “That was San,” you answered him in a sigh, lifting your shot to your lips and taking it in one fell swoop - you’d likely need it. “And he is?” Felix prompted you to continue, though not aggressively. He was gentle about it, pulling the information from you like a splinter that might hurt, but needed to come out. He wasn’t being nosy, he wasn’t being impatient. He was being compassionate.

As if just as much as you wanted to tell him, he wanted to know. Not for gossip, not for himself…but to understand. “He’s my ex,” you answered simply, setting your shot glass down as Felix immediately pulled it close to himself again, waiting to pour until he was sure you’d finished a complete - if not short - sentence. “You dated him?” Felix asked in an almost dumbfounded way, like the idea of San having once been someone you cared about was unreal. “I almost married him,” you corrected, watching as Felix’s eyes widened briefly before he regained his composure. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he said quietly, putting the now empty soju bottle next to the sink before moving around the counter to stand next to you rather than across. You appreciated his proximity more than you’d want to admit.

“Dodged a bullet, didn’t I?” you murmured, a dry laugh leaving you as you stared down at the shot of soju, “Or, I guess, the bullet dodged me in favor of a different target.” “No…” Felix whispered, going wide-eyed, “He..?” “Yeah.” Silence ensued for a moment as Felix simply glanced at you, then to the floor, then back to you. “Married her, too, if the ring on his finger was anything to judge by,” you added, figuring if you were going to talk about this? You may as well get it all out. “Only thing that ring is gonna be good for is splitting my lip,” Felix said with a quiet, simmering anger, taking his shot before turning to look at you, “Nothing born of cheating is gonna last. He’ll be alone, and he’ll have no one to blame but himself.” “That’s what I tell myself, too,” you responded in kind, swallowing your soju just as he had moments ago, “But maybe I’m wrong. He’s married, and I don’t even believe in love.” “Because of him?” Felix asked quietly, carefully picking up the shot glasses and setting them near the sink, turning to face you as he leaned back on the counter. “Yeah. Because of him.”

Felix frowned, walking up to you and clapping his hands against your cheeks just hard enough to make you pay attention, though there was no sting. His stare looked intense, though not in the same way it did earlier at the gala. He looked angry then. Now he looked sad. “Don’t you dare give him that power,” Felix said sternly, his voice rumbling in his chest as he continued to hold your face, “He doesn’t deserve to have any influence over you or your life. Ever.” “Felix, it’s not that big of–” you began, wanting to assure him that it wasn’t something that needed tending to - at least not now. “Yes. It is.” He interrupted, lowering his hands and sighing softly, “I hate that he did that to you. I wish I’d punched him harder.” “Felix, really, I’m okay.” “No you’re not.” “I’ll be okay.” “I know.”

There was a long silence, interrupted only by the soft swishing of Felix’s hand through his hair, before he finally spoke. “I’m sorry I got so worked up,” he mumbled, still looking away, “I just…you’re important to me, and he hurt you and messed with your brain and–” “Felix, it’s okay,” it was your turn to interrupt now, and the softness of your own voice surprised you. “Thanks for telling me,” he said quietly, looking over at you with a sheepish little grin, the beginnings of the brightness you knew him for starting to return. “It’d be kind of unfair of me not to,” you conceded rather than accepting his gratitude, doing your best to return what you hoped was a semblance of a smile. “What? Why?” Felix asked, perplexion leading him into that all-too-familiar by now head tilt. “You’re trying to prove me wrong, right?” Felix nodded in response, to which you continued, “Shouldn’t you know why I hold my beliefs?” Felix paused, but then nodded, “I suppose so…but still. You didn’t have to tell me, y’know? But you did.” He was right. You didn’t have to tell Felix about San at all, let alone that you’d almost married him. You didn’t have to tell him that San was now getting to live the life that could’ve been yours if he’d stayed faithful. You didn’t have to, but… “I wanted to,” you said quietly, “I…haven’t really talked about it much.” “Will no one listen?” Felix asked innocently, now intent on understanding as much of you as you’d allow. “It’s not that, plenty of people asked.” “Why me?” That question gave you pause. Why Felix, of all people, to unload - albeit in very little detail - what happened with San to? You knew the answer.

Who else to tell but the man who made you a silly little mug that matters to you more than an award? Who else to tell but the man who left a date with his dream girl just to come find you and make sure you were alright? Who else to tell but the man who carried you to bed when you fell asleep in his truck? Who else to tell but the man who almost punched your best friend, and did punch your ex, simply because he wanted you safe? Felix was warm. He was sunlight, he was joy. He was security, dependable even though he might be a bit goofy at times. Felix was safe.

Who else would you tell if not Lee Felix? That was far too long of an answer to give the eagerly waiting man, however, so you settled for simply saying, “Because you’re you.”

And he smiled.

Felix smiling because of you was quickly becoming one of your favorite things, and when he rushed forward without warning to hug you? You realized his hugs may be one of them, too.

Hugging Felix was like being wrapped in a warm blanket after being out in the cold. Comfortable, easy, soothing.

Felix did not hold you too tightly, just enough to make sure you knew he had you, one of his hands absently rubbing your mid back. He smelled of the peach soju you’d shared earlier and remnants of his cologne, and he was warm. Not in the sense you usually saw him, but genuinely and truly warm.

“You know what you need?” he posed his question with an eager smile as he pulled back from the hug, though you wished he hadn’t.

You don’t voice that, though, so instead you settled on a query of your own, “What’s that?”

“Brownies.”

Of all the things to suggest, making brownies at midnight was not on the list of expectations from Felix.

Though at this point, it seemed, Felix had a habit of defying your expectations.

“Hand me the flour?”

You complied, pulling yourself from that train of thought to hand him the large bag of flour, to which he thanked you with that brilliant smile of his.

As you watched Felix expertly fold the batter into itself, you couldn’t help but wonder what else there was to him that you had yet to discover. As much as being taken aback by Felix wasn’t a problem, it also opened the door to an almost unhealthy level of curiosity to who he was when he wasn’t existing in your presence.

A curiosity you couldn’t quite identify the necessity for.

“How long have you been baking for?” you asked, rather than focusing on finding the root of your newfound interest in his life.

Felix paused in his stirring, setting the rubber spatula down to rest against the edge of the bowl as he hummed, answering after a brief moment of contemplation, “A few years, I think?” he began, sounding just as unsure of the answer as you would’ve been, “I started out trying to learn to impress a girl, but turns out she had a boyfriend.” You stifled the urge to roll your eyes; of course he would’ve learned in an attempt to find love. A so very Felix reason to pick up a hobby.

“I liked it, though,” he began, “Baking, that is…not that she had a boyfriend. That’d be weird,” he said with a small laugh, shaking his head as he looked back to the bowl of batter and added in some cocoa powder.

“What makes you like it so much?” you asked him, surprised by the interest you heard behind your own inquiry.

“Well,” he began with another smile as he blended the powder in the bowl, reaching for the chocolate chips to add into the sweet-smelling mixture, “It’s kind of cheesy…” he mumbled, setting the bowl aside to get a pan from beneath the stove.

“Hit me with it,” you said with a small laugh, watching as he poured the rich brown batter into the pan carefully.

“Okay…” he spoke hesitantly, opening the oven and sliding the tray in, “I like having a skill that makes people smile.”

That gave you pause.

While you hadn’t necessarily been wrong about the reason for his initial interest in the hobby being very true-to-form, something about knowing he’d continued because it made people happy struck you, as if there were no other reason that would make as much sense as that one did. Why you hadn’t expected it was beyond you, but you felt a warmth settling in your chest at the thought.

“To make people smile?” you inquired, to which he nodded.

“Yeah. Someone has a bad day? Baked goods. Celebrating? Baked goods. Friends coming over? Baked goods. They’re never really out of place, y’know? And they always make things better.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant but likely not as deeply as he felt it. The look on his face spoke leagues, he looked so proud of being able to do something that brought at least a bit of a bright point to someone’s day.

“That makes sense for you,” you answered him eventually, the corners of your lips turning upwards.

“Does it?” he countered, tilting his head as he picked up a towel to wipe any lingering brownie from his fingertips, “How do you figure?”

“Well, yeah,” you started, the words to say coming from your lips in an unplanned series of compliments that made Felix’s cheeks turn progressively darker shades of pink, “You’re selfless, Felix. You left a date to make sure I was okay, you remembered I like dumb novelty mugs, you’re always smiling and ready to help at a moment’s notice…so, yeah, I think it makes perfect sense that, even with a hobby, you want it to bring brightness into someone else’s life.”

Felix cleared his throat, a grin on his lips that he tried to hide by looking away bashfully, “Wow…I mean, thank you, I…” he trailed off, “I’m really not that great, though, y’know? I’m just…me.”

“Just you was the first person I felt safe sharing my past with San to, remember?” you countered immediately, an ache forming in your gut as you felt the self-deprecating nature of Felix’s comment about himself. You wondered if there were maybe something that had happened to him, just as something had happened to you, to plant such a seed of self doubt in his mind.

You wanted to find whatever it was and pluck it from his little blonde head.

“I guess you’re right…” he said quietly, looking up at you with a lopsided smile.

“No guessing about it, Felix. Just you is pretty great, remember that.” The seriousness with which you spoke those words to Felix surprised you, and apparently him as he paused for a moment with his lips slightly parted.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, still looking every part a flustered boy who hadn’t the slightest clue how to accept a compliment.

“Yeah,” you said back, equal sheepishness in your tone now that exactly what you’d said and how you’d said it registered with you.

Time passed quietly, though not awkwardly after that conversation. Felix had busied himself by washing the mixing bowls and measuring cups while you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone. A sudden ping almost made you jump, the comfortable silence broken by a pop-up denoting a new message.

Dumb Squirrel: hey, minho and i just got back to our hotel!

Dumb Squirrel: how was the gala?

Dumb Squirrel: did you win?

You couldn’t help but smile, the startling dings becoming less jarring and more comforting as they continued to flood through.

You: how’s Jeju?

You: I won, yeah.

You: The gala was…something.

Jisung’s reply came almost the second after you’d hit send, rendering switching back to scrolling socials a bit pointless as you tapped the drop-down.

Dumb Squirrel: “something”???

Dumb Squirrel: explain.

You sighed. Explaining this to Jisung may very well be as exhausting if not more than the actual events that had occurred. You could already guess that he’d react poorly, if not violently - not that Jisung could take a punch, let alone throw one. As tempting as lying was, this was your best friend…and you knew he’d find out eventually.

You: well…San was there.

The absolute flurry of texts you were then bombarded with were nothing short of the literary equivalent of a storm.

Dumb Squirrel: WHAT?!

Dumb Squirrel: what the fuck?

Dumb Squirrel: W H Y the fuck?

Dumb Squirrel: you didn’t call me why?

Dumb Squirrel: are you okay?

Dumb Squirrel: do you need me to come home?

You waited a moment, just to be sure he was done with his rapid-fire questions before responding.

You: I’m okay. He said it was to save me from embarrassment, but I don’t know if I believe that. I didn’t call because I was at the gala and you’re busy. You don’t need to come home.

You: Felix kinda saved me.

Jisung’s next text came in slower, a welcome relief from what was beginning to tempt you to turn off your ringer.

Dumb Squirrel: Felix showed?

Dumb Squirrel: I was hoping he would! thank god he did.That was…puzzling. Why had Jisung assumed Felix would come?

You: Did you have something to do with him showing up?

You: I swear if you gave him a guilt trip…

Dumb Squirrel: No, no, nothing like that. He just asked me what the gala was out of nowhere, so I told him. And he didn’t like that you were alone, and asked me if you’d have liked someone there.

Dumb Squirrel: all I did was tell him that yeah, you probably would.

You frowned, this made no sense…

You: How did he even know to ask about it? I never told him.

Dumb Squirrel: I don’t know, that’s a Felix question.

You: and you had NOTHING to do with it?

Dumb Squirrel: would I lie and pass up on being your knight in shining armor by association?

He had a point. Jisung would never pass up on an opportunity to boast about saving the day for you, even when it was something as simple as bringing you a coffee when you had a deadline coming up…there was no way he’d not admit to sending someone to accompany you at the gala.

“Hey, brownies are coming out!” Felix chimed happily from the kitchen, pink oven mitts on his hands bringing a fond look to your face.

You: Felix made me brownies, gotta go. Have fun with minho!

Dumb Squirrel: You’re still with him???

Dumb Squirrel: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Dumb Squirrel: details????

Dumb Squirrel: bitch????

You ignored the texts with a small exhale of a laugh before leaving your phone on the arm of the couch, joining Felix in the kitchen.

The smell in the air was heavenly. Cocoa and a hint of coffee filling your lungs, replacing any thought you had other than just how good something with that rich of a smell would taste. Your mouth watered, and it took more effort than you’d care to admit in order to remember what you wanted to ask Felix.

“So, Jisung texted,” you began, hoping to maybe find a smooth way to ask without sounding accusatory. Simply asking straightforwardly how he knew about the gala felt a bit too brash, a bit too harsh for someone like Felix.

Felix was gentle, so you would be gentle.

“Oh! What’d he have to say?” Felix asked happily while slicing the brownies carefully with a knife, taking a spatula and scooping two out of the pan and onto little plates adorned with pastel flowers along the edges.

“He and Minho are back to their hotel room,” you started, pressing your lips together as you wondered how exactly you’d tackle the elephant in the room that only you could see.

“Oh, that’s right, they’re on vacation, right?” he asked innocently, handing you a plate expectantly.

“Mhm, Jeju,” you said quietly, sitting down at the island counter with your brownie. Why was it so hard to just ask?

“Ooh! Pretty this time of year,” he noted, sitting one seat over from you and setting his own plate down, immediately taking a bite of the brownie with a pleased grumble from deep in his chest, “Try it!” he encouraged, covering his mouth with his hand so as not to show off the mouthful he had.

It was impossible not to, when his eyes sparkled while stared at you. The question could wait.

You lifted the still-warm brownie in your hand, taking a bite from the corner. As soon as it hit your tongue, the perfect mixture of crispy and gooey, you felt your eyes widen with an unintentional exclamation of, “Mmm!” leaving your lips, brows now sky high as you chewed, savoring it for everything it was.

It was more than just a brownie. It was a gift from a boy filled with sunshine - a boy who’d saved you tonight, despite your uncertainty as to how he’d known you’d needed saving in the first place. It was made specifically for you, by a boy who’d learned for someone else entirely.

The boy who liked to bake to make people happier baked these for you, to make you happier.

That was more important right now.

“These are amazing, Felix!” you complimented, lips upturned without you having the intention for them to be, to which he grinned right back.

“Really?” he chirped, straightening up as he accepted the praise, his fluffy hair bouncing around his head as he almost vibrated with the happiness that compliment gave him, “They’re my own recipe, I’m glad you like them!”

“I do!” you nodded before taking another bite, the flavor being perfect - not too sweet, hints of the bitter from the instant coffee powder he’d used in them, “You could sell these!”

Felix shook his head, “They lose their meaning then,” he said earnestly, “It’s not special anymore if just anyone can have them.”

That made your heart lurch in your chest.

You were not just anyone to Lee Felix.

“I guess I see your point,” you managed to speak, rather than pondering exactly what his explanation meant to you. The two of you ate in silence for a while, your brownie being nothing but a few crumbs on a plate when you remembered your original question.

“Felix?”

“Hmm?” he asked, picking up both of your plates and carrying them to the sink.

“How did you know where I was?” you asked him, feeling much more settled now that you’d had a moment of peace with him.

“Oh…” Felix trailed off, a breathless chuckle leaving him as he turned to face you, running a hand through his hair - something you’d learned he did often when nervous, “I think you sent me a picture on accident instead of Jisung.”

“Huh?” you asked him, reaching for your phone only to remember you’d left it on the couch. Felix quickly pulled his own out, saving you the effort, and opening your texts to show you the photo and the text that had mistakenly been sent to him.

He was right in the assumption the photo and message had been meant for Jisung, a dry humor to the ‘pray for me’ you’d attached once you’d arrived to the gala sending off pings in your head as you realized that the message hadn’t, in fact, made it to the intended recipient.

It was an accident, albeit a lucky one.

“And you came..?” you asked him, handing the phone back to him in an almost-daze.

“Well, yeah. I asked Jisung what it was, and once I found out you were all alone at such an important thing for you, I couldn’t just leave you by yourself,” he mumbled, looking away shyly as if admitting his own kindness were difficult for him.

“But you were out with Ryujin,” you pointed out, though if anyone knew that it was Felix.

“I know…I told her I had an emergency with a friend, though, and she understood,” he said, waving a hand almost as though trying to shoo away your concerns.

“How did you even know it was an emergency? You didn’t even know about San,” you spoke quietly, sounding every bit as confused as you felt.

“I didn’t need to know about him to know that being there for you was important,” he shrugged, still downplaying just how big it had been to you.

“More important than a date with the girl you’re head over heels for?” you asked him, incredulous that - without knowing about the discomfort of an ex being there - Felix still found being there for you to be urgent.

“Sure, why not?” he asked, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion as to how that was even a question, “I can reschedule a date, you can’t reschedule an award show.”

He…wasn’t wrong, no…but it felt almost foreign to have the show put on such a high pedestal. You had to beg San, back when you’d actually wanted him there, to come. A man you were supposed to marry basically needed to be dragged to it. And here was Felix…a friend who you’d made in the strangest of circumstances, who’d dropped something he’d wanted for months, unprompted, to support you.

It took everything you had not to cry - and Felix could tell.

“Hey, hey, did I say something wrong?” he asked, hurriedly making his way to your side and putting a hand on your shoulder - a warm, safe, comforting hand. The same hand on the same shoulder he’d comforted you with at the gala…

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just…” you trailed off, cursing the wetness you felt in your eyes as your cheeks grew hot, shaking your head as it felt like your throat grew tighter.

His hand squeezed your shoulder, but he didn’t speak. You didn’t need to look at him to know he held a furrow between his brows, concern written on every facet of his face.

“I just can’t believe you’d show up for me,” you finished your thought, your voice cracking as you managed to keep the tears from spilling down your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Felix said softly, moving his hand to your back to rub small, soothing circles there.

“Because I’m…me,” you said with a dry laugh, wiping your eyes on the back of your hands - they still smelled like the brownies, and it was strangely comforting.

“None of that,” Felix said with a frown, reaching behind him to grab a paper towel in case you’d need to wipe your eyes or blow your nose, “Just you is pretty great, too, y’know.”

He echoed the sentiment you’d given him earlier, though it felt almost uncanny to have reversed towards you now. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked up at him and nodded with a quiet sniffle.

“Yeah?” you managed to ask, your voice thick with emotion.

“I wouldn’t make you brownies if you weren’t.” His words were like an oath, his face devoid of any hint of humor as he nodded in return.

And you believed him. You believed that somehow, Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender, found just you to be enough.

Enough to make his special recipe he saved for making others happy for. Enough to leave the girl he was hopelessly in love with alone at a bar. Enough to punch your ex in the face. Enough to carefully clean your face up. Enough to remember you collected, let alone to make a silly novelty mug for. Enough to carry you up to your apartment when you’d fallen asleep. Enough to care about.

Even after the threat of tears were gone for the time being, that thought would stick with you.

You were enough to be cared for, and that thought would surround you just as much as the scent of brownies and Felix’s shampoo as you fell asleep in his bed that night, his light snoring from the couch being the sweetest lullaby.

It was the best night’s sleep you’d had since San left, and the final thoughts in your head were that you certainly hoped Felix knew that he, too, was enough. More than enough. You hoped he knew that everything he’d done for you had given you a deep sense of peace, quieting those voices in the back of your mind that would whisper things into your ears to make you doubt yourself. You hoped he knew that his brownies made you happy. You hoped he knew that you’d always be grateful for just how much he’d done for you - not only in the last twenty-four hours, but since you’d met him.

You were already grateful, too, for the things he had yet to do, because there was no doubt in your mind that there would, in fact, be more he would do for you.

Not that you’d ever ask him. You wouldn’t have to. That was just Lee Felix.

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