#sunrise is my favorite part of the day AND if my apartment was high enough I'd have a view of lake michigan

[killerchickadee]

I wish I didn't have those tall building blocking my view cause I can tell it's a gorgeous sunrise, but this is all I can see.

[stardustedknuckles]

Housesitting for my lesbian bookstore owner friend and her girlfriend and it's the first time I've seen their house and I'm fully just about to cry standing in the kitchen because it's autumn and I can feel things and what I feel is a life together, their dog asleep on the couch, the plants, the wind that never stops here. This is a nothing town, this house one of many sprawled and leaning away from a high school my own mother went to once for six months, but that just makes it more real. They said I could harvest from their garden, please eat all of the tomatoes I felt like, we have three ways to make coffee and this is our newest favorite. There's photos of them on strings along the living room walls, which are ocean blue, and every knickknack on every shelf feels like a little moment, a little monument.

I never thought I wanted a house and a person to share it with, but I've never been inside a home shared by lesbians and realized what's possible for me one day, that the idea of a home with someone else could ever appeal to me so strongly. It's just a house full of other people's memories, but every single thing in it is set up just for them and their comfort and it resonates in a way I can't explain. I grew up with a house always set to look perfect in case other people stumbled down our long, hidden gravel driveway, and none of the twelve other apartments and couches I've called home could be seen objectively as anything more than another chaotic stop along a very haphazard way. I thought I wanted to travel forever, live out of an RV or be able to pack my life into a 4-door sedan and run when I needed to - towards or away. There's never been anything about a place to come back to that has appealed to me. Just places (and inevitably people) for leaving.

But the plants are spilling over the mantel and along the walls and windows and they're here just to be here - thriving, but with the little dry edges here and there that tell you they're real and they're not expected to be anything else. In a box on the shelf next to me are a series of thick, slightly faded cards, the first of which reads "guide for your birthday" in the handwriting of the one who runs the bookstore. a tangle of battery-operated fairy lights. A wii, the newest electronic but for the TV.

Maybe I'm just getting old. Maybe this is what every queer person feels when they figure themselves out, just part of the journey of finding what you want before you chase it. Maybe this is a stop on my journey to recovering from whatever inflammation has dogged my steps for fifteen years now and I can finally be still long enough to learn how to want.

But at the end of the day, it's this simple: there's a front porch that faces the sunrise and under the hanging flower baskets a rocking chair - worn, ready to use - meant for two. And sitting on the couch looking out the window at this porch and the sleepy old houses beyond, I've never felt lonelier or more comforted. Home really does exist, even if it's not this one, today, for me. And that's enough, to know what's possible.

[ynainna]

The Grave of Cecilias

synopsis: Despite it having been several hundred years since the end of the Archon War, Venti’s heart is still heavy with the grief of those he’s lost.

word count: 1,800

pairing: venti x f. reader

genre: angst

warnings: some spoilers from the recent last archon quest (aka the ver 1.1 story update), bad writing lol, angst (but not really I think?)

notes: look, originally my first fic was going to be a Diluc fic so it would be a perfect catalyst for my dumbass self but Venti is just perfect for some angsting time. Sorry in advance for my writing lmfao. I also think some of these facts are inaccurate but I’m a bit stupid and didn’t completely connect some dots from the wiki that I should’ve and due to the fact, ya know, p l o t. Feedback is also welcome but pls be nice about it. This is also extremely bad and  I high key think this is horrible lmao. It’s so bad.

In the days of the Archons, years before the eruption of the Archon War, Gods roamed. Each God was responsible and represented different things, often symbolizing what their powers were. In which there was the God of Dust and the God of Blizzards. Gods had been abundant that it isn’t a surprise that there was once a Goddess of Flora. 

It is no secret that gods gained their power from the worship of others. Due to the Goddess of Flora often being pushed aside to give way to the stronger gods, she had very little following from the people of Teyvat, making her one of the weaker gods. Instead of growing bitter at both her situation and her people, she had embraced her lower status. She was often heard saying, “It is better to be loved by a few who love you for yourself than to be loved by the whole for greed,” in response to them asking about it.

In her small following, there was a civilization that had worshipped her the most. The small civilization had been the ones responsible for the creation of the Cecilia Garden, their gift to the ancient god who had favored the common white flowers, Cecilias, as her favorite.

Cecilias, in the age of the Archon War, wasn’t a rarity and was often the cause of the white sea. The only traces left of the said white sea in the records were from the Cecilia Garden where it was said that it was such a common flower that it was written as “the sea of white flowers”. 

The legends tell very few stories about the fate of the Sea of White, often only found in the debris and faded writings in the ruins of old. Cecilias of this day and age are often only found to grow in the high cliffs, specifically numerous on the infamous Starsnatch cliff. 

Not many know the history of Starsnatch Cliff. Long before it was Starsnatch Cliff or the place where the last of the Cecilias grow, it was simply the plains. 

Cecilias were abundant in the age of the Archons, never far from your sight at every turn. It is a wonder to a few on how a flower had only grown exclusive to one area. 

While not many know the history of Starsnatch, the most one would have to know is it was where the end of a love story between two gods, torn apart by war, was.

Venti’s favorite flower is Cecilias. It’s not his favorite flower due to its simple beauty or even its rarity but due to its history. Prior to the Cecilias, his favorite had been the Dandelions, which was no surprise to others. He had only started to favor the Cecilias near the beginning of the Archon War and even then that was only due to you.

Starsnatch Cliff is many things but to Venti it had only been a reminder of his grief. 

To Venti, it’s your grave.

Venti has lived for more than a thousand years so it’s a given that he would have a few missing memories of the past and a hesitance to recollect any memories from the age of the Archons. Despite it, there are a few he remembers very vividly.

He remembers your smile. It was a soft curve accompanied by cheeks tinged with a faint glow of pink. He remembers your eyes, twinkling, crinkling in the corners in your glee. 

And while he remembers very few things now, he has always remembered every part and memory he has of you, good or not.

The last he has of you was near the beginning of the Archon War.

The first he has of you were at the end of Decarabian’s reign and the death of his dear friend.

He remembers, mourning his death, readying his burial when you appeared with your gentle hands and kind understanding smile. In your hands had been Cecilias, freshly picked.

With your hands you guided him to a place and helped him bury his friend, silence was the only thing between you. You were kind enough to ignore the tears and the sniffles. You finished at sunset. The only trace of you that was left was the picked Cecilias he had first seen you with. Despite his grief, Venti felt the corner of his lips tug up to a small smile.

He doesn’t ask until later on in your friendship about why you had given his friend the Cecilias. You only answer with a small smile at his question. To this day, he still doesn’t know why but he has a feeling.

He treasures the memories of him loving you and mourns the memories he retains of everything of the love lost between you.

The Archon War had not been kind to anyone, even to you and to him. 

It is common knowledge that the Archon War had killed off a lot of gods, many of whom are buried under the grounds and some being sealed off. It was a time of turmoil, you don’t expect or hope to come out of it alive, you only fight and hope it is enough to survive another day.

You were the Goddess of Flora, responsible for the growth of the world’s vegetation. Due to such low status, your responsibilities were very little. The growth of vegetation, the worry for the changing of seasons, and your people had been the only things that were your responsibilities. 

You had no desire for power nor anything more. You had only wished to care for your people to the utmost best of your abilities and to continue living the way you had lived.

But war does not discriminate.

It didn’t matter if you didn’t have the desire to fight others. You fight or you die. You, a god once often seen at the sidelines or invisible, was pushed into the fighting ring built by greed and arrogance.

While you may have not wanted to fight in the war, you had to, if not for you, for your people. In your death, your only thought had been about your people and Barbatos. It had only ever been them.

It’s raining. Venti thinks the world is laughing at them or maybe the God of Storms or Rain is mocking them for being weak, for falling in love at a time like this where it is a sign of weakness.

His hands are bloody and shaking as he holds you closer to his body. His sight is blurred by his tears that are blending in with the rain. Grief is clogging his throat and he can’t breathe. There’s not enough time for anyone to save you.

The previous battle had taken a toll on both of you and Venti. While Venti’s were only fatigue and mild injuries, yours were fatal. You had taken a wound to your gut and while it isn’t often a major injury to gods, your powers had been drained and the fatigue you feel is what makes it fatal. There’s nothing that can fix it.

You know it.

He knows it.

But despite this, logic can’t seem to get through Venti’s panic. His mind is going rampant and he can’t seem to know where to put his hands or what to fix. 

You look at him with your heavy eyelids, lips quivering as you strain your body to move. With great difficulty, you bring your bloody and mangled hands towards Venti’s cheeks, landing heavily. Venti freezes, his eyes wide at the contact.

With a heavy heart, he turns his head towards you to meet your eyes. His hand slowly creeps up to the hand on his cheek. He feels his grief to come back up, scratching and clawing at his heart. When your eyes meet, you smile. Strained and quivering, but a smile nonetheless.

He feels his breath hitch at your smile. You smile like the sunset, the gradual end. The tears come up again, you had only ever smiled like the sunrise and to see it grow smaller, to see it fade is another type of pain.

“Love, no,” he whispers, throat dry as he looks at your eyes. “Don’t leave me. Hang on, please. You’ll be okay. Please. Please. Please...” Venti pleads, voice growing hoarse as the grief creeps back up with ravenous hunger. 

“Barbatos...” you wheeze out, eyes slowly fluttering as you try to hold on for him, just for a few seconds, “I...I... I love...you. T-Thank you...for... for-for lo...ving me.”

“No love, stop. Stop trying to say goodbye, please, no. No. I love you. I love you so much so please don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you,” Venti heaves out with a raspy voice, clutching your hand with a harsh grip in hope of keeping you here, with him.

“Don’t leave me” he cries out.

Even with your injuries and numbness, the sight of his tears and grief caused a pang of pain to erupt. 

“Love,” you rasp out, tears pouring out of your eyes, that were once glittering and now dull, “you have... to let me go.”

“NO!” he denies your pleas. 

“Please... just give me more time with you... anything for you. Please.”

You cough, blood coming up and the cold hands of death creeping closer to you.

“I love you... so much. L-Live on for me... please.”

You don’t hear anything after that, not your lovers sobbing and pleading for you to come back, to hold on.

Not long after, you fade into a million different golden dust. No body left to bury.

In your death, the Cecilias slowly disappear from the world despite your followers trying their utmost best to keep it from dying away. But without their god and with no protection, even they eventually fell. With their fall, the Sea of White was no more.

In memory of you, the world created a grave for you. 

Due to his love and memory of you, Venti caused the winds to only carry the Cecilias seeds to only fly around your grave and causing your grave to be the only place where Cecilias grew. Despite it having been several hundred years since the end of the Archon War, Venti’s heart is still heavy with the grief of those he’s lost.

History doesn’t write of the Goddess of Flora, there isn’t a lot of text written about her in fact. No hints about a possible connection with the Anemo God. And no one needs to know.

All who does is Venti. It’s all he has left of you that’s his and his alone.

In your death, the winds had howled and grew rough and sharp. 

Long before Starsnatch Cliff was anything, it was your grave.

It was the Grave of Cecilias.

[lavenderbexlatte]

a handful (or two)

stray kids 3.9k words female reader insert Thick/Chubby!Reader x Lee Felix  EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: DISCUSSIONS OF WEIGHT/BODY IMAGE/INSECURITY, unprotected sex 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

Sitting at your kitchen table in the early evening, you feel more like a soldier walking into battle than anything else.

You’ve got a list of your body measurements scrawled on a piece of paper beside you, as you scroll through an online shop on your phone. Ruffled blouses, wrap dresses, raw-hemmed jeans, tiered skirts, fitted cardigans. The clothes are cute, and your Likes list has no shortage of garments, but you’ve reached the worst part of clothes shopping:

Finding things that are actually in your size.

Korean online malls are not known for their variety of sizes, even though obviously, the people in any country who need to buy clothes have all different kinds of bodies. The cute clothes, the mainstream ones, the clothes that YouTubers and Instagram models promote, are mostly one-size. And that one size…is small.

Too small for you.

It’s a regular debate that you have with yourself. You shouldn’t even give your patronage to shops like these ones, where you have to filter through every single item and look at the detailed measurements to find the rare pair of pants that you could squeeze into. You shouldn’t play into a system that makes you hate yourself.

But you need new jeans. And in your heart, you want cute jeans from the online mall, like everyone else.

You pull up a pair of jeans in exactly the style that you want and scroll down to the measurements. You have to steel yourself as you look at the numbers.

Waist…hips…thigh…rise…length…

They’re too small.

You pull up another pair, and another, and another. They’re all too small.

“No,” says a small, dark voice in the back of your mind, “You’re just too big.”

You’re so caught up in this game of finding cute things to wear and discovering exactly how much the seller doesn’t want them to fit on people like you, that you don’t even hear your boyfriend until he’s right next to you.

“What are you doing?” comes a deep voice, right in your ear.

You jump in your seat, fumbling your phone for a second and catching it before it falls. Catching your breath, you look up at Felix, stood beside your chair gazing down at you.

“Jesus, when did you get here?” you ask, putting your phone down before anything else happens.

“Just got in,” he answers, nodding toward the door. “I called hello. You didn’t answer.”

Felix has a key to your place, free to come and go as he pleases, so it’s not exactly unusual for him to turn up like this. He’s dressed in a big t-shirt and joggers, practice clothes, obviously fresh from the studio with the rest of the guys.

“I was distracted,” you murmur.

“I guess so,” he grins at you.

You offer a halfhearted smile in return, feeling stupid for your bad mood, caused by something so out of your control. Shopping shouldn’t ruin your day. Felix pulls out your other dining chair to sit across from you at the small dining table, and you can’t help but stare at his body as he settles down. 

He’s so…skinny.

You’re envious. You shouldn’t be, because your body is plenty good enough as it is. But you are. With a body like that, you could wear anything.

“What are you doing?” he asks you.

You hesitate, but Felix pays no mind to your internal struggle, reaching across the table to pick up the scrap of paper covered in your measurements. You want to snatch the paper out of his hands, which is ridiculous. He knows what your body looks like. Seeing the numbers that describe it isn’t going to scare him off.

But still, you feel that sick self-consciousness rising up as he glances over the paper, and sets it back down.

“I’m trying to buy jeans,” you say weakly.

“Trying?” Felix prods.

“Trying and failing.”

You pick up your phone, unlock it, and shove it at him, the screen still open to the last pair of too-small jeans. He peers at the listing, at the chart full of centimeters, and then down at your measurements scrawled out in your handwriting.

“They call that a large?” Felix says, amazed, and you cringe. “It’s like a half-centimeter difference.”

You know he’s just surprised since shopping for women’s clothes isn’t something he does often, and you’re sure he doesn’t know how common this problem is for you. But his words still sting a little.

“Yeah,” you say, “I think I’m done for tonight.”

You try not to let your deep-seated disappointment in the situation, and in yourself, show too much. Felix watches as you stand up and stretch. You can tell he’s thinking hard, can see that he wants to say something. But you really don’t need his commentary on this. You spend enough time thinking about your body, wanting to change your body, hating that you want to change your body…

“Do you want dinner? I went to the store earlier,” you say, determined to change the subject.

“Sure,” Felix agrees easily.

You cross your little kitchen and fling open the cupboard to dig out groceries for your meal. At least this is a task to take your mind off everything.

You don’t even notice as Felix takes the slip of paper from the table and folds it into his pocket.

--------------- Some days later, you all but trip into your bedroom after work, exhausted but hopeful.

Felix’s shoes and jacket were both waiting by the front door when you came in, which means he’s here waiting for you. He was nowhere to be seen in the rest of your small apartment, so that leaves this.

Of course, you’re not disappointed; Felix is lounging on your bed, playing on his phone and looking like the epitome of comfort in lounge pants and messy blonde hair. He smiles like the sunrise when he sees you.

“Hi, angel,” he says, as you drop your bag on the floor.

Instead of replying, you let yourself fall onto the bed beside him, flat on your back, and stretch out your poor sore limbs like a starfish.

“Long day?” he asks.

“The longest,” you agree.

“You’re in luck, though,” he says, “I have a surprise for you.”

You turn your head to look at him. “Really?”

He nods.

“Then gimme!” you quip.

Felix laughs brightly, and unfolds himself to retrieve a small gift bag from the side of the bed, tucked out of view. He hands it to you, and it’s surprisingly heavy and dense for its size. Today isn’t a special day by any means. Just a weekday, a work day, and you wrack your brain to figure out exactly why your boyfriend decided tonight was the night for presents.

“Can I open it?” you ask.

“You’d better,” says Felix, settling back down to watch you.

So you unceremoniously rip out the tissue paper packing, and when you’re met with a small pile of folded fabric, you upend the whole bag onto your bed.

There are four things inside.

A soft, oversized t-shirt, loose and comfortable and your favorite color, to boot.

A pair of thigh-high stockings.

A single thigh garter, in bright white.

And a pair of panties, also white. You unfold the underwear, to reveal a heart-shaped cutout on the back, and at the bottom…

“Crotchless?!” you ask, flustered.

Felix shrugs, his expression mischievous, “I thought they suited you.”

“What’s all this about?” you ask.

“I wanted to prove a point,” he says.

“What point can you prove with lingerie?”

“I’m proving pretty clearly that plenty of stores sell things to your measurements,” he says cheekily, “Just not that one store you were on the other day.”

Oh, my God.

You’re equal parts mortified and absolutely melting with the sweetness at the heart of this gesture. You didn’t realize that he was paying this much attention to you that day. You didn’t realize he knew how frustrated you were, how discouraged.

“They’re pretty,” you admit, turning the panties over in your hands.

“Then try them on for me.”

Felix’s tone is suggestive and low, lower than usual, and you know for certain that he didn’t just buy these things to cheer you up. He’s got an ulterior motive here.

“What’s in it for me?” you tease.

“Dress up for me and find out,” Felix replies.

Never one to turn down the prospect of some fun, you gather up the clothes and dart across the hall into your tiny bathroom. If Felix wants you to dress up for him, you need to do that alone and make a spectacle of it.

You dump the armful of clothing onto the counter. There’s no bra or anything, so you assume that Felix means for you to wear only the t-shirt. And that’s exactly what you do, stripping out of your work clothes and pulling the shirt over your head. You put on the panties, noting exactly how well they fit. The elastic doesn’t dig, and they don’t ride up, just smooth fabric and lace against your skin, hugging the curve of your ass. You try to forget about the opening at the bottom, baring you to the world; you already know Felix fully intends to use it, but you can’t believe he’s done this. It’s bold, even for him.

The thigh-highs come next, and while these also fit more nicely than any pair of tights you’ve ever owned, you have thick thighs, and the soft skin dimples around the top elastic band. You slide the thigh garter onto one leg, settling it at the top of the stocking. It only makes that indent more pronounced, soft flesh giving way under the thick white band. But you try your hardest not to feel self-conscious about it.

Felix picked these things for you. That means he wants to see you like this.

You pluck up all your courage, and walk back into your bedroom. Felix is waiting eagerly, and when you come into view, lingering shyly at the doorway, he smirks. 

Honest-to-God smirks.

“Oh, angel,” he says, his deep voice nearly breaking over the syllables, “Oh, yes.”

You can see plainly on his face how much this little outfit is affecting him, and it sends a little thrill down your spine. Because truly, these clothes aren’t too out of the ordinary. The thigh-highs are new, and the panties aren’t something you would have picked for yourself, but it’s hard not to feel like you’re just wearing…a t-shirt and underwear.

It’s the intimacy, you decide. The fact that Felix carefully chose items in your most precise, comfortable sizes, and built you a sexy little dress-up kit that makes you feel as good as you look…God. Overwhelmingly intimate, you realize, and hot as hell.

“Let me see you, come here and give me a little spin,” Felix teases, twirling his finger in the air to mimic the model turn he’s demanding.

Smiling, squashing down a touch of embarrassment, you comply, coming to stand before Felix and turning around slowly on the spot. You can feel his eyes on you, and as you turn your back on him completely, you hear your bed creak.

Hands land on your waist as Felix pulls you flush against his front, and you can feel how hard he is already, filling out the front of his sweatpants. He’s always eager, always relishes the time you get to spend lost in each other, but he seems especially brazen tonight, as he grinds his clothed cock against your ass and slides his hands under the t-shirt to cup your bare breasts.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he murmurs.

You turn around in his arms, letting his hands drop back to your waist. He’s grinning at you with no small amount of lust in his eyes. You’re sure that you look similarly affected; you can already feel wetness gathering between your legs. His undivided attention, especially when you’re dressed up like this just for him, has you going out of your mind with want.

“Then show me,” you say.

He huffs out a laugh before diving in to kiss you, his pouty bow-shaped lips moving against yours roughly. Felix kisses like he’s starving and you’re one of the desserts that he loves to bake, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he stops ravishing you. His hands wander down to your ass, pinching hard enough that you squeak.

“Easy on the goods!” you chastise, as the spot aches deliciously.

Felix just pinches you again, harder, and guides you back toward your bed. You lay back on the mattress with Felix right behind you, settling between your spread legs. He sits back on his heels, just looking down at you beneath him in your skimpy panties and stockings. He runs his hands down your thighs indulgently, sliding a finger under the garter on one side and pulling it back so that it snaps against your skin.

“Angel, I should’ve thought of this a long time ago,” he says.

There’s no time for you to tease him, because Felix pulls his shirt over his head and discards it over the side of the bed, and you’re taken in by his gorgeous lithe body, his tiny waist and the rippling lines of his abs. No matter how many times you see him like this, it’s still exciting, that you can have someone so beautiful. He takes hold of the hem of your t-shirt next, and coaxes you upright so that he can take that off, too.

Your body is the exact opposite of his, soft where his is hard, sloping curves instead of the sharp cut of his ribs and hips and shoulders. But he leans right down over you and begins to kiss and nibble his way down your body, starting at the juncture of your collarbone. He trails his mouth over your chest, down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasp as he grazes his teeth over the bud, and he laughs gently.

Felix continues his slow ascent as you grasp at the sheets, mouthing over your stomach, soft like the rest of you. His hands hold your legs open wide for him as he moves down your body. He skips over your core entirely, choosing instead to bite sharply into the exposed skin of your upper thigh, above the band of the stockings.

“Lix!” you gasp, unable to help how your hips twitch forward at the sensation of his teeth.

He hums in response, leisurely delving forward to press a single lingering kiss to your folds, on full display in these deceptively pure white panties that hide absolutely nothing.

“Fucking love your legs,” Felix all but growls against the soft skin of your inner thigh, “Fucking love-”

Your hand flies down to grip at Felix’s hair as he bites a second bruise, this one on the tender inside of your leg. He’s never been this singularly-focused before, and you marvel at the way he’s worshipping your thighs, your waist, his hands roaming your ass and tweaking the fabric of the thigh-highs. You’ve always known that Felix liked your body – he’s your fucking boyfriend, after all. But this…

“Felix, I can’t,” you whine, “I need you, I need…”

“Oh, believe me,” Felix says, “I need it more.”

He draws away from you to push and kick his sweats and underwear off, and you watch hungrily as his cock bobs free, painfully hard and already leaking precome.

“You want – like this?” you ask, as Felix drops back on top of you, the head of his cock already nudging up against your pussy.

Felix likes it from behind, likes being able to grab your ass and watch your back arch as he drives into you. He likes you on top, so he can watch you bring yourself to orgasm using him. This is uncommon for you, missionary, you sprawled underneath Felix as he bends your knees up for better access and strokes his fingers down the length of your legs.

He nods, breathless. “Wanna see your face.”

His soft, honest admission makes your heart flutter even as you swear you can feel the arousal thrumming in your veins. You need him, need him so badly you could cry –

With a shift of his hips, Felix lines himself up and pushes into you. He’s agonizingly slow with it, just letting the head split your walls before he drags back out. He’s teasing you, absolutely doing this on purpose, and you can’t handle it. You untangle one hand from the sheets to cling to him, as he just dips the head of his cock in and out of you.

You whimper your frustration, and Felix leans in to kiss your cheeks, your nose, before pushing back in deeper, and deeper again, and finally he’s buried in you to the hilt.

“So gorgeous,” he groans, his deep voice reverbing in his chest, “You’re so good, angel, so good.”

He has one hand gripping your thigh tightly, holding your leg up beside your torso in a position that tests your flexibility more than a little bit. The other hand is digging into the curve of your hip, hard enough that you think there will be bruises.

Felix has those dancers’ hips, and core strength that lets him drive into you like he’s doing now, smooth long strokes that you arch up to meet as well as you can in his grip. He’s holding you at an angle that lets his pelvis grind against your clit every time he bottoms out. It’s not enough stimulation to let you finish, but it’s more than enough to drive you out of your mind.

“Lix, Lix, please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for.

He says something, quiet enough that you can’t really pick it up, and when you move your hand from his dip of his spine to the back of his head, Felix fixes his gaze right on you. He’s still speaking, rambling in his deep voice.  

“-Let a fucking app make you think you’re not perfect cuz their fucking jeans don’t fit you,” he’s saying, “So soft, so pretty, like fuckin’ heaven, look at you.”

You can’t look at yourself all that well, but you can look at Felix, glance down to see the way he’s burying his cock in you again and again, holding himself up to look you in the eye as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Perfect,” he swears, “Taking me like a dream, angel…”

He’s never this vocal, either, and the talk has your head spinning almost as much as the brutal pace he’s maintaining. You can hear the obscene sound of your wetness around him. The desperate, weak first stirrings of an orgasm are starting to creep up on you, but you know yourself. You’re going to need more than this to finish.

Even so, you clench around Felix as he works himself into you again, and again, and he laughs breathlessly at the feeling of it.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” Felix asks, low and sweet.

You shake your head desperately, “Not enough – Lix, please, I need-”

“Not enough?” he echoes, amused, as his hips snap against yours in perfect time, “What, is this not good enough for you, angel?”

“So good, so good, just, please,” you whine.

Felix doesn’t answer you, but he does let go of your leg to bring his fingers up to your face. You’re so far gone, so hazy with lust and the orgasm that’s building but just isn’t close enough, that you barely notice him until his fingers are pressing at your lips.

He has small, beautiful hands, and you open your mouth to let him slip two dainty fingers into your mouth. You suck on the digits, knowing how much Felix likes having your mouth on him, or his on you. He’s not picky, as long as someone is licking, biting, sucking…

“So dirty,” he sighs.

Only for him, you think to yourself. You can’t summon the words to say to him out loud, but you certainly think them. Only for him.

“Don’t hold back on me now, angel,” Felix says.

He retrieves his fingers from your mouth, and snakes his hand down between your bodies to press them feather-light to your clit. You can’t help the gasp that escapes from you as he touches you, gentle and precise. The slide would have been wet and easy enough even without the extra help, but the combination of your saliva and your wetness as it seeps out around Felix’s thick cock makes his fingers glide over your clit with friction so good it’s almost painful.

Under your breath, almost like a prayer, you’re murmuring, chanting, “Please, please, please, please, oh-”

“You first,” he says, “Come on, are you gonna give me one?”

You want to, God, do you want to. You writhe in his hold, torn between rocking away from the steady delicious pressure on your clit and into the press of his cock splitting you open. Felix throws his head back as you tremble around him - your peak is so close you can fucking taste it - and groans.

“Love you,” Felix gasps, “Shit, love you, love your body-”

That’s what does it.

That view, Felix above you, so fucked out, working so hard to make you feel good. Physically and mentally, that’s what he’s trying to do. He saw you being upset for like fifteen minutes the other day and he’s putting in all this effort to build you up. He just wants you to feel good –

“Felix!”

His name passes your lips, just once, before you’re cumming hard with a strangled moan. Felix fucks into you hard once, twice, and then thrusts into you fully with a cry of his own as he cums against your walls. He’s quick to drop down and meet your lips in a messy kiss, pressing your bodies together, skin on skin.

The two of you shudder and murmur your way through your orgasms, as you marvel at how quickly he was able to bring you crashing right over the peak with him.

Once your voice comes back to you, all your can manage is another squeaking, “Felix.”

“Yeah,” he answers, decisive, like you’ve just revealed the secrets of the universe to him. “Yeah.”

He pulls out and gingerly moves off of you, but not without stroking his hands from your waist all the way down your thighs as he goes. You laugh quietly as Felix collapses onto his back beside you, wiping his brow dramatically like he’s just gotten off a hard day at work. His cum begins to drip back out of you as you sit up, which is gross, but you just want to be close to him. You curl against his side, head on his chest, and Felix accommodates you easily, cuddling into you just as eagerly.

As you readjust on the bed, settle into a more comfortable position, you notice the bruises. Tender new bruises on your hip, and along the side of your thigh where Felix had held you so tightly. It’s the perfect shape of his fingertips, fanning out along your skin.

“Jeez,” you murmur, touching the spots and secretly relishing the way they hurt.

“Sorry,” Felix grins, though he doesn’t look very sorry at all. “Just…your thighs. Your body. Love it.”

[jerkbitchidjitassbutt]

It Was You (Part One)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 3371

Series Warnings: break up; angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

The slight chill of a Vancouver December morning roused you from a peaceful sleep, making you snuggle further into the down blanket and comfort of your plush bedding. It was two weeks until Christmas and the weather was supposed to be a balmy high of 32 degrees today, so you had planned to stay in, do some shopping online, and stay by your cozy fireplace with every holiday movie you could find. Willing yourself to get five more minutes of shut eye seemed like a helpless feat as the wintry cold seeped into your apartment. You opened your eyes to the gentle prisms of light floating in through the adjacent window, the sunrise indicating it was time to get up for the day.

Sitting up to perch on the side of your bed and grabbing your wide-rimmed glasses from the nightstand, you slid your chilled toes into the warm slippers waiting and shrugged on your fuzziest sweater. It may be time for that fire sooner than you thought.

Padding into your kitchen to get a much-needed caffeine fix after last night’s dinner and drinks with the rest of the cast and crew, you took your favorite mug from the cabinet and loaded the coffee maker, making an extra cup or two for you and any visitors you might have a bit later.

Jensen’s apartment was down the hall, and if you knew him, he’d still be sleeping, but he’d probably wander over at some point this morning. Cradling the mug in your hands warmed them slightly and sent a shiver down your spine. Even your warmest pajamas and the heat from the thermostat did little against the Canadian winds. Laughing slightly to yourself, you’d thought you’d be used to it after six years of winters here.

You wandered towards the windows of your living room to pull back the long curtains. It was a favorite spot to have your coffee and gaze at the sights of Vancouver. Settling on the window seat, you felt a warmth spread through you as you noticed it had snowed in the night, and from the looks of it, it was a depth of fresh, soft powder – a type that you rarely saw growing up in Texas. People were bundled up tightly as they walked the streets, but a few people, adults and kids alike, were already out playing in the thick blanket of snow.

As your coffee began to warm you through, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of joy that rose at the sight – it made the holiday season and the spirit of it even more intense than just viewing the lights of downtown and the large decorations everywhere. For some reason, snow just sealed it all up in a nice little bow.

Sure enough, about halfway into your second cup of coffee, you heard a key in your door and Jensen shuffled in, still wearing his pj’s with tousled hair, but he had thrown on a thick sweater too.

“Good morning.” You called, still seated at the large window.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” He replied with a quick wave as he tossed his keys on the counter and waltzed into your kitchen in search of his mug, his voice still thick and gruff with sleep.

He mixed his cream and sugar and took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh after the steaming liquid entered his body. He was notoriously grumpy without his coffee, but he always met you with a sweet greeting when he came over. Walking around your kitchen island and into your open living room, he slumped into the recliner across from you and pulled the leaver to release the footing, allowing him to lean back with his feet up. He adjusted himself to get comfortable, careful to not spill the mug in his hand.

“What time did you get in last night?” you asked, taking another sip from your own cup.

He covered his eyes with his free hand, still obviously tired. “About 2:30. You know how Jared gets when we break for hiatus, he never wants the party to end. He was still talking to me as I was shutting my door.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Jared was the most social person you’d ever met and knowing that he wouldn’t be back to Canada and on set for a month, he would always soak up every little bit of time he had with the cast and crew. Even though Jensen was griping about it now, you knew he also didn’t mind. He’d probably be missing everyone, especially Jared, about four days into the break. You didn’t get home until about 1 a.m., and that was only because you were beginning to doze off in your cocktail.

“Tell Cliff thanks again for driving me home last night. I just couldn’t cut it.”

“Yeah, I know… Lightweight.” Jensen teased.

“Hey, you didn’t have a 5 a.m. set call yesterday like some of us.”

Jensen huffed a small laugh from his seat, still resting his hand across his closed eyes. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and his green Henley stretched across his biceps as he rested his coffee on his thigh. A slight 5 o’clock shadow and the bedhead he was sporting all combined into a handsome image. He may be your best friend, but you could still appreciate the looks the man was blessed with.

Seemingly close to falling back asleep, you called to him in a hushed voice, “Jay. If you want to go back to sleep just put your coffee mug on the table, okay?”

“Hmmmph. No, I’m up.” He fibbed, as evident from the way he blinked widely once he opened his eyes again. Forcing himself to stand, otherwise he would really fall back asleep instead of just resting his eyes, he walked towards you with his cup, dragging his feet slightly as his legs sluggishly pulled him across the room. His head was down and his shoulders were wilted, but he was trying to get his body moving.

When he reached you, you felt his chest bump your shoulder before he rested his cheek on the crown of your head, his arm dangling by his side as he slumped. He took a deep breath before rubbing his hand across your back and standing, smiling as you peered up at him with a grin.

Licking his lips, he finally peered out to the streets below and his eyes went wide, “Y/n!” he practically shouted.

You flinched, “What? What’d I do?”

“You didn’t tell me it snowed!”

Giving a huff and a giggle, you couldn’t help but be sarcastic, “I’m sorry, was I supposed to while you were falling asleep in my chair?! Besides… it’s Canada. It’s not like snow is very rare here.”

“Y/n! That’s, like, snow! The kind we used to wish for when we were kids!”

“I know, I thought that too.”

“Well, c’mon!” he said, setting his cup down on the ledge. “We gotta go!”

“What? Go where?”

Jensen was already halfway through your living room and heading for the front door but paused to turn and point a finger in your direction, “You, me, snowman. Now.”

“Jay,” You whined. “It’s cold and its early. You sure you don’t want to just watch Netflix?”

“Y/n!” he said once again, looking as excited as a 12-year-old on a snow day from school. “Snowman! Please?” he begged, waving his arms frantically as he gestured outside.

“Okay, okay. Fine. No need to use your puppy eyes on me. I’ll meet you outside in 15 minutes.”

With that, a huge grin broke out on his face and he took off down the hall, leaving you to go in search of your heaviest ski jacket.

Jensen knocked on your door soon after you shrugged into the puffy coat, dressed in thick snow pants, his own jacket, and a black beanie and gloves with a small bag in his hand. Straitening your scarf before locking your door, he barely gave you a moment to put on your knitted pom beanie before he was pulling you by your hand towards the elevator of your building and pushing you out of the revolving doors into the frigid air. Heading to the side where a large park sat adjacent to your complex, he looked around before tugging you along to a spot with a large open space. He nodded to himself, as if to say he’d found the perfect place for his snowman-building escapade. As your boots crunched beneath you, you each began gathering handfuls of snow to make a large base, then packed and sculpted two more spheres. Though you initially protested, you had to admit that it was fun, and the coldness against your cheeks wasn’t bad after a bit, particularly after seeing how happy Jensen was when his finished product towered over yours. He’d managed to gather the majority of the snow within about a six-foot radius of where his snowman stood before piling it high.

“Hey, hey… look at that. An accurate height difference!” He touted, teasing you.

“Oh, hush you. It’s not my fault that you were given the extended version of the human body.” You glared at him playfully.

He laughed as he bent to rummage in the bag he’d brought, producing two carrots. He wiggled them in his hands before handing one to you. He was just about to place it in a very telling place when you grabbed a handful of snow and threw it in his direction.

“Jensen!” You berated. “That’s not where the carrot goes! There’s kids out here!”

He stood up slowly, turning to you with a serious smirk, “Did you seriously just throw a snowball at me?”

Wiping your hand on your pantleg quickly, you gave him a mischievous grin, “Who, me? I’d never.”

“Oh, its on!” he declared as he bent to scoop up the little bit of remaining snow in his reach, that which he hadn’t used for his snowman.

Ducking behind your own, he threw and missed, sending the snow flying passed you. A quick grab from around you produced another snowball that you chucked from behind your shield, hitting him square in the chest. The fight lasted for a good while, the two of you trying your hardest to target the other as many times as possible and receiving some laughs and glances from passersby as they walked along the sidewalk. Finally, Jensen gave up and took off towards you, chasing you in circles before he tackled you into the plush ice, pinning you beneath him as he tried to bury you both.

“Jay! Oh my God, stop! Its freezing!” you yelled through your laughter.

“Truce?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in a challenge.

He was still on top of you, his nose and cheeks a bit flushed from the wintry air. He still had that devilish smirk on his face, but his green eyes were soft and something beneath them made your heart flutter slightly in your chest. He scanned your face quickly before glancing towards your lips, but you were quick to snatch another fistful of snow to smash onto his head. Scrambling out from underneath him, you ran as he said something about you being a cheater before he jumped to his feet.

After the war ended and a truce was finally declared, you both put the finishing touches on your snowmen after you found sticks for the arms and coerced Jensen to put the carrot in the right spot. He stood back proudly, admiring your handiwork.

“Hey.” He gestured to you, “C’mere.”

A bit warry that he was going to tackle you again, you came to his side as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and turned on the camera. Pulling you into him, he said, “Gotta have evidence of our masterpieces.” He reached around your waist and tugged you in close, framing both of you and your snowmen in the background. The cold air made the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks change in color, and there was still some snow in your hair from when Jensen wrestled you, but both of you smiled widely. Feeling the scruff of his short beard against your temple and his arms wrapped around you made you think about the way his eyes danced across your face moments ago, but the thought was quickly dismissed as he stepped away from you slightly after he made sure the picture wasn’t too blurry.

“Oh, crap. Is that what time it is?” he said, alarmed, looking at his phone screen. “I have to meet Stacy in an hour.”

Stacy was his publicist and agent, but he usually didn’t meet with her during the hiatus. “You’re meeting Stacy today? What’s up?” you asked, a bit confused.

“She wants to talk to me about this movie. Some sort of romantic drama she thought I may be good for.”

“Oh,” you replied, “that’s great! You didn’t tell me! Would you have to cut back filming the show?” While you were a bit surprised, you were genuinely happy for him.

“Stacy knows Supernatural comes first, so I hope not.”

“Well, let’s get inside so you can warm up and change. I was going to make my mom’s chili and cornbread for dinner tonight, if you want to join me after your meeting.”

The excitement on his face was palpable as his eyes lit up the moment you said it, “You know how much I love your mom’s chili. We’re just meeting for coffee near her office, so I’ll bring the beer.”

As you were walking back into the building, your phone rang. It was Stephen, your boyfriend of three months.

“Stephen, hey.” You said as you entered the elevator, not missing the slight eyeroll that Jensen gave.

“Hey, honey. How are you? I didn’t want to call too early, just in case you were still sleeping after last night.”

“I’m good, thanks. Actually, just got done building a snowman with Jensen.”

A short silence followed, until Stephen spoke up again. “Oh, that’s nice.” He said, his voice noticeably clipped. “Well, I’m going to take my lunch break soon. Would you like to meet up? I can come to your side of town.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll meet you at that café on 3rd in about a half an hour?”

“Sounds great. See you there.”

Shoving your phone back in your pocket, you ignore Jensen’s stare as the elevator climbed to your floor.

“So…” he pressed. “Stephen?”

“Yeah, Stephen. We’re going to meet up for lunch while you have your meeting.”

“Hmph.” He huffed.

“Jay, we’ve known each other our whole lives and to this day you’ve never liked a single guy I’ve ever dated. What’s wrong with Stephen?”

“I don’t know. He’s just kind of… meh.”

He wasn’t lying, if you were being truthful. Stephen was meh. He was cute and had nice eyes and dimples, but he didn’t make you laugh. He was a bit dull and your sense of humor didn’t mesh with his well. Still, you thought that it might get a bit better once you got to know each other and began to understand one another more. Your relationship was still very casual, but maybe it could go further? You weren’t really sure, honestly.

“What about you and Laura?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.

“I told you… that was nothing.” He quipped as you reached your door. “We went on like three dates.”

“Yeah, the last one being just this past week.”

“Yeah, and it just didn’t go well.”

You let out a small sigh. Discussing your dating lives wasn’t really something the two of you loved to do with each other. Maybe when you were teenagers, yeah. You’d asked each other for advice and gossiped a bit about the people in your high school, but as you grew into adults it just became a subject you both steered away from besides the occasional, hey I’ve got a date conversation. Neither of you had ever really found a person that the other approved of, each finding a reason to be picky every time.

“I’m sorry, Jay. I’m just deflecting.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I was pushing.” He said sincerely with a small smile. “Well, you enjoy lunch. My meeting’s at 1:30 across town, so I should be back by 4 at the latest. Pick out a movie for us, okay?”

“Sounds great. I will.” With that, he kissed you quickly on the side of your head and went into his apartment as you ducked into yours. You freshened up quickly and changed, grabbing a different peacoat, hat, and scarf as your others were still wet.

It was a short walk to the café, and they had good sandwiches. You were surprisingly hungry, so you were glad to see Stephen waiting outside for you. He gripped your hand tightly and gave you a quick kiss in greeting before leading you into the restaurant. You were seated and ordered quickly, knowing that he would have to return to work soon.

“So, how has your day been?” You asked as you shrugged off your coat, hanging it on the chair behind you.

“It’s been… good.” He muttered.

“Uh oh,” You said, getting his attention as he looked away from you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really. I was just surprised to hear that you were with Jensen today. You had mentioned you were going to stay home.”

Stephen smiled, almost in an attempt to let you know that he was trying to be lighthearted about it, but you could tell it bothered him.

“Yeah, when he saw it snowed last night, he just really wanted to make a snowman.” You laughed, trying to steer away from the subject. Stephan wasn’t overstepping, but he also wasn’t going to prevent you from spending time with Jensen. The two of you had been inseparable since, well, practically since birth. Your parents had been the best of friends, so you were pretty much raised together.

“Have you, um…” Stephen began, hesitantly. “I know you’ve been friends forever, but have you ever had feelings for him?”

His blue eyes shown with a slight jealousy as you felt a slight pang to your heart.

“No, of course not.” You managed to say with a steady voice and a smile as you picked up your napkin to place in your lap.

It was a lie, one that you’d been telling for years. At one point in your life, you were in love with Jensen. But, the past was in the past. If Jensen didn’t even know, why should Stephen?

Stephen seemed satisfied with your response for the most part, and the two of you had a pleasant lunch. When you stepped away to use the restroom, your phone chimed. Stephen tried not to even look towards your side of the table where your phone sat, but when he saw Jensen’s name, he read the text quickly before the screen dimmed.

Hey, sweetheart. Finishing up here soon and then I’ll be heading home. Do you need me to grab anything from the store?

Stephen knew the two of you were a package deal, and thought he could honestly be alright with it, but between working together and spending practically all of your time together, he was starting to wonder where he fit in in your life. He busied himself by checking his Instagram as he thought about what he should do and found that Jensen had tagged you in a photo from this morning. The caption was simple, just a few words about the filming hiatus and the first snow of the season, but the two of you were so close. Stephen found himself wishing that you could reserve a smile like that for him, but he had yet to see it.

It hurt, but he knew he couldn’t play second fiddle to Jensen. He cared about you, but perhaps it was better to bow out now.

“Hey, sorry about that.” You said brightly as you got back to the table, smiling. It still didn’t reach your eyes, though.

Stephen leaned forward on his elbows with a sigh, “Y/n, I think we should talk.”

To be continued...

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Jensen Only

@mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​

[sarahlynnirl]

Losing my best friend - Sugar Daddy culture is not empowering

I finally feel strong enough to talk about this and hopefully get some love, support, and reassurance from other women who agree that this is fucked up. I’ve never been “terfy on main” before so here goes. (TW child abuse + SA but no graphic descriptions of SA)

My mother is a narcissist who financially and emotionally abused my father and myself, with some additional physical abuse of me, for as long as I can remember. My dad made plenty of money but my mom controlled it all and made sure it didn’t go towards anything for me beyond the bare minimum required not to look obviously guilty of child abuse and neglect. I met Kiara (not her real name) when I was a junior in highschool and she was a freshman. Her mom was a single Korean woman doing her best to support Kiara and her 2 sisters while also running a Korean restaurant. My first jobs were a summer camp counselor and fitting room attendant at Forever 21. I would spend the last scraps of my paycheck making sure Kiara was able to order a full meal when our friends went out to dinner, buying her little gifts, and generally trying to keep us both as happy and healthy as possible.

When Kiara graduated highschool her mom drove her into Koreatown New Jersey, got her a room in the apartment of an acquaintance, and basically left her to fend for herself. Kiara spoke barely any Korean. She began working at a Korean salon where she met Ariana (not her real name). She had a NY cosmetology license, not an NJ one, while Ariana was an illegal immigrant from Korea so they were both overworked, underpaid, forced to work overtime, paid under minimum wage, and deprived of their tips. They couldn’t report or complain about this since they were both working illegally.

Kiara had to pay rent for the one room she occupied despite her land lady yelling at her, walking into her room while she slept, banning her from having friends over, and reporting to her mom if she spoke to a guy on the phone or a guy dropped her off. I was working at a restaurant in my college town on top of my classes and doing my best to keep surprising her with little gifts, but neither of us had enough disposable income to afford to visit each other. This was really difficult for me as she was my favorite person in the world and I was used to spending every second with her when we both lived in upstate NY. Ariana got them both to start using SeekingArrangement for one time meet ups with Sugar Daddies where they were paid anywhere from $200-2000 for sex. “The first time I ever did it I walked out of the hotel and just screamed because I was so disgusted and I was thinking about his wrinkly skin touching mine and all I wanted to do was get in the shower and scrub it off but I had $1000 cash in my hand for a couple hours of work which was so crazy and kinda made it all worth it ya know?” - Ariana to me

I was immediately skeptical and a little grossed out but Kiara genuinely seemed happier. She was buying new clothes for herself, ordering food to the apartment when she was hungry, and taking trips into NYC to have fun with Ariana and her friends. By the beginning of the summer of 2019, Kiara had found the Sugar Daddy who she would establish a long term agreement with and who ultimately ended up completely supporting her. I’m not going to say his name here but if people want to know it just ask, I am willing to share. He moved her into a much nicer much bigger apartment with Ariana as her roommate. He paid for me to fly up and visit her, and all of our activities during this vacation. I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry. I wish I shoved the money back in her hand before it was too late, I wish I worked harder and longer hours and got us an apartment in Florida and paid both of our rent. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t listen to my instincts and allowed her to brush off my concerns. It was the most freedom we had ever had, I ran around NYC by myself while she was at work, and my ex took the bus to NJ from upstate NY and joined us for a few days. I feel so selfish but I also didn’t know how bad things would get.

One night Kiara and I went to NYC for dinner with her SD and she took the bus back to the apartment because she had to work early the next morning. It made sense for me to stay in the city because I was supposed to visit my friend at NYU the next morning. In the Uber to his apartment alone with him he was drunk and high and I very clearly looked scared shitless. At this point she was 19 (but she had looked that way since age 17 and I doubt he would have minded if she was lying about her age), I was 21 and he was 44. He seemed offended by my discomfort and was basically like “jeez relax I’m not gonna touch you, I really care about Kiara I think she’s so amazing, just go to the guest room and sleep, make a left to walk to NYU when you wake up.” I peaced the fuck out of there early the next morning.

After that summer Kiara and Ariana quit their jobs at the Korean salon and sugaring became their sole incomes. Ariana was still doing one time meet ups, not nearly as financially stable as Kiara, and got herself into a lot of credit card debt that to my knowledge she’s still in. At this point Kiara was flying down and staying with me in Florida so often that people at my college thought she went there too. I also wasn’t working at this point because college had gotten harder and my ex was fucking up my mental health real bad. He had given me a coke problem and Kiara sending me “grocery money” was enabling me to continue. I wasn’t honest with her about where all the money was going. During Halloween week we didn’t know that she couldn’t just snort molly (MDMA) with the frequency I was doing coke, she ODed, my guy best friend took us to the ER, it was so fucking scary, she got IV fluids for 2 hours and made a full recovery, she stopped doing molly, I kept doing coke. I’m so sorry :(

In November her SD paid for us to take a trip to Cancun Mexico. He was with us for the first part of the trip and this is where things started to get really bad. He tried to be my friend and act the way a boyfriend of my best friend who was my age would, but it was creepy and wrong and I was so uncomfortable. He asked about my drug use in a way that was gross and shamey and basically him seeing me as the “coke whore” stereotype...while continuing to buy me more coke. He also brought and gave us ecstasy pills. He asked really invasive questions about my relationship with my ex, why I stayed, my sex life, etc. It felt like an uncle asking me these questions, I did NOT wanna talk about any of this with him. But from what I did say it was very clear to someone with 44 years of life experience that I had an abusive mother, an addictive personality, and was in an unhealthy relationship. He offered to set me up with an SD friend of his looking for a sugar baby. I of course declined because I always knew this was a boundary I wasn’t willing to cross. No matter how bad my addictions got I would NOT give up that piece of myself in return for money.

In this part of Mexico, drugs that were only given with a prescription in the US were available over the counter. Kiara and I got a little box of 1mg Xanax with my money. My ex had given us Xanax a couple times in NY and we had fun with it, but at this point in time we did NOT have a problem with it. We had bought one bar, broken it in half, and each took half one night of Halloween week and called it “xanpires”, but this wasn’t something we were scripted or buying regularly from plugs. We went to dinner with her SD, we got up to go to the bathroom, and she immediately slipped and hit the ground. I was like woah did you take one of the xans and forget? Because we were supposed to tell each other if we were taking one so we could look out for each other. I was never mad at her! I never wanted money from her! I was just a little concerned, and once I determined that she was safe we thought it was kinda funny that she had taken a xan without realizing and started joking around about it. Her SD of course didn’t understand how a 19 year old and 21 year old girl joke with each other because he was a creepy old man, decided that we were “arguing”, and got up from the restaurant, walked across the street, bought a 90 count bottle of 2mg xans and gave it to me. This was honestly the most irresponsible way someone has ever treated me in my life, and this is coming from someone with an abusive and neglectful parent. Google “benzo withdrawal” if you’re not familiar with it.

We went to a different hotel, and Kiara and I both took xans and blacked out. I passed out on the guest bed, while Kiara was awake but in a conscious blackout. I woke up on the couch on the balcony (which was fine, it was comfy and I saw the sunrise over the beach. The gross part was that meant her SD had picked me up, put his hands on my body while I was unconscious and carried me out there). I remembered that at one point I had woken up, wanted to go to the bathroom or get something from inside, caught a glimpse of what I thought was them having sex, and went back outside. I mentioned it to Kiara and she had no memory of it whatsoever, she thought all she had done was gone to sleep. She was rightfully pissed the fuck off that her SD had taken advantage and done things with her while she was blacked, screamed at him, he gave us a half ass apology, and bought us more stuff (buying our silence). He finally flew home and we got to enjoy the trip with just each other, but I was careless with the dosage of a drug called tramadol, and I ODed with my head in her lap...I’m sorry. When I woke up I was hallucinating, hearing voices, crying hysterically and terrified. Kiara called my ex who asked how many mg I took, told us I was 100mg short of the amount that would require medical attention, made me laugh, and told me to go to sleep. I recognize how scary and unfair to her this was and I really do take responsibility for my actions. The day I was supposed to leave I did ecstasy, hooked up with a guy from Canada, and tried to skip my flight. She was mad because like yeah what the fuck. She got me on the flight, the ecstasy comedown hit, and there’s pictures of me crying in the airport because I hated when we fought.

I was supposed to stop in Miami, then fly back to my college town but while in Miami I texted my granny that I was “sad and really didn’t feel good and could she and my uncle visit me at the airport and bring my uncles dog?”. Her parenting instincts went off that something was very wrong, made me skip the flight, picked me up from the airport and took me to her house where I immediately threw up and ran an extremely high fever that night. She said it was one of the scariest nights of her life and she kept checking on me to see if I needed to go to the hospital. She drove me back to my college town where my guy best friend took me to the ER and it came out that Kiaras SD, in addition to giving me drugs, had also allowed me to drink Mexican tap water throughout the entire trip. I was treated for that + given chlamydia meds just in case since I’d had unprotected sex in a foreign country. I was fine, promised to do better, Kiara forgave me, things started to go back to normal. Except I had begun taking Xanax daily to deal with the anxiety of the illness...and she had a trip to Bali planned.

During that trip things managed to get even worse. She was there with her SD and another Korean friend and her SD was pressuring her and guilting her into sex, isolating her from her friend, going through her phone, and becoming extremely aggressive. She would call me crying and having panic attacks and I would walk out of class to try to comfort her over FaceTime. She did not have panic attacks before this trip. She begged to go home early because something was very wrong but he said it was a waste of money and kept her in Bali until the planned end of the trip. I think it was almost a month. She sent me a recording she secretly took of him screaming at her and her saying “don’t touch me, don’t grab me like that, leave me alone”. When she got back to the US I was begging her to stop. I was so worried for her safety. I said the money wasn’t worth it, we’ll get jobs, please just stop. I’m pretty sure he read those messages. We also had a suspicion that he had installed spyware on her phone but were never able to prove it. At this point I also reached out to my dad for help and his response was basically “I don’t care, not my problem, focus on school”. I reached out to my granny who absolutely cared, but her response was “I’m sorry but I can’t afford to support her, I have to focus on taking care of you, if she won’t stop this you’ll have to stop being friends with her”.

I went home to New York for winter break, suffered through my first round of Xanax withdrawal and was truly trying to get better but my ex manipulated his was back in my life and got me addicted again....but now this bottle of 90 had run out. I went back to my college town, got scripted, and was copping street bars when my script inevitably ran out early. What comes next is blurry for obvious reasons. We moved to the town in Florida my granny lived in and got an apartment together. The female friends she made in our town (my current home) she got most of them into sugaring and using SeekingArrangement. Things deteriorated super fast at this point. I was struggling hard, failing my online classes, and eventually got completely financially cut off by my parents. My granny was paying my half of the rent and my puppy’s vet bills but I was too embarrassed to admit I couldn’t afford groceries. Kiara was pressuring me hard to go on SeekingArrangement but I still refused. I would sit on the floor of the bathroom in a towel after I showered and just cry because the steam made me nauseous and dizzy since I wasn’t eating.

I met my current boyfriend and something just started to click: I didn’t wanna live like this anymore. The mom of a friend from this town who also refuses to sugar landed me an interview at the gym I currently work at, I fought for the job, and I got it. Now I knew I didn’t wanna be completely fucked up all the time anymore but I was still doing enough Xanax to keep me out of withdrawal. The 2mg that had blacked me out at the beginning were now just barely enough to keep me functional. Kiara and I were fighting frequently and bad by this time. She and her partner in sugaring, Mena (not her real name but pretty close to it, fuck this bitch fr) were expecting me to keep how they made their money a secret....from friends and guys that I saw every single day. They both very obviously did not work and were flexing new cars, designer clothes, and cash all over their social media. Kiara thought she could cover her ass by saying she dealt drugs but it was also obvious that she wasn’t putting the time into that to come up with the amount of money she had. The only one dealing drugs was me, and not enough to do anything flashy, just enough that in addition to my work money I was usually getting enough to eat. But there were still some times when the previous weeks paycheck had run out and I was having my first meal of the day at 3pm after someone had bought adderall from me. We had our serious serious fight where she threw my stuff in the lawn and I lived with my current boyfriend full time for about a couple weeks since my bedroom at my granny’s was getting refloored when this happened.

By January 20th he was concerned by my Xanax problem and wanted me to seriously try to stop. At the time I started tapering because I wanted the girlfriend title but I’m forever grateful for him giving me a reason, even if it was a shallow one, because I just needed to START. We tried to reconcile once, despite boyfriend and guy best friend begging me not to, and of course the same problems reappeared, we had another serious fight and haven’t spoken since.

Now the fog is clearing and today I’m 96 days clean of xanax, 16 days clean of all benzos, and 19 days clean of gabapentin (what was keeping me from having a seizure while quitting benzos). But it’s hard because being out of the fog means feeling all of my emotions, even the really bad ones. This past week I’ve been waking up and crying sitting in front of my mirror trying to put my makeup on for work and it just drips right off and I have to start over. She was my best friend for 8 years. My favorite person. My partner in life. I loved her more than anyone.

My boyfriend and guy best friend are pretty uncomfortable when they hear someone express an opinion of me that’s “Kiara’s side of the story” and I don’t correct it. Both of them saw exactly how bad it got near the very end and don’t get why I don’t defend myself more or tell people about her letting my dog eat dab (THC) wax while she was supposed to be watching her and having to be rushed to the animal hospital TWO separate times. (She’s a Pomeranian and the highly concentrated THC was super dangerous to her tiny little body). Yelling at me and giving me the silent treatment because less than 48 hours after my SA she expected me to drive her to a hair appointment in Miami and I woke up late and didn’t get her there on time with traffic. Me begging her to be there for me when it felt like everything was falling apart and I self harmed for the first time and her leaving me to go on a vacation to Orlando with a girl we didn’t even really like. Me not wanting to sleep in the apartment alone after my SA and her not letting me sleep in her bed anymore, her and Mena just dumping me at the neighbor’s so they could continue to sugar, party, and see guys our age at night (this sounds super awful but neighbors roommate —> current boyfriend. He kept me safe until I felt better, was really sweet and careful, and I was the one to make the first move). There’s more but I really don’t like talking about it, after the abuse she went through and I assume is still going through, I expect her to be pretty damaged and not have it in her to treat people right all the time. Not exposing every bad thing she’s ever done to all our mutual friends and acquaintances is kind of my last gift to her.

I also admit that sugaring wasn’t responsible for everything that went wrong. Loving an addict is difficult and exhausting and I went through it myself with my ex. I was also out bi and she was “probably straight, maybe a little bi-curious” in her words. But when she was drunk or on Xanax she’d kiss me first...we had done more than kiss but only during 3somes with a guy. I don’t know, I think I loved her more than I was supposed to and some of the stuff she’d say made me think she saw me in a way she really didn’t. When we first moved to this town I had a thing with a girl and expected it to be no big deal but things here were different than up north. I got called the d slur for the first time by someone who wasn’t joking. It was like getting slapped I was so shocked and hurt, I truly didn’t think that happened anymore. I think she saw what happened to me and kinda closed off that part of herself because she didn’t wanna experience that herself. She stopped making out with me at bars and parties after that and it made me sad and maybe a little jealous. But I really do blame her SD for basically “breaking her”, for handing me that first bottle of free Xanax, for a lot of other little things that I can’t possibly include because this is already way too long. This is my first time even saying this much. Feel free to add your own experiences or thoughts on this or anything you’d like. [I’m prepared to get death threats or called a SWERF or whatever but I don’t care, now that I started talking about this I’m not going to stop.]

[jjmaybud]

sunrise | drew starkey

summary: you get a job writing for outer banks and get close to the cast, one more than the others.

pairing(s): drew starkey x fem!reader, fem!reader x platonic!outer banks cast, fem!reader x little!brother

word count: 3.36k

warning(s): fluff, swearing, alcohol use.

author’s note: I had the cutest idea when I was taking a power nap. this is my first time writing an imagine as well as my first time posting something like it on tumblr. I hope you like it. (Y/B/N=your brother’s name.)

It was your first day on the set of Outer Banks. You had already got through the hard part of working with the original writers on the script for the new season. You were quite young compared to the other writers, being in your early to mid-twenties, and the only woman. You were pretty stunned that you had gotten a call about their wanting your creative insights.

You had already met the cast and loved every single one of them. Since you were now a writer, you were present during their script reading and offered help when it was needed. Each member treated you with love and respect, and you loved that you were able to fit right in. Madison Bailey made sure to come up to congratulate you on landing the job because “we needed a female perspective too, fuck the patriarchy.” The both of you high fived because, hell yeah, girl power.

You intently watched as each actor read through their script. The chemistry between each of them was magical, and you couldn’t believe you were able to witness it first hand. As your eyes scanned the room, you’d make the occasional eye contact with Drew Starkey, the actor who played Rafe Cameron. A shared, polite smile came from the both of you each time you noticed your eyes locked.

Drew proved easily that he was nothing like his character, not that you thought he was, by coming up to you directly after the reading was over to introduce himself.

He held out his hand and stated his name. You took his hand in yours, giving him a firm handshake and noticing how warm his hand was without the sweat or claminess.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself in turn, even though he already knew who you were from the beginning of the meeting when they introduced you. “I’ve seen a few of your other works, too. I think you are a perfect cast for Rafe.”

A modest blush appeared on his cheeks as he grinned. The conversation went on a few more moments, but there were a couple other cast members who wanted to get a few words in with you.

Now, you were standing on set, watching Rudy and Madison shoot a particularly serious scene that you had a good hand in writing. Rudy’s character, JJ, was talking about the reality of being a Pogue. That you were born poor and eventually died poor. That the gold was his chance to not die living the same life he’s always had. The sun was setting, and it would add to the dramatic effect of his words cinematically. JJ’s monologue hit close to home, as it did when you wrote it, and you had to walk away to have a moment.

Drew’s scene had just wrapped, and he was done for the day. He found you walking past where the scene had taken place and watched you step up on a sandbank to get on higher ground, making sure you weren’t in anyone’s way. As the day’s final rays of sunshine slowly disappeared, he saw your left hand in the air to hold onto it for as long as you could before it was gone and it was left lighting up the rest of the sky in an orange hue. Your hand fell and both of them placed themselves on your jean cladded hip. He didn’t know how you were handling the heat in jeans even though they had large rips in the front. The peach colored tank top was the only thing that made sense. Your head fell back with your eyes closed, and he could hear the sigh from where he was standing.

It dawned on him that he was staring at you.

To make it less awkward, he made his way up the sandbank to stand next to you. He noticed the sweat and realized you actually weren’t handling the heat as well as he thought. When he noticed the tear in the corner of your eye, he looked out towards the horizon respectfully. He watched as boats were sailing back to shore from their day’s worth of fun in the ocean and as lights flickered on along the boardwalks.

You knew someone was standing beside you as you had your moment. Their arm brushed your elbow in the humid air when they first came up to you. You could smell their cologne and deduced that it was Drew. Somehow, from the first time you had met, you stored the way he smelt in the back of your mind. It was quiet as a small breeze picked up, blowing the hairs that had escaped from your ponytail and the sand stuck to your exposed legs. It did little to cool the two of you down.

You knew he was waiting for you to speak, not wanting to intrude on your moment of solitude.

“I grew up poor in a small, middle-class town in the middle of corn fields,” you began, not opening your eyes or lifting your head. You could feel Drew’s eyes on the side of your face as you confessed your change of mood. You were ecstatic to be where you were, working alongside great writers, directors, and actors, and had the same energy all throughout the day. No matter what was thrown at you—a scene didn’t work the way you thought, a scene needed to be added to smooth out some awkward cuts between other scenes, an actor needed help getting to the frame of mind the scene needed—you took it in strides and was up for the challenge. “Dreaming is the only way to get out of there. And I did. I dreamed of all the ways I could get out of that stupid town. Picked something I was good at. Stuck with it. Stayed angry until I made it. And today—”

You opened your eyes and turned to look into Drew’s. You managed to keep eye contact for a few moments before you got too shy and turned to look at the cast and crew milling about.

“Watching Rudy do his scene made me realize—”

“You made it,” Drew interrupted, making you turn back to him. Tears gathered in your eyes, and his facial expressions softened.

You nod, “And I don’t have to be angry anymore.”

You started to laugh and wiped the tears away as best as you could, but the gates had opened. Drew aw’d and pulled you into his chest while wrapping his arms around your shoulders despite the heat.

“Group hug?” You heard Rudy yell. The sound of his feet scraping against pavement before silence as he trudged up the sandbank and wrapped his arms around you and Drew. “Group hug, everybody!”

You turned your head in time to see Chase, Madelyn, Madison, and JD racing towards the three of you—the other cast members were either already in their trailers or gone for the day. You felt Rudy lay his head between the top of yours and Drew’s chest, humming in satisfaction. Madelyn beat the other three, and she found the perfect spot on your other side, laying her head on Drew’s arm and looking down at you with a smile. You smiled back at her but was blocked from seeing where everyone else had ended up.

After enough seconds passed where you were sweating worse than before, JD asked from behind you, “Why are we group hugging?”

“I have no idea. I saw Drew and Y/N start it,” Rudy answered.

You catch Madelyn wiggling her eyebrows causing you to laugh.

Drew cleared up the confusion and said, “She had the moment.”

A chorus of “ah’s” erupted through the group, and you sunk deeper into Drew’s chest. Heat swam from your neck up into your cheeks, and it wasn’t because of the weather.

“Don’t worry,” Chase said from somewhere behind Rudy. “We all had that moment at some point.”

A few more seconds passed of you being sandwiched between everyone’s sweaty bodies before you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, alright. I can’t do it. I’m going to sweat my skin off if we keep touching each other,” you announced. Everyone was thankful for your outburst as they quickly pulled away and tried to air themselves out. Your hands went to your chest as you tried to wipe away the excess sweat build up. You saw Drew tugging his shirt open and close to air out his chest, and that’s when you noticed the cleavage shaped sweat spot on his shirt. “Oh, shit. You don’t have any more scenes today, do you?”

You started to quietly laugh as you grabbed his shirt to inspect the mark you made. Your eyes turned up to look him in the face and found a smile on his face as he looked down on you. You felt your cheeks heat up once again.

“Nope, you got lucky. You would’ve had to explain to wardrobe why I had to change my shirt.”

You tried to shove him away, but he only budged a little and that was just because of the unstable sand beneath the two of you.

∴∵∴∵∴∵∴

“Okay, what are the rules?” You asked your little brother as you prepared to host the cast at your apartment. It was one of the few weekends where the cast and the crew had a few days off to recuperate. Your teenage brother had been begging to come down to meet the cast and see how his favorite show was being made since he found out you would not only be writing for the new season but on set of filming.

“Don’t be weird, and don’t hit on the girls.”

“Good.” You grabbed an oven mitt and reached into the oven to pull out the pig-in-a-blanket you’d made for the get together. As you were doing this, there was a knock on the door. “Y/B/N, could you get that?”

You put the pan on the stove as your brother opened the door. You heard your friends before you saw them. Cheers erupted from them as they saw your brother and a mixture of handshaking and hugging went around as they shuffled in.

Drew was one of the first inside your apartment. He was wearing a grey sweatshirt and jeans in the cool, air conditioned apartment complex. In his hand was a six pack of beer, and he looked around for the kitchen before laying his eyes on you. A smile broke out on both of your faces as your eyes met.

Over the month of shooting, the two of you had been getting closer. You had exchanged numbers with most of the cast, but he was the only one you had been texting every day. Most of it was what you considered harmless flirting as you sent cheesy pickup lines, memes, and song suggestions, but you didn’t really know where your relationship with him was heading. You wanted to keep it professional, but you couldn’t deny what your heart was telling you.

The both of you stepped towards each other.

“Hey, Y/N. Thought you said your little brother was coming to town?” Drew teased, pointing out the fact that your little brother was, in fact, closer to Drew’s size than your own.

You stood up straighter and stood on the tips of your toes as you flexed your exposed arms to seem bigger.

“What do you mean? Can’t you tell I’m bigger?” You kept this up until you were able to chest bump him. It hurt you more than it did him. The sound of your laughs rumbled through each other’s chest as you hugged. It didn’t slip your mind how much closer your lips were when you stood on your tiptoes.

The night went on, more drinks went around, games were played—including a game of monopoly split up so it was girls vs pogues vs kooks where they were trying to see who was actually better at handling money. The girls won. You sat near Drew, and there were enough “accidental” touches that your little brother, who was sitting diagonal from you by Deion and Madelyn, was picking up on the vibe that he had not been aware of beforehand.

It was going on four in the morning before you noticed that your little brother was slumped into the chair he was sitting on, his head bobbed with sleep. The group lost Deion, Austin, and Madison, but everyone else was still going pretty hard. Drew’s participation in the group’s discussion got quieter, but you could tell it was because his eyes were getting heavier as he sunk further into the couch. You finished the rest of your beer before standing up to convince your brother to move to your bedroom. It wouldn’t hurt for you to sleep on the couch or the floor.

When you came back, the energy of the group died down as they realized just how tired they were as well.

“Damn, four in the morning. You know how to throw a party, Y/L/N,” Chase said as he pulled Madelyn up off the floor. JD was at the door trying to pull on his shoes while standing up but kept losing his balance. Eventually, he just gave up. Rudy was passed out in between the couch and the coffee table with half of his body under the table. Drew’s eyes were closed, his hands clasped on his stomach, and his feet planted on the floor with Rudy’s legs under him.

“And we didn’t even have to leave the building,” you laughed. You hugged the three friends as they were the only ones prepared to leave—with the exception of JD who decided to just carry his shoes. Once they left your apartment, you stumbled in your slightly intoxicated state to the coffee table and picked up all the empty beer bottles. As quietly as you could, you dumped the trash in the garbage can before getting into the fridge to grab yourself another beer.

You walked over to the door leading to your balcony. The beer in your hand almost slipped out of your grip when you heard Drew’s voice from behind you.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice soft but still too loud in the quiet room.

“I’m gonna drink one more out on the balcony. Wanna come?”

It took him a second, but he eventually nodded his head and prepared to lift himself without waking Rudy. When he was finally on his feet, he stumbled slightly making you laugh quietly. A tired smile played on his lips at the sound. You held the door open for him before sitting down on the bench pressed against the window on your small balcony. Drew sat down next to you and allowed you to rest your legs over his lap. His hands found your bare calves, and he rubbed his thumbs on the exposed skin. You opened your beer and sipped it as you stared out to the dark sky. It was a comfortable silence until Drew noticed the little chill tremors shooting through your body.

“Cold?” You nodded which prompted him to pull off his grey sweatshirt to give to you.

“You don’t—” Your words stop in your throat as he holds the sweatshirt out to you. You sit up and hand him your beer to hold as you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It was a great deal larger than you, and your hands swam in the sleeves, but you loved the way his cologne engulfed you.

After you were situated back with your drink, Drew said, “Your brother’s cool.”

You smiled, “Yeah?” He nodded. “I told him not to be weird. He’s a big fan of the show.”

Drew smiled a dopey smile and teased, “Turns out he ain’t the only one.” Your brows furrowed in confusion which only made him smile bigger. “You were quoting Outer Banks the entire night.”

Your eyes widened, “I didn’t!”

He laughed out loud and nodded his head, “You did. No one really noticed because we do it too sometimes.”

There’s a pause before you deadpan, “I must’ve been under duress.”

He threw his head back this time as he laughed and you giggled watching him. The banter went back and forth effortlessly as time went on, and Drew’s hand had made its way up to your knee. You noticed the sky was lighting up from the pitch black it had been.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen an actual sunrise,” you admitted, taking the last sip of your bottle and placed it on the ground.

“How is that?”

You shrugged, “I mean technically I’ve never seen it rise from the horizon. I always had too many trees in the way.”

It was quiet for a few minutes as you watched the sky become brighter and brighter. You really wouldn’t be able to see the sunrise from here either. Your apartment faced the wrong way.

“The beach is just down the street,” Drew pointed out. “We could get there before sunrise.”

“Really?” Drew nodded.

The next thing you knew, the two of you were racing down the street in order to beat the sun. The two of you giggling as you more so than Drew stumbled down the street. Laughs filled the air as you launched yourself over a bench to land on the sandy beach. The sky was much brighter, and there was only a few minutes left before the sun would be peeking over the Atlantic Ocean. The breeze was cooler in the morning, and you turned into Drew’s side to keep yourself warm, holding his arm close to your body.

The first rays of sun poked through and all thoughts of your warmth washed away from your mind. Stepping closer to the rolling waves, you raised your left hand to the sky. Similar to what you’d done the first day on set during sunset. Drew had asked you why you did it, and you told him it was because you wanted to be the last one to say goodbye before it came back tomorrow.

Unbeknownst to you, Drew held his hand up to the sky with you. He wanted to know why it was important to you. What went through you that made this simple gesture needed? The sun finally peaked up from behind the horizon. You looked up to see the sun caressing your hand as if to say good morning to you. Your eyes fell back to the sunrise as a smile spread across you lips.

You felt someone’s fingers intertwined with yours, and you turned to see Drew with his hand held up to hold yours. You glanced at your hands as the sun danced down your arms and enveloped his face in its rays. Your breath hitched in your throat as you brought your hands down next to you. The two of you turned your bodies so they were facing each other and watched the sun lighten up your features.

His blue eyes were soft in the sunlight, and his lips looked softer. His clear skin radiated as the sun flickered over it. The breeze blew his ungelled hair in slow tugs, and you couldn’t fight the feeling spreading through your chest as the sunrise warmed it.

“I think I like the sunrise on your face better,” you whispered.

The hand that wasn’t holding yours placed itself on the side of your neck. Drew’s eyes glanced at your lips before they closed and his lips were on yours instead. The kiss was slow and affectionate. The warmth of the sun couldn’t compare to the warmth that erupted from his touch. You wanted to bask in him for as long as you could and even then, you wanted to face the night with him.

After a long moment, you regrettably pulled away and met his forehead with yours. His eyes were still closed and a content smile replaced your lips. Your face mirrors his as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

There in the quiet, with the threat of a hangover in your future, you and Drew stood in the sunrise.

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Three: Interview

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous Chapters Here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

The Hoover building is deserted at 4am, which is exactly why she has to be there so early. She arrives at Skinner’s office with nothing but her car keys and the casual clothing on her back. Agent Wiley, a young woman in her twenties, greets Scully warmly. She’s tall and brunette with an hourglass figure, and Scully has the passing thought that she is exactly Mulder’s type. She wonders if they’ve ever met.

“I’ll drive you to your apartment in Philly where you’ll stay for the duration of the undercover assignment, Agent Scully,” Wiley says in an authoritative though very high pitched voice. “We’ll leave your car in the bureau garage for the duration, but you can give A.D. Skinner your keys for safekeeping.”

Scully hands Skinner her keys and he sets them on top of his desk, rubbing his hands over a weary and sleep-rumpled face.

“I’ll fill you in on the case details on the way. Let’s hit the road, we’ve got a two and a half hour drive ahead of us,” she finishes, slinging her purse over her shoulder and making for the door.

Scully follows her mutely. Just as she reaches the door herself, Skinner speaks.

“Agent Scully?” he asks in a hoarse voice. She turns to face him. “I…I…” He keeps restarting his sentence, but never gets further than that.

Scully finally interjects. “It’s okay, sir. I understand. We all have a job to do.”

He nods at her with a grateful expression, and she follows Agent Wiley out to the parking garage.

The sun is just beginning to brighten the inky sky as they drive out of D.C. Agent Wiley is chatty behind the wheel as Scully leafs through the case file; once they get to Philly, she won’t have the opportunity to see it again. The only trace of Dana Scully in her apartment will be a burner cell phone, which she is to keep off and hidden in an air duct in the wall. She will call Agent Wiley at least every other day, or as needed, to share any updates. She is to turn the phone on only when she’s sure no one else is in the apartment with her. She is expected to get as close as possible to the other dancers at the club, one of whom they believe to be Mila Chamberlain. In the file, there’s a photo of Mila, a young Asian woman with a short blonde pixie cut and penetrating dark brown eyes. There is also her parents’ account of her disappearance shortly after meeting Ricky at a party, and their fears that’s she’s a victim of sex trafficking.

“Your cover is Diane Sellers, recently divorced and needing work,” Agent Wiley explains. “To our understanding, they won’t ask you much about your history, but it’s still good to have a backstory ready. It can be helpful to use real details from your life in regards to things like siblings, parents, and past romantic partners, just because it’s easier to keep straight. We don’t recommend addiction being a part of your backstory, in case that affects Ricky’s willingness to trust you. You should immerse yourself as much as possible with the staff, including spending time with them outside work if you can. You can have them over to your apartment, which is why it’s important that there’s nothing there that isn’t part of Diane’s story. It’s fully furnished with everything from tampons to Rice a Roni, but we’ve also set up a bank account and a debit card in case you need to buy anything. Once you identify Mila, call me. You should try to get as close to her as possible, and ultimately the goal is to confirm that she’s being held against her will. Then we’ll raid the club and get you both out of there. What questions do you have?”

Scully stares out the window at the cars rushing by. The pink sunrise illuminating the clouds on the horizon makes the sky look pinstriped.

“Why weren’t you asked to go undercover, if this is your case? You’re young, you’re very pretty. So I guess my question is why not you?” She recognizes the irritation in her voice, but she can’t help herself.

Agent Wiley glances over at her and back to the road a few times. “I can understand why you’d ask that. And I also realize that I haven’t thanked you for taking this assignment. It was a hard one to staff.”

Scully scoffs and turns to face the other woman. “I wasn’t given a choice, Agent Wiley.”

“Right. Sorry. Um, the reason I couldn’t take this assignment is that I have an ostomy bag, as a result of a pretty severe case of Crohn’s. I doubt anyone wants to see a stripper with a bag of poop strapped to her belly dancing around on stage.”

Scully closes her eyes against the shame that wells in her gut. “I’m sorry, Agent Wiley. That was rude of me to ask.”

“Don’t worry about it, Agent Scully. Honestly, I’d take my ostomy bag over this assignment any day. I don’t envy you.”

Scully turns back to the window, spinning up the life story of Diane Sellers as they drive on through the early morning light and towards her uncertain future.

Agent Wiley drops her off around the corner from her apartment with nothing but a set of keys and verbal instructions for where she can locate the burner phone. Her interview is today at 2, and the address of the club and interview information are on a slip of paper on the kitchen counter. They bid one another an awkward goodbye, and Scully goes in search of her home for the next several weeks.

The apartment is small, a studio, and fully furnished. She can tell that Agent Wiley herself took care of decorating it; youthful touches like a sequined throw pillow and a magnet on the fridge with “Diane” printed on a tiny license plate give it a dorm-like feel. Many of the items appeared to have been thrifted, which will be important to keeping up her ruse of being a woman in a tight spot financially. She locates the air duct and the burner phone, turning it on to be sure it works before securing it back in its hiding place. She pokes around the various cabinets and cupboards to find all kinds of dried goods and snacks, and is surprised by the 6 pack of beer in the fridge and the bottle of vodka in the freezer. The closet is full of clothing in her size, some of it basic jeans and tees, some of it tube tops and daisy duke shorts that she would never wear. Well, Scully would never wear them, but she suspects Diane would. The slip of paper on the counter reads:

Damsels in Dominance

1634 W York St, Philly

Ricky Dean, 2pm

She makes a face at the name and her stomach turns at the thought that this might be some kind of S&M club. It's just after 9am, so she has quite a bit of time to kill before her interview. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep, so instead she takes a thorough inventory of all the cabinets and closets to see if anything important is missing. In the bathroom, she opens the medicine cabinet to find a full Oil of Olay skin care line right next to a box of condoms. What the hell does Agent Wiley think she has planned for this assignment? Her confusion deepens when she pulls open the drawer of the bedside table and is greeted by a book light as well as a small bullet vibrator. Either Agent Wiley went to very great lengths to make sure this apartment would pass the sniff test for anyone who decided to snoop, or….she doesn’t even know what the other possibility is. Adding some paperback novels to her mental shopping list, she slams the drawer shut and flops down on the bed. Mulder is at work by now, and she wonders how long Skinner will be able to keep up the ruse. Knowing Mulder, not all that long.

Mulder arrives at work just past 8, noting that Scully’s car is parked in her typical spot in the garage; she must have needed to stop by before heading to Quantico. He’s a little bit disappointed that she’ll be away for the next few weeks; the basement office is exceedingly boring without her. At the same time, he’s grateful for a bit of space to think.

The tension between them had reached a tipping point but now sits suspended, teetering between coworkers and friends or whatever lay on the other side. He’s made some attempts at pushing things towards the “more than friends” end of the spectrum, but nothing seems to come of it. He kissed her, and while she kissed him back and seemed receptive to it, she hasn’t initiated anything further. The night they played baseball together was fun and flirtatious, but again nothing happened. He’s getting the sense that any move will need to be made by him. Maybe Scully just isn’t the forward type in these situations, or maybe she isn’t confident enough that he’ll reciprocate. This time that she’s working away from the office might be the perfect opportunity to take her out on a real date, knowing that if things get weird they won’t have to face each other in the morning.

Entering the office, he doesn’t find her there; they must have just missed each other. He logs into his email and opens a new message.

Hey G-woman,

What time can you get away for lunch today? I was thinking about checking out that new sushi place on 8th. Or we can meet halfway, whatever works.

Would you like to get dinner sometime this week? My treat. Let me know.

Mulder

He hits send, then digs in to some more case reports that he needs to complete. He has a vision of Scully returning to find them completely caught up on paperwork and how pleased she’d be with him, and decides then and there to make it a reality. While he’s not generally an approval-seeking kind of guy, the surprised smile on Scully’s face when he does something uncharacteristically responsible is one of his favorites. The number one spot will always, of course, be held by the smile she gives him when he says or does something that truly strikes her as funny. He finds it hard to keep from smiling just thinking about it.

Two hours later, there’s no response from Scully. That’s a little bit weird, but not exceedingly so; if she’s working on a particularly gnarly autopsy it can take quite a while. When he still hasn’t gotten a response by noon, he first checks his sent email to be sure it went out, then picks up his office phone.

“Autopsy bay, this is Richard.”

“Hey, Rich, this is Agent Mulder up at the Hoover Building.”

“Hi, Agent Mulder, how can I help you?”

“Is Agent Scully around? I was hoping to talk to her.”

“No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Not at all today?”

“No, I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, actually.”

A flush of worry spreads across his chest.

“Hey, Rich, are you guys pretty busy down there? I hear you have a big case you’re working on.”

“Busy? Uh, no, not really. Just business as usual.”

“Okay, thanks. If you see Agent Scully, will you ask her to call me?”

“Sure, will do, Agent Mulder.”

“I appreciate it, bye.”

He sets the phone down and sits back in his chair. Did Scully lie to him? And if so, why? Her car is here, so he knows she came in today. Picking up the phone again he tries her cell, which goes straight to voicemail. The darkest part of his brain worries that she came to the office but never made it to Quantico. He makes one final phone call.

“Skinner.”

“Hi, sir, this is Agent Mulder.”

“How can I help you, Agent Mulder?”

“Have you heard from Agent Scully today? I’m having a hard time getting in touch with her.”

“She’s assigned to work at Quantico for the next few weeks, Agent Mulder, she wasn’t expected to report to the Hoover Building today.”

“I know, sir, but her car was in the garage when I got here and I just called over to Quantico and they haven’t seen her today. I’m a little worried.”

He hears Skinner mutter what sounds like “Jesus H Christ” under his breath before he speaks again. “Agent Scully is fine, Agent Mulder. She’s on assignment. I encourage you to focus on your own assignment.”

Mulder hesitates. “Should I take that to mean that she’s NOT assigned to Quantico?”

Skinner sighs. “All you need to know is that she is fine, but unreachable. You worry about yourself and let me worry about Agent Scully, got it?”

“Um, okay. Thank you, sir.”

He hangs up the phone even more confused than before. Scully’s behavior yesterday after she returned from Skinner’s office makes a little more sense; she was uncomfortable about lying to him. When he leaves the office that night, her car is in the same spot it had been that morning. He doesn’t like this, but he knows Scully was in the same situation when he was on an undercover assignment and he should just trust her, and Skinner, and wait it out. That’s easier said than done, and he spends his entire evening imagining all the dangerous situations she might be immersed in. Drug cartels, amateur mafias, cults, hackers, the list goes on and on. He can only hope that she’s safe.

Damsels in Dominance is an unassuming building nestled between strip malls and fast food restaurants. The parking lot and entrance are at the back of the building, a fabric-draped chain link fence surrounding it for privacy. Scully pays the cab driver, though now that she realizes how close her apartment is to the place she’ll probably just walk back. After much deliberation, she wound up wearing jeans and a blue T shirt, guessing that it would be out of place to dress up for an interview at a strip club. She pulls the front door open and finds herself in a small foyer with a counter along one wall, a hulking man perched behind it on a stool. Even seated she can tell that he’s very tall, with a broad chest and square shoulders. His neck is nearly nonexistent, thick and disappearing into the rolls under his chin like a tree trunk. His head is shaved bald and his deeply tan skin shows evidence of long ago healed acne scars on his ruddy cheeks. A small gold name tag pinned to his T-shirt reads “Denny.”

“Hi, I’m Diane, I’m here for an interview with Ricky,” she says with a smile. She’s decided that Diane will be the kind of person with an easy smile. The kind of person who makes friends quickly. She channels her sister Melissa, who would talk to anyone and somehow have them sharing details of their childhood trauma within fifteen minutes. If she’s going to get these people talking, she needs to be more like Missy and less like herself.

Denny nods with a grunt and stands, proving himself to be at least six inches taller than Mulder; her head barely reaches his waist. He comes around the counter to push open a second door and holds it for her, motioning her to follow. They enter one end of a long hallway, a door directly in front of them labeled “Enter Here to be Dominated.” They walk down the hall, past some restrooms and several other unmarked doors, until they come to one that says “office.” Denny knocks and a small woman answers.

“Diane, 2 o’clock interview,” Denny says in a flat baritone, then turns and walks away.

[willowistic22]

New jomike hc au!post college

I came up with this au in my head for awhile now some hc’s regarding this new au on a whim bcs i wanted to tell my friends abt it on a discord server. I thought it’s time it sees the light of day bcs i simply cannot keep it in me anymore. Also this is kind of inspired by the song Dorothea - Taylor Swift. 

Everyone is graduating so que the sappy goodbyes as they’re all gonna be scattered not just all around the us but also all around the world

The couples made a truce whether to do long distance or they share the same dreams so they do it together

But mike and jojo didn’t make things work in the end so they broke up before graduation but still went to prom together

y’know those kinds of high school hearthache

Bcs Mike stayed in new york but jojo flew away (like england or sumn idk) 

To some fancy elite school bcs he’s smart yknow

He wanted to from the start but he’s always been a bit torned bcs he knew from the start of the relationship mike was the one (call it stupid young love or whatever you want, i call it destiny:))

And mike never wanted to hold him down so he was the one that proposed the idea to him

For the most part it worked out

Jojo flew away to chase his dreams

Mike stayed and did the same thing

Both of them only kinda sorta moved on. Met new people but never fully stopped thinking abt the other. Wishing the other was by their side right now

And so they’ve gotten their degrees and gotten their dream jobs

Mike is a coder working in a video game company while jojo is in social media marketing after finishing business school (or whatever major required for that job field idk)

And they kinda hv their life together. Jojo living on his own in a studio apartment with a cat called Dorothea (see what i did there:)) money doesn’t concern him all that much bcs the job pays nicely and he’s good at handling his finances 

Mike lives alongside with his brother ike in a nice apartment too. He manages to get a position that allows him to work flexibly at home yknow. He also has a new kitten he saved from the streets named Honey (bcs his fur is orange like honey) and since his older cat had died of old age

But mike lives with ike who also lives with hotshot. So he’s like always the third wheel. Even worse when ike and hotshot are hving the occasional double date with race and spot. Mike feels even more worse at those time

Decides to hide away in his room or go out with the excuse being work

And its even worse remembering he used to go on double dates with ike and hotshot when him and jojo were still a thing

So ike is like ‘yknow what? I hv enough of this shit’ and hv one good brother to brother talk

‘Dude. It’s been years already. How are you not over him?’

‘Bcs he’s jojo...’

‘Ok? So why don’t you call him?’

It’s not like mike has never thought of calling him. Very much possible. They still follow each other’s social media’s so if his old number had changed he cld always just ask from a simple dm since mike knows jojo is still active in his social media accs

But mike is like ‘i can’t. He cld be taken for all i know. Even if he weren’t, he seems to be doing fine on his own’

‘You can’t really get to know a person through instagram posts. Remember how you tried that the first time you wanted to ask him out? You thought he didn’t like guys and yet still went on a date with you anyways’

That was a real slap in the face type of sentence yknow so mike is working up a lot of courage and planned a lot on what he’s gonna do

He first wanted to message jojo. Seeing if it’s still okay to call and all. But he cldn’t figure out what to say so he procrastinated on that part

Ike got sick of it so he took the phone from mike and messaged ‘can we call? I miss you’

Mike was hovering in between i will murder you or thank you @ ike

Either way jojo texts back with his new number. It’s gonna add up on his usual phone bill but he thinks it’s worth it.

Ok so they talked for like soooo long

7?8?hours?

Basically the whole night for mike

It felt like high school all over again

They were just catching up with each other and talking abt absolute bullshit at the same time

Till they got to the point where they mentioned how they’re both single and the air kinda shifts

Deep down mike and jojo knows what this means

As far as jojo is concerned, mike was the one that messaged him that he misses him

It’s easy now for mike to word out come home without indirectly saying it out loud in case that’s not what jojo wants

Bcs after that catching up, he knows that as much as it’s a dream for jojo to work at a big well known fashion brand (he’s pretty fashionable lmao) and get free products that are usually hella expensive from the brand, he hates everyone he works with. Real snobs and ruthless when it comes to getting a higher position

The other things abt his new life is pretty interesting and he loves it. But he admits there’s always been something missing and mike so badly wants to be that something missing in jojo’s new life

So it comes out straight forward. Not like how mike had planned, but it works in the end. ‘Come home’

And jojo does exactly that. He agrees to come home for the weekend. He books a ticket to new york then back with only a carry on duffle bag filled with a few assortments of clothing and booked it out after telling dorothea he won’t be long.

He rushes to the airport bcs he kinda booked the flight that leaves for new york as soon as possible. Perhaps deep down jojo really does know what he’s been missing in his life?

He lands in new york on a friday night new york time

Mike tells him not to worry abt what he’s wearing bcs he just wants to meet jojo at a central park bench that has long became an important spot for them

Jojo insisted on meeting as soon as he lands which is tonight. So the whole time he’s in the cab, he’s like soooo shaky and nervous it kinda drove the cab driver anxious as well. Bcs like jojo’s not talking and didn’t like say anything abt why he’s going to central park this late at night and not to some fancy hotel as most travelers wld do when they first arrive at new york

The moment the cab stops, jojo basically threw him a wad of cash. Probably too much than the actual price of the ride but he just called out from the back of his shoulder saying it’s a huge tip. Secretly, he’s thanking the cab driver for not asking him why he’s in new york and why central park at this time. It’d most likely make him even more nervous

He’s running on the path. He doesn’t reach full speed bcs his duffle bag is weighing him down. He doesn’t even know why he’s going so fast. It’s not like mike has anything else planned

Picture jojo frantically looking around the area like he’s a lost little boy in the dark. Barely seeing anyone else in ten vicinity, so any figure out at this ungodly time rn cld only mean is mike.

But he’s growing worried bcs it doesn’t seem like he’s around

Until ofc ‘jojo!’

Jojo whips his head around and sees Mike walking up to the bench from a different direction

They didn’t really do anythign at the start. They just stared at each other while standing in the dark approximately 10 feet apart. Jojo waits for a sign from mike to do anything else, though mike was doing the same thing for jojo

Until mike decides to break the 1 minute long silence ‘jojo-‘

But he didn’t continue bcs jojo was already running up to him the moment his mouth moves and tackles him into the tightest hug ever

His duffle bag was dropped halfway from the run so there was no holding back. The hug very much pushed mike’s soul out of his figure as much as it did to his body

Thankfully, mike hugged back just as tight. If not, it was a sign for jojo that it wasn’t okay to go in for a hug just yet and he wld pull back really quick

In time, jojo did end up pulling back to look at mike’s face up close and whisper ‘i still love you’

Which is really out of nature for jojo bcs he’s never really known to be the risk taker between the two

And mike was so happy at that moment that he just pulls jojo in for a kiss.

And that folks, is how they got back together:)

So everyone has agreed that airplane food sucks ass (for the most part at least. 

Jojo was forced to eat it on his plane back to new york but he didn’t like finish it

Probably bcs he was so nervous and it also didn’t look so appetizing

So after they’ve said their heartfelt ‘i still love you’s and etc mike took him back to his apartment after finding out he doesn’t hv a place to stay. He’d stay at his parents place but the de la guerra’s hv long moved out of new york. You can say the similarities between jojo and his parents are that they like to travel. They sold their house and ended up backpacking across the world to look for a place to retire inevitably. Last time he checked up on his mom, the old couple is driving to Netherlands.

So mike took him home and cooked him dinner. They hv the apartment all to themselves since hotshot and ike are out

Unknowingly, jojo had sat on honey’s favorite spot on the couch and earned a disapproving meow from the little cat

Not until mike had properly introduced them that honey started to be nicer to jojo. And so they eat dinne ron the couch and talked.

Mike admitted calling him has been on his mind for quite some time but was too scared to act up on it. And jojo said what he did just now was the most compulsive and adrenaline rush thing he’s ever done. The roles had reversed for the moment

But now they’re back where they’ve always belong. In each other’s grasp while looking out the balcony in the tiny living room to watch the sunrise and then getting surprised seeing ike and hotshot pile in the apartment

And so now they’re back. They make the most of the weekend to talk abt what they really want

Jojo wants to quit his old job. The firm is full of snobby and arrogant ppl

And it has him working almost 24/7. He doesn’t want that

Mike on the other hand wants to hv a period of his life where he’s traveling full time

So they took inspiration from ike and hotshot’s current plan : get a mini bus to convert it into a home

In conclusion jojo quits his job, moves back to new york along with his cat dorothea so he can live with mike to make that converted bus plan. After securing a proper job that let’s him work at home flexibly like mike’s, they get on with their plan and sets off to travel in their house on wheels with their two cats. They end up getting married ofc and lived happily ever after:)

Thank you and goodnight folks hsnsgsbssjshmshssmhs

[leggomylino]

Verdant Elegy | Kim Seungmin

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Genre: Angst, poetry, nostalgia

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x fem!reader

Au: barista au, floral au

Word Count: ~1k

A/n: Happy 2021! It’s really good to be back ^^

Summary: Kim Seungmin recalls a harsh reality and faces a bittersweet truth.

Tag List: @skzwriternet​ @hanniiesuckle17 @distrikt9 @hanstagrams​ @hyunsunq @smolboiseavey @jisungsjheekies @iluvlix​ @moonlit-han​ @stay-nctzen​ @stayndays​ @cotccotc​ @skzctnightnight​ @multi-stan-present​ @freckledberries​ @peachyhan​ @hoes4hoseok​ @hyujhn @skzside-main @sarangsungs​ @changbinniee​ | Please let me know if you’d like to be added! Comment, ask, or dm me! <3

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Anemone for forsakenness,

And Aloe Vera for grief.

Winter Cherry for deception,

And Helenium for tears.

Carnations, in many colors, 

All pink, yellow, striped, and red

Their messages a parting elegy

That you will never be forgotten, for

It is in disdain

And a broken heart

That I can no longer be with you.

—

Kim Seungmin closed the lid on a small box of pressed assortments and time capsules. It’d been a long time since he’d last visited you again, journeying through those fateful times together.

The alarm clock on his desk read 6:30 a.m. Sighing, he carefully pushed the old shoebox back beneath his bed, adjusting himself as he made his way out the door, and down the sidewalk, the mask of false amusement slowly creeping back over his face.

He walked at a steady pace, so as not to give himself any incentive of today’s anniversary. But, for Kim Seungmin, nostalgia was an elegy all around him: The music studio next door, where he’d camped outside just to make sure he was first in line to buy you the new CIX CD. The flower shop around the corner, where he’d get up two hours earlier to choose the right flower. The café two blocks down, your favorite place in the whole city, where the coffee was strong but the determination of undergrads stronger. It was here where Kim Seungmin worked, and here where he had met you. 

The bell above the door chimed, and slinging on his apron, he got right to work.

“Hey,” Chan said, in that usual sunshiney way that he often exuded. “You’re here early today. Couldn’t sleep?”

Seungmin nodded, working swiftly to wipe down the nearby counter space. Chan watched him for a short time, the gears shifting beneath those sunny-sky eyes, before he cleared his throat and got right back to work. He didn’t say anything for a time until the morning rush hour had ended, and the smell of espresso and spilled Americano filled every nook and cranny of the small corner shop.

“Hey, listen,” Chan said softly, sweeping the counter space alongside him. His voice was drowned by the grinding of chocolate beans and the chatter of lazy afternoon students. “Today’s the day, isn’t it? That’s why you came in so early?”

Slowly, gradually, the sweeping stopped. Seungmin tilted his head, just thirty degrees to the left, for he couldn’t look at him all the way, not dead-center in the eye; instead he cast his gaze downward, silent.

The silence was enough for someone as wise as Chan. He responded with a smile, though not as sunshiney-white as his usual fire; for once in a blue moon, this smile was somber, and moments later Seungmin felt something of weight slip into his apron pocket.

“Check my locker before you go. There’s something in there for you.”

The clouds parted as a new customer approached. 

“Hi! What can I get you…”

Kim Seungmin stared down at his apron, his eyes attentive to the keys in his hand. The weight was tempting, but he was stronger than the coffee, stronger than the undergraduates even, and tucked them away until later.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

It’s said in a book somewhere that the rate of cherry blossoms falling is five centimeters per second. 

The same couldn’t be said about the rate of striped carnations.

A messy pile of red-and-white petals lined the spot where his feet were rooted before the storage room lockers. Seungmin had just finished working an overtime shift, the clock rounding off around 5 a.m.; he was drained, spent, and could barely feel his heels buried in the soles of his sneakers, but the sight of his name in your handwriting made his heart beat thrice as hard.

In the carnations, there was a letter, pressed between petals; ironically reversed. Shuffling from Chan’s locker to his own, Seungmin hastily packed his things and ran for home. After dropping his keys three times and barely making it through the door fast enough, he double-checked his small apartment for solitude before allowing your words to befall him. His finger traced the curve of the letters in his name, and choking down a rush of emotion, he tore the envelope open:

𝑀𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒮𝑒𝓊𝓃𝑔𝓂𝒾𝓃, 

𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹’𝓈 𝒶 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝑔𝑒,  𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓇𝓈: 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈; 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈. 

...𝒟𝒾𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇? 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎, 𝒜𝓈 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝐼𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒶𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔; 𝓅𝓊𝓃𝒸𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇. 

 𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃. 𝐼’𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉, 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒...𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉’𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓊𝓈. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒, 𝒮𝑒𝓊𝓃𝑔𝓂𝒾𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼’𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 

 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓌𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈...𝒶𝓂 𝐼 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽, 𝒮𝑒𝓊𝓃𝑔𝓂𝒾𝓃? 𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔? 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓈 𝐼 𝒶𝓂, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉’𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹𝓈...𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉’𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓊𝓈. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉, 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇; 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝐼’𝓂 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒. 𝒮𝑜 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓁𝓈𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉? 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓁𝓈𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝐼 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒶𝓎? 

𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈, 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒮𝑒𝓊𝓃𝑔𝓂𝒾𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉’𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈: 𝒩𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉. 𝐼𝓉’𝓈 𝑜𝓀𝒶𝓎, 𝒮𝑒𝓊𝓃𝑔𝓂𝒾𝓃. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓏𝑜𝓃; 𝐼’𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝓎 𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒽𝑒’𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁, 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓉, 𝒮𝑒𝓊𝓃𝑔𝓂𝒾𝓃. 𝐵𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓉’𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒— 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓃 𝓈𝑒𝓉𝓈, 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒’𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓏𝑜𝓃.

𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇, 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔.

𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝑜𝓇𝒷𝒾𝓉, 

𝒴/𝓃  ♥

The rate of tears falling from cheeks to paper was estimated to be greater than five centimeters per second. They collected in the paper, each a distant memory, tangibly forgotten, but forever sealed in parchment. 

He turned his head toward the window, the stars just beginning to blur, where a sunrise peeked over the horizon. 

Later, he strung the ends of that sunrise high upon his face, and got back to work.

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

[revasserium]

beauty as a perspective (or a study of truth through the lens of a boy who has always believed in fairy-tales)

anon: And it is beautiful with Hinata First love with kageyama? Please :) 

101. and it is beautiful hinata ; 1.8k words

there are so many things he considers to be beautiful -- the sunrise, the sunsets, the way the moon lingers on the horizon after a whole midsummer’s night, like it’s waiting for the first rays of sunlight to spill across the world, the way the stars are relentless in their twinkling, as if emboldened by the darkness that beholds their very beings -- that they are made all the brighter by night’s all-consuming dark. 

there are other things too -- a well-aimed spike, crystal cut and down the line, right next to the pole, a perfectly arched toss, slow enough for thought, but too fast for the opponents to follow, the double-rolling saves that noya-sempai had promised to teach him and still hasn’t gotten around to, the way a clean sneaker sounds against the well-waxed floor of a freshly cleaned gym, the sound of a volleyball meeting skin, the flutter of a net, the chorus of voices as it echoes towards the ceiling. 

the cheers of the crowds when a point gets scored. when a match is won. 

the weight of happiness, so light and yet so, so heavy too, enough to make his bones feel like they’re filled with gold or silver or maybe magic itself. he thinks there’s nothing more beautiful than playing... and winning. 

until he meets you. 

your name breezes through him like a summer wind through wheat, leaving no part of him unruffled and untouched, all this thoughts tangled and out of ordered, but so beautifully so. he watches you go like a child watching the end of a really good dream, powerless to stop it, but still with the naïve hope that perhaps, if he just kept his eyes open (or closed) for a moment longer, maybe, just maybe you’ll stay -- 

“hinata-kun, its your turn to help clean the classrooms.” 

he snaps out of his reverie (did you know that’s the word for daydream in french? how fitting, right? and when tsukki had asked, drop-jawed and all, where the hell hinata had learned such a thing, all he could do was shrug and blush and say he’d read it somewhere -- to tsukki’s compounded shock and confoundment), the teacher is watching him with a hiked eyebrow, and half the class was giggling. but you, you’re standing next to his desk with a sweet, expectant smile and he’s lost all over again. 

(who was he, anyway? before he knew what your smile looked like? what your voice sounds like? what the color of your hair was beneath the morning sun, or in the golden glow of dusk?) 

“let’s do our best, hm?” you offer him your hand. 

hinata had never wished for after class chores to last forever, but he has now. 

he doesn’t know how you get onto the topic of volleyball, but it always ends up there somehow... with him -- and he finds himself rambling like he always does when he’s nervous, blabbing out an invite because yeah! it’s pretty cool! and there’s a practice match today! and oh, yeah! i’m on the starting lineup and of course you can come watch! i’m super awesome y’know! -- 

and then the horrifying, daunting realization that he’s going to have to play. with you watching him. with your eyes, like pools of amber so deep and clear they remind him of melted caramel during the holiday school fairs, with your smile like tasting a favorite treat after a long, hard day’s practice, with your laughter and your voice like -- like -- 

“what’s this? hinata’s brought a friend?” there’s something in the texture of suga-sempai’s voice that hinata isn’t sure he likes but he’s too nervous to call it out at the moment. instead, he tries desperately to explain why the hell he’d brought you along, not that he’s really sure either, other than the fact that he doesn’t ever want you to leave his sight ever again in his whole life but, well, he can’t really say that out loud without sounding like a freak -- 

“uh -- it’s not -- i mean, yeah! we’re friends! i think so at least -- well anyway -- ahhhhh -- she likes volleyball and there’s a practice match today and i told her she could come and watch cause i’m really awesome at it and she just moved here from tokyo, or actually she stayed in france for a while before that! can you believe it? hey -- wait do you know kenma from nekoma? they’re from tokyo too, right --?” 

kageyama fixes him with a flatlined look even as you smile. 

“she’s not from the same school, idiot.” 

hinata puffs up as he turns to kageyama but thankfully, daichi is there to pull them apart before things get really nasty. he flashes you a sincere and somewhat apologetic grin. 

“ah, thanks for coming. you can find a seat up there, and uhm -- welcome to karasuno.” 

hinata finds himself watching you go (he nearly yells when you wave at him from the second level, that is until kageyama elbows him so hard in the side he actually does yell). 

“focus, boke!” 

“shut up, crappyama!” 

“ha? what did you say?” 

“both of you, quiet!” 

they both flinch at the sound of daichi’s voice. 

but hinata can’t help stealing another glance towards you, thinking that this feels different, somehow. different than all the other practice matches he’s played before. it’s like his vision is sharper, all his senses on high alert -- he can smell the sweat on his teammates’ skin, can see each spec of light as it refracts off of the newly waxed gym floors, can feel the weight of your eyes on him like a superhero’s cloak -- beautiful and full of responsibility. 

and he plays well that day, he thinks -- got a few really solid quick’s in, and he only messed up on two of his serves, which, all things considered, is probably a record low for him. kageyama only yelled at him five times, also on the low side. 

they manage to scrape a win, and it was mostly asahi-san’s doing -- noya-sempai being awesome as ever, too. still, he thinks it’s been a good day. he almost forgets that you’re watching for a while, but only for a while, and as the match draws to a close, he’s again keenly aware of your eyes on him. 

he turns to grin up at you, shooting you a thumbs up. he finds you no longer sitting, but standing by the railings, your eyes huge and happy as you wave down at him. there’s a flush to your face that makes him want to walk off a bridge right into a very, very cold river but he shelves that thought for later as you make your way down the stairs, jogging right up to him, your smile so brilliant he thinks he might go blind if he stared too long. 

he blinks, still dripping sweat down his now very wet uniform. 

“shouyou! you were amazing! i mean, you are amazing --!” 

he almost jolts at your use of his given name, but then he remembers you asking (because you liked the sound of it or something; he’d forgotten what you said after that cause he was too busy marinating in the fact that you liked the sound of his name) if you could call him that. and him saying yes. 

“for a while there it looked like you were flying, like really flying!” 

he nods along with your excitement, his smile growing so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt and god, what what happen if he just kept on smiling wider and wider? what would happen to his face? would it stretch and keep on stretching? or maybe he’ll accidentally split his face in half and have to get stitches from the hospital, which wouldn’t be fun but for you, he thinks, it’s worth it. 

“y-yeah! cool! right?” he leaps ups as if to illustrate, but as with all things he does on a spur of the moment impulse, it doesn’t go quite as planned. he ends up smacking his head on the doorframe of double gym doors, leaving him whining, curled up into a ball on the ground, and you kneeling by his side. 

“shouyou? are -- are you okay? oh my god, what happened?” 

he winces as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, grinning awkwardly up at you. 

“i wanted to show you!” 

“show me what?” 

“what it looks like to fly!” 

tanaka is fussing over hinata, loudly asking if he’ll get a concussion while tsukki is remarking to that getting a concussion might be good for him; noya and tanaka are both laughing so hard they’re also curled up on the ground. 

you giggle, “save some flying for next time.” 

“for... next time?” 

“yeah, for the next time you play.” 

“will... will you be there?” 

you smile, nodding, offering him a hand. 

“if you want me to be.” 

“yes! yeah -- oh man, i do! i really really --” 

“good, then i’ll be there.” 

“aahh, that’s amazing! super great! ahhhh i’m so --- mmmm -- i’m so happy!” 

he leaps up and is about to jump up again before he realizes you hadn’t let go of his hand yet. 

he blinks, heat washing up his face like jumping head-first into a steaming onsen. 

“hey! you said you’d save some for next time, right?” 

hinata laughs, “right -- for next time.” 

you give his hand a squeeze before letting go, turning to greet his teammates. hinata watches you, like he’s been doing from the second he’d set eyes on you a week and a half ago, when you’d introduced yourself to the class. 

like when he’d all too enthusiastically volunteered to show you around the school, like when the pair of you had stopped in the library, and you’d run your fingers along the spines of all the books like greeting old friends. 

like when you flipped open a book of fairy-tales and traced the outline of a boy with melting wax wings, plummeting from the sky. 

“you know, i used to always daydream about flying as a kid,” you said. 

hinata quirked his head, “why?” 

you smiled, “dunno, seemed like a fun thing to do.” 

hinata smiled then too, “well, it’s not that hard.” 

you looked at him, “you... know how to fly?” 

“sure i do!” 

you laughed, then, but not a mocking kind of laugh -- a delighted, dancing kind of laugh that made hinata’s whole chest fill with hot air and helium. 

“you promise to show me some day?” 

hinata had nodded so hard his head might’ve come right off it’s hinges. 

“hey, what’s ‘daydream’ in french?” he asked. 

you blink at him, “reverie.” 

“wow... beautiful.” 

you laughed again, nodding, “it is, isn’t it?” 

and he decides then, watching as you smile at something suga-sempai says, as you quirk your head curiously at kageyama, making him flush a hilarious shade of crimson as well, that sure, there are a lot of beautiful things in this world. 

but none of them quite so beautiful as you. 

[thecaptainhelm]

Good Love

ch.2 is here, it’s technically an interlude, which is bad bc it’s so early. i never claimed to be good at this, so here’s Alfred being worried for almost two thousand words

Enjoy!

That day, it was one of the rare, bright mornings in Gotham, where the sky was overcast but the sun managed to shine through, sending dappled sunlight into the eastern wing of Wayne Manor. Alfred Pennyworth had been up before sunrise as he had been for decades, carrying out his more mundane tasks in service to the Waynes, though it would have been preferred that they learned to rely on him for other things.

Normally he wouldn’t complain quite so much, the stress from it was cumbersome in his old age, but the situation had been truly aggravating this past month.

The youngest master of the house had begun acting...strange. Strange in a way that genuinely worried both himself and Bruce. Damian was by no means the best at communication, but he did at least check in from time to time, and they saw him for when they needed extra hands on deck for their ‘night shift’ as they’d begun to call it.

He didn’t contact anyone for an entire week, dropping off radar, and the only reason anyone knew was that Dr. Norfey had left a message with his emergency contacts, asking him to set up a date to reschedule his bi-monthly appointments.

Everyone called Damian in a rush, and he said he was fine, but it was strange because Damian never did anything without a reason, ever. He was literally raised to make carefully planned decisions, and that idea was only reinforced under their care. They’d had to find out because he missed his therapy session as if he didn’t worry Alfred enough.

For the past three years, he had been in the care of a reputable therapist, competent, and more importantly, safe for Damian. They specialized in mentally and emotionally abused patients and unearthing childhood trauma. The success rate of Dr. Norfey was slightly above average, as most patients either leave positive reviews or receive recommendations for more intensive help. After arguing for days on end with the entire family, he finally relented and scheduled a two-hour session. After that, he went about his routine as usual.

Nothing extreme had happened, thank God, but there did seem to be a positive response. He met with Dr. Norfey again after two weeks, glaring at anyone who would look too long, daring them to speak up. It wasn’t long before it became the new normal. The young master gradually lost his scowl for something gentler, appearing relaxed when home, though he went back to it as soon as he left the premises. Certainly, he had his good days and his bad days, but he seemed all the more certain of himself as an individual. Truly, he didn’t think Damian could make him anymore proud.

Then, he met a young lady.

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a petite young woman with kind eyes and a bright smile set upon a youthful face. She was polite, witty, with no small amount of talent and charm, and an endless amount of patience for Alfred’s brood. She was a breath of fresh air, especially for the suffocated Damian.

An investigation into her profile revealed that she was a rising star of the cutthroat fashion realm, her resume boasting high-profile clientele and lucrative business contracts. She hadn’t had anything notorious to her name, no criminal record, no illegal transactions, almost normal to the point of suspicion. After a while though, they managed to dig up something insidious.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had connections to a terrorist.

Six years prior, a supervillain appeared in Paris for the first time, holding the city, it’s citizens, and tourists hostage for what would be the better part of three years. During that period, Ms. Dupain-Cheng would then begin to date Adrien Agreste, and then break up with him a year later. She and her entire family disappeared soon after. A month later, Hawkmoth was arrested, along with his accomplice Mayura, and seventeen years old son, Adrien Agreste. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what happened.

Looking at the classified investigation reports uncovered more of the truth, that Gabriel had the idea to use the miraculous to revive his wife. He planned to sacrifice his son’s girlfriend, a girl his wife would never know about by using Adrien to make the wish. In the end, he never even got his hands on the miraculous. Marinette had started to become uncomfortable with Gabriel’s strange questions and talked to Ladybug and Chat Noir.

When she told them of what types of questions she was asked, they grew concerned and sent her and her family to a safe house outside of Paris. From there, with police assistance, evidence was gathered and a warrant was issued. Gabriel was confident until Supergirl arrived, using her x-ray vision on the property and revealing the hidden lair beneath the building. He was quickly apprehended without fuss, and it was case closed. Adrien had been arrested as well, but he was quickly acquitted when evidence showed that he wasn’t involved in any way.

After that was the media firestorm, and the Dupain-Chengs weren’t spared. However, Ms. Dupain-Cheng was skilled as she showed her hand, and it was a revolution. Out from the woodwork poured celebrity after celebrity, vouching for her and her family.

She managed to turn her pariah status into that of a martyr in the eyes of the public because that was the bible-sworn truth. She’d rose to the occasion and exceeded all expectations. After that, she faded from the media for two years before returning as a critically acclaimed designer.     The Bats gave her a grace period and soon they too began to gradually lower their guard.

And young master Damian appeared to be quite smitten as he decided to open his heart as well.

He watched his young master attempt to curry favor with the young lady, awkwardly wooing her to their family’s amusement. He saw her cautiously reciprocate, and he saw their tentative courtship, budding and fragile, blossom into something beautiful and delicate. He saw them weather the tough days and work hard for their relationship. He saw Damian start to let himself be happy without restraint. Soon a year had passed, then two, and then three. In the fourth year, master Bruce started to hint to Alfred to update the family registry, as joyful as he was.

So when he was sent word that Damian’s belongings would be shipped home, he hoped that Ms. Marinette would be there with him.  Perhaps misfortune had come to their apartment and most of the young lady’s things had to be sent to storage, but it wasn’t meant to be. The message he sent left no room for misunderstandings.

I’m sending my things back to the manor. I’ll be home by the end of the week.

The young master shall be returning alone, then.

Alfred had long since received the delivery and moved everything back to its original place, save for items that were acquired after he’d moved out. Now the day had come for Damian to arrive home. The moment was both exactly and not at all what he’d expected.

On an unusually sunny morning, about an hour before noon, the one and only Alfred Pennyworth opened the doors to the sight of the youngest master, Damian.

His appearance was neat, shoulders back, and posture straight as a rod. There was not a hair out of place. However, his eyes…

It had been a while since he’s seen his eyes look so strained, it was clear that he had not slept well. This was when he knew that Ms. Marinette would not be returning for a visit for some time

“Welcome back, Master Damian,” he said.

“Hello, Alfred.” A rigid nod. “I have returned.”

“So it appears,” he opened the doors and waved Damian in. “I have your favorite pot of tea on. Would you care for a cup in the dining room or the parlor?”

“Neither. I’ll have some, but I’d like to rest for a while.” Damian stepped gingerly through the door, as though he was indeed tired. Normally, he wouldn’t let such an obvious wound slide, but he knew better to pressure a man trapped in a corner.

“Very well, young master,” Alfred shut the door and turned to accompany Damian through the main hall, a step behind.

“You’ll find your belongings in your old bedroom with the facilities fully stocked, as per usual. Please be sure to take care of your wound and to reschedule your session with Dr. Norfey before tomorrow.”

“Yes, thank you, Alfred.” A pause. Damian had never been one for conversation, but he would usually ask what was going on in the manor without wasting time.

“As your father will be out late at the office along with your brothers, dinner will be held an hour earlier to accommodate their sudden absence.”

A noncommittal hum came from the young man in front of him and Alfred nearly furrowed his brow in worry.

All too soon they arrived and Damian turned back to the Wayne family butler, stoic.

“Thank you, Alfred,” he nodded slightly. “I’ll be out for dinner, but I am feeling a bit hungry after my drive. “

“Say no more,” Alfred gave him a placid smile. “I’ve already set out the tea and snacks on your desk. I shall return for the platter after you have finished.”

Damian finally let loose a tiny smirk. “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Of course, sir.” A courteous bow was the last Damian saw of the butler as he entered and closed the door to his room.

Alfred walked back towards the kitchen to check on his pot roast, feeling relieved. Damian wasn’t at his best, that much was evident, but that didn’t mean he was at his worst. At least not yet. However, there was still hope, because while it seemed like he had regressed in his current state, his tired eyes said that he had some sort of revelation.

Alfred began to prepare Damian’s portion, wondering what could have happened between the two for him to return alone, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else? The list of options was short but severe. He could have told her any number of secrets about his past, family history, current vigilante occupation, and while he had faith in Ms. Marinette, the young woman was by no means a saint.

It could have also been that she broke up with Damian, and it might be his extreme bias, but he couldn’t fathom why. Yes, this was Damian they were talking about, but he’d been in therapy for close to eight years now and was making steady progress as he continued to root out his trauma and slowly but surely heal. However, he did not know how their relationship was faring, as both proved to be rather private. Though, the young miss was more shy than possessive.

Damian had over ten years of trauma, all throughout his early childhood, and suddenly he was becoming an adult. A confused, depressed, and unstable child had become trapped in the body and mind of an adult, and while everyone helped to the best they could, all while trying to help themselves, it wasn’t enough. It never would be, not for this battle.

Alfred sighed, feeling his years. He pulled dinner out to rest and started to set the table, just in time for the proximity sensors to notify him of Bruce’s car pulling into the estate. Right on schedule.

“Welcome home Masters Bruce, Timothy, and Duke. If you would, hurry and wash before dinner. It’s been quite the long day, has it not?”

there, it’s gonna be a while for ch. 3

[lady-of-glass-and-bone]

Songs & Characters Pedro Pascal

High As Hope / Florence + The Machine

Fourth and final part! Part 1 here Part 2 here and Part 3 here if you want to check them out. I’ve had a lot of fun doing this and hope to do more in the future, so if there are specific characters, albums, or artist combos you want, feel free to let me know.

Lyrics and their characters below the cut.

June / Ezra, Marcus Pike

Ezra / I hear your heart beating in your chest The world slows till there's nothing left Skyscrapers look on like great, unblinking giants (Oh)

In those heavy days in June When love became an act of defiance

Marcus Pike / You were broken-hearted and the world was too And I was beginning to lose my grip And I have always held it loosely But this time, I admit I felt it really start to slip

And choirs sing in the street And I would come to you To watch the television screen In your hotel room I'm always down to hide with you

Hunger / Max Phillips, Frankie Morales, Oberyn Martell

Max Phillips / At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then, the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

We all have a hunger We all have a hunger

Frankie Morales / I thought that love was in the drugs But the more I took, the more it took away And I could never get enough I thought that love was on the stage You give yourself to strangers You don't have to be afraid And then it tries to find a home with people, or when I'm alone Picking it apart and staring at your phone

Oberyn Martell / Tell me what you need, oh, you look so free The way you use your body, baby, come on and work it for me Don't let it get you down, you're the best thing I've seen We never found the answer but we knew one thing

And it's Friday night and it's kicking in In that pink dress, they're gonna crucify me Oh, and you in all your vibrant youth How could anything bad ever happen to you? You make a fool of death with your beauty, and for a moment

South London Forever / Marcus Pike, Maxwell Lord, Ezra

Marcus Pike / And I go home alone I drive past the place that I was born And the places that I used to drink Young and drunk and stumbling in the street Outside the Joiners Arm's like foals unsteady on their feet With the art students and the boys in bands High on E and holding hands with someone that I just met

Maxwell Lord / I thought it doesn't get Better than this There can be nothing better than this Better than this And we climbed onto the roof, the museum And someone made love in the grass And I'd forgot my name And the way back to my mother's house With your black cool eyes and your bitten lips The world is at your fingertips It doesn't get better than this What else could be better than this?

Ezra /  And we're just children wanting children of our own I want a space to watch things grow But did I dream too big? Do I have to let it go? What if one day there is no such thing as snow? Oh God, what do I know?

And I don't know anything (uh uh uh) Except that green is so green And there's a special kind of sadness that seems to come with spring

Big God / Dave York, Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels

Dave York / You keep me up at night To my messages, you do not reply You know I still like you the most The best of the best and the worst of the worst Well, you can never know The places that I go I still like you the most You'll always be my favorite ghost

You need a big god Big enough to hold your love You need a big God Big enough to fill you up

Whiskey / Sometimes I think it's getting better And then it gets much worse Is it just part of the process? Jesus Christ, it hurts Though I know I should know better Well, I can make this work Is it just part of the process? Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, it hurts

Shower your affection, let it rain on me And pull down the mountain, drag your cities to the sea Shower your affection, let it rain on me Don't leave me on this white cliff Let it slide down to the, slide down to the sea Slide down to the, slide down to the sea

Sky Full Of Song / Frankie Morales, Din Djarin, Javier Peña

Frankie Morales / Grab me by my ankles, I've been flying for too long I couldn't hide from the thunder in a sky full of song And I want you so badly but you could be anyone I couldn't hide from the thunder in a sky full of song

Hold me down, I'm so tired now Aim your arrow at the sky Take me down, I'm too tired now Leave me where I lie

Din Djarin / And I can tell that I'm in trouble When that music starts to play In a city without seasons It keeps raining in L.A. I feel like I'm about to fall The room begins to sway And I can hear the sirens But I cannot walk away

Grab me by my ankles I've been flying for too long I couldn't hide from the Thunder in a sky full of song And I want you so badly But you could be anyone I couldn't hide from the thunder In a sky full of song

Javier Peña /  How deeply are you sleeping Or are you still awake? A good friend told me You've been staying out so late Be careful, oh, my darling Oh, be careful what it takes From what I've seen so far The good ones always seem to break

Grace / This one really stumped me, maybe give it a listen and let me know what you think?

Patricia / Javier Peña

Javier Peña / You're a real man, and you do what you can You only take as much as you can grab with two hands With your big heart, you praise God above But how's it working out for you, honey? Do you feel loved?

I drink too much coffee and I think of you often In a city where reality has long been forgotten Are you afraid? 'Cause I'm terrified But you remind me that it's such a wonderful thing to love

100 Years / Ezra, Marcus Moreno, Din Djarin

Ezra / Funerals were held all over the city The youth bleeding in the square And women raged as old men fumbled and cried We're sorry, we thought you didn't care, oh And how does it feel now you've scratched the itch How does it feel? And pulled out all your stitches Hubris is a bitch

Marcus Moreno / I believe in you and in our hearts we know the truth And I believe in love and the darker it gets, the more I do Try and fill us with your hate and we will shine a light And the days will become endless and never, and never turn to night And never, and never turn to night

Then it's just too much, I cannot get you close enough A hundred arms, a hundred years, you can always find me here And Lord, don't let it break this, let me hold it lightly Give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly

Din Djarin /  I let him sleep, and as he does My held breath fills the room with love It hurts in ways I can't describe My heart bends and breaks so many, many times And is born again with each sunrise And is born again with each sunrise

We have no need to fight We raise our voices and let our hearts take flight Get higher than those planes can fly Where the stars do not take sides

The End Of Love / Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels

We were a family pulled from a flood You tore the floorboards up And let the river rush in Not wash away, wash away

We were reaching in the dark That summer in New York And it was so far to fall But it didn't hurt at all You let it wash away, wash away

No Choir / Pero Tovar

And it's hard to write about being happy 'Cause, the older I get I find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject And there will be no grand choirs to sing No chorus could come in About two people sitting doing nothing

But I must confess I did it all for myself I gathered you here to hide from some vast unnameable fear But the loneliness never left me I always took it with me But I can put it down in the pleasure of your company

And if tomorrow it's all over At least we had it for a moment Oh darling, things seem so unstable But for a moment we were able to be still

[spideysmjs]

Kiss list #41, pls?

Thank you! 

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 

A/N: I got kind of carried away with this one.

MJ zips up her windbreaker all the way, snug at her neck as she pulls the hoodie over her dead. The forecast did not predict a storm in Queens today, and after coming out of her late shift at the Ray’s Bar, dealing with obnoxious drunkards all night, the downpour of rain is just the biggest, most dreadful cherry on top of a weird day.

She finishes locking up the doors, waves goodbye to her co-worker, and heads in the opposite direction on the way home.

Immediately outside, MJ faces the harsh reality that she’ll wake up with a cold. Luckily, she’d laced up her most endurable pair of combat boots so her feet wouldn’t feel squishy in her socks. She makes a mental note to buy an umbrella tomorrow.

Just as she thinks her night is finally over, begging a higher power to allow her to make it home safe before the sunrises, she hears a body slam against the brick wall of an alley she passes every night. 

Great.

MJ knows exactly who it is, and her curiosity can’t help but force her to check if he’s okay—even if he doesn’t know that she cares. She really does and not because he’s the local hero: Spider-Man. MJ cares because she knows him as her old friend, Peter Parker. That piece of information is also withheld.

“Hey Red,” she greets him. He’s curled in fetal position after a bad hit to the body. “You promised me last week you wouldn’t scare me at 5:30 in the morning anymore.”

He laughs weekly. His lenses whit uncontrollably. They’re broken probably. “My favorite Queens native.”

“That’s a big title. You meet just about everyone.” She offers him a hand and he takes it despite the fact that he doesn’t need assistance. The touch makes her feel warm. She forgets that her entire being is soaked with the unpredictable weather. “Why’d you hit a wall?”

“It’s so insane, M-friend.” He tries to catch a slip that MJ has already caught. They don’t let go of each other’s touch. “My lenses started short circuiting, so I panicked. Focused on that instead of my next web.”

“Are you okay?” MJ asks, though she knows it’s a stupid question.

“Are you?” he ignores her answer, finally slipping his hand away from hers. “You’re all wet.”

“I could use a lift home. Or an umbrella.”

He chuckles, muffled beneath the mask. “I could do that.” He bends his knees, patting his thighs. “Hop on, stranger.”

“You know you could call me my first name.”

“That would require me knowing it.”

She smiles, swinging her legs around him, the movement so familiar now. MJ’s lost count of how often Peter could catch her on the way home from a closing shift. “MJ.”

“Nice,” he says, mumbling into her neck. The rain makes his suit extra slippery, so she wraps her legs tight and he can feel his hands gripping around her body even tighter. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“I didn’t know that. You know you ha-“ she gets interrupted, a scream escaping her lungs because she’s still not used to being launched in the air.

She wants to smack him upside the head for making fun of her, but he whispers, “I got you.” and that’s enough to make it okay.

MJ keeps her eyes shut for the duration of the swing, as she always does, but the timing feels shorter when her feet land safely on the ground. When she opens her eyes, she sees them in front of a bodega. Peter says, “Wait right here.”

Her back presses against the glass of the open bodega. She picks at her chipped black nails and watches the rain splatter on the street with a soft bounce back. When he comes back out, he displays her an umbrella. She rolls her eyes, fond and soft. “Thanks.”

“Ready to walk home, madam?” he offers his arm to loop around after opening the umbrella. She takes his arm. “It’s just around the corner.”

“You know me so well,” she laughs. “One of these days I should let you inside.”

“Oh?” he asks. “Well–that’s.. that’s okay. I’m just being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

“Right,” she says.

There’s a silence for the rest of the way back, her face burning underneath the umbrella as their arms are linked and their footsteps synchronized. MJ wants to tell Peter she knows it’s him, but a part of her wants to wait, a part of her tells her there’s another time she can do this. A better time. A more predictable time, unlike the weather today.

When they reach the steps to her apartment building, she faces him.

“This is yours.” He offers her the umbrella handle, and she takes it, thanking him. He brings his finger to her nose and taps it once. “Now get out of those wet clothes and take a hot shower so you don’t get sick.”

Then, it slips. “Thanks, Pete.”

“You’re welcome MJ.” A beat. “Wait.”

She laughs. “I didn’t mean to say your name.”

“It’s okay,” he spazzes out. “You just-how do you-since when?”

“High school. When I had a crush on you.”

“You had a crush on me?” he asks, surprised, almost incoherent. MJ nods, her grip on the umbrella handle tighter, her heart beating too quickly for her own comfort. His hand cups her cheek. Her free hand brushes up his chest and to his neck, finding the opening of the mask.

“Can I?” MJ asks. He nods gently, and she lifts his mask just above his lips. “For safety, you know.”

“I know.”

She places a soft kiss on his lips, but his mouth is open, and he takes her all in. It’s funny how there’s a clap of thunder as soon as their bodies connect because that’s exactly how her stomach feels. MJ didn’t expect to be kissing Peter Parker underneath the umbrella that he bought for her.

Then again, she didn’t expect the rain either.

[muertawrites]

Two Halves - Chapter Ten (Zuko x Reader)

Part Nine

Word Count: 2,750

Author’s Note: We’ve had enough sad. Like, in general. So I wrote some happy for this week’s update. This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I decided to save the rest of it for next week since it ended pretty nicely where it is.

I feel like now is a good time to mention that I haven’t read the comics (I didn’t even know there were comics until like two months ago) so if you’ve been wondering why this story diverges so much from them, that’s why. I see the canon and I think it’s great, but it’s just so much more fun to write my own interpretations of what happened to everybody after the war. Sorry not sorry. 

I’m slowly getting back into the swing of things. I felt pretty okay yesterday, and I’m starting to not immediately hate everything I produce and am remembering how to talk myself up again after forgetting that anxiety and depression don’t rule my thoughts when it comes to my creativity. Things are still gonna be weird for a while, but we’ll be fine eventually. That’s how the human condition is - we always swing back at some point. 

~ Muerta

“What do you know about Fire Nation prisons?” 

You expect Rina to falter at the question. She doesn't even flinch, continuing to dress you as if you asked her what she’d had for breakfast. 

“What do you want to know?” she wonders in return. 

You gaze off, allowing your mind to roam as you consider her question. 

Since your return to the Fire Nation, Zuko’s attentive attitude hasn't changed, and your fondness for him has grown in ways you never expected it would. During council meetings, it’s become a habit to hold his hand under the table where your advisors can't see (though Yong has caught you once or twice, smirking as if you were two school children passing love notes during class). You spend more time together in the evenings before bed, and some nights you invite Zuko to sleep beside you, missing his presence since returning to separate rooms - he’s always gone before sunrise to discourage any scandal (despite the fact that you're married), never leaving without a kiss to your forehead and a murmur of, “See you soon.” It’s also become routine to meet him by the turtle duck pond when you each have a moment to spare, the little creatures getting so used to your presence that many of them freely approach you, pecking at your palms in the chance you have a treat for them. 

“My mother and I used to do this,” Zuko confides during one of your breaks; it's the first cool afternoon since the beginning of summer, a few leaves from the overhanging maple tree floating on the pond’s placid surface. “I remember throwing a rock at one of the ducklings when I was a kid. Its mother bit me.” 

You giggle, opening your hand so a young male can nibble at the apple peel you hold out to him; you attempt to scratch his head while he eats, and he squawks at you. 

“Good for her,” you jeer. “Serves you right for being a dick.” 

Zuko chuckles, the curl of his lips framing a hazy sadness in his eyes. 

“Azula did stuff like that all the time,” he sighs. “I always felt… bad. Our mother knew what she was when she was really young. I was the one who got all her kindness. Sometimes… I think it's my fault Azula ended up the way she did.” 

“It isn't,” you assure him. You tuck your hand into his. “Your parents played favorites. It wasn't fair.”

Zuko hums absently, his gaze drawn out across the courtyard. After a moment, he’s pulled back to you, a playful grin tugging at his mouth.

“You remind me of a turtle duck,” he states. “You look harmless. You're cute. But you could really fuck someone up if they provoked you.” 

You laugh, slipping your hand from his to teasingly shove his shoulder; the turtle ducks around you scatter as he mirrors your reaction, doing little to defend himself against your loving attack. 

“Did you just call me ‘cute’?” you tease, reaching to pinch at his cheek - he grimaces, taking your hand away from his face by recapturing it in his. “Are you going soft on me, Hothead?” 

He chuckles, mirthfully flicking an apple peel into your hair. You notice the blush that colors his neck, unable to deny your own.

“Oh, Turtleduck,” he says with mock pity. “Is Sokka so bad at flirting that you never learned to pick up on it?” 

He's used his new pet name for you almost every day since he coined it; every time he does, your heart soars out of your throat and into the clouds. 

Through your bedroom window, you can see Zuko on the porch behind your chambers, leaned casually against the railing as he chats with Aang. 

Aang says something that makes the older man laugh; your innards seem to melt as the lines around the corners of Zuko’s eyes and lips wrinkle like folds in a bedsheet. Something in the scene riles you - you’ll slit a hundred men’s throats to protect that smile and the feeling it gives you. 

“This is about Azula,” Rina observes. 

One thing you've learned in your short time with her is that you can't keep secrets from her - chances are she already knows all of them. 

“I just want to know what her living situation is like,” you tell her, “how powerful she could actually be from inside a prison cell.” 

“You have a merciful husband,” Rina sighs, somewhat dreamily . “Azula doesn't live in a prison; he put her in a compound in the Si Wong desert. She's heavily guarded and follows strict schedules and rules, but he didn't want her to live the rest of her life in a cage.” 

“What about Ozai?” you ask. 

“He’s in a prison. I said your husband was merciful, not that he doesn't hold a grudge.” 

You smirk, momentarily eased from the worry that strains your mind. 

“Do either of them have access to the outside world?” you press. 

Rina shakes her head. 

“Azula has very little; the last she heard of anything outside the compound was your marriage announcement. Ozai has absolutely none. All the guards that keep both of them are from the unoccupied Earth Kingdom, so they have no allegiance to them, and only a select few guards are allowed to speak to Azula.” 

“So… there's no way they could be the masterminds of any of this?” 

Rina lifts her gaze from the sash she cinches at your waist, her dark, round eyes meeting yours; her expression is blank, but she speaks in a determined hush. 

“I can't say for certain. But Azula’s intelligence is violent and cunning; she sees things from a different perspective that isn't entirely human. She has insights that more empathetic people would never consider.” 

You nod slowly, understanding. 

“I'll talk to Aang.”

Katara arrives from the Southern Tribe a few hours before the banquet you're hosting in Aang’s honor is scheduled to begin. You accompany her husband and yours to the imperial docks, a massive grin breaking across your cheeks the moment you spot her on the ship’s deck; she sends you a large, sweeping wave, catching you in her arms as soon as she's close enough to do so. 

“I'm so glad you're okay,” she cries into your ear. “How do you feel?” 

You nod, holding her by the waist as she pulls away. Her grip doesn't loosen, her arms still coiled around yours in an affectionate embrace. 

“I'm good,” you assure her. “I'm tough.” 

She smiles, pulling you in to kiss your cheek before turning to Zuko, greeting him with a warm hug. When she reaches Aang, her gestures are much slower, more tender. He takes her chin between two fingers and kisses her gently, his other hand positioned low on her waist as it presses her tightly against him; the action is so out of character for the two - typically so lively and averse to such kinds of public affection - that you and Zuko share an instinctive, curious glance. 

“Did we forget their anniversary or something?” you whisper, fear jolting through you when a look of panic crosses his features. 

“... I don't think so,” he says after a pause. “Maybe… he just missed her?” 

The confusion on his face is endearing - he's more emotionally intelligent than most people, but he's the last person who knows it. 

“Could be,” you agree. “This is the longest they've been apart in years.” 

The two of you watch as Aang assists Katara into Appa’s saddle, another strange behavior considering how used to flying Katara is. Neither of them seem to notice your staring, Aang leaning in for another lingering kiss before taking his place at the reins.

You return to the palace and are met with commotion, servants and high-level diplomats scrambling this way and that in a flustered frenzy. Everyone immediately alerts, prepared for yet another catastrophe. 

“What's going on?” Zuko demands as Rina approaches you; she doesn't hide her sneer at his brash tone, and you smirk as he apologetically shrinks back. 

“You have visitors, come to give their congratulations for your marriage,” Rina explains. 

“Who?” Zuko wonders. 

“Sun Warriors. They're waiting for you in the throne room.” 

Zuko and Aang exchange a look of shock. As you're ushered through the halls of the administrative wing and into the throne room, you take Aang by the arm, pulling him close so you can whisper to him. 

“Who are the Sun Warriors?” you ask. 

“They were the first fire benders,” Aang tells you. “They were supposedly wiped out, but Zuko and I met them when we visited their island at the beginning of my fire bending training. Their existence is supposed to be a secret.” 

“Then why would they come here?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine.” 

The throne room is silent - empty save for your entourage and guests - but a constant, electric buzz seems to hang in the air. Zuko falls into step beside you, taking your arm in his as you approach the group of visitors gathered before the throne; their clothing suggests Fire Nation, but from a different world, ancient to the point of almost primal. Each person present is decorated in baroque jewelry, glimmering gold and laced with vibrantly colored beads placed in intricate, deliberate patterns. Their faces are painted in stark lines of red and white, some across their noses and cheeks and under their eyes, others over their chins and foreheads; the makeup is so similar to Water Tribe markings that your eyes widen, unable to stop yourself from leaning in as you attempt to get a better look while also remaining dignified. The warriors are also much more robust than their mainland counterparts, with stocky builds and robust features - they remind you of your own people, leaving you in awe. 

“Chief Sunan,” Zuko addresses the leader of the group, bowing low as he speaks; you follow suit, leveling your gaze with the floor. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?” 

The chief smiles faintly, warmly at the two of you, bowing in return. 

“We are not so cut off from the outside world that we have not heard of your marriage,” he says. “News has traveled to us of the strength of your union, and the tenacity of your bride. As Firelord, you have protected us, and made strides to restore the ancient ways of the element - we have come to give you our thanks, and offer our blessings to the both of you.” 

Chief Sunan steps aside then, making way for a man and woman carrying a basket between them; they lower it at your feet, bowing as they step back to rejoin their people. 

“A gift,” the chief proclaims. His muted grin morphs into something more knowing, almost mirthful as he watches Zuko approach the offering. 

You rest a supportive hand on Zuko’s back as he leans forward, lifting the lid of the basket to reveal its contents; he raises a bundle of blankets from the vessel, his eyes growing wide as he peels the fabric back. 

Inside the package is a dragon, just small enough to be cradled in his arms. Its scales are a gorgeous crimson, glinting and shifting between hues of gold and turquoise in the light cast from Zuko’s bended fire that surrounds his empty throne. The little beast peers up at its new parent with amber eyes that mirror your husband’s. Zuko lets out an astonished breath, raising his gaze to meet Chief Sunan’s. 

“I can’t accept this,” he states, so quietly that only you and the chief can make out the words. 

“You must,” Chief Sunan counters, his smile never faltering. “The masters insisted.” 

Under your palm, you feel Zuko’s body tense. He nods, cautiously settling the tiny dragon into your arms; you hold the bundle tightly, reaching in to stroke gently at the baby’s nose. It purs appreciatively, and your heart swells. 

Zuko bows, lowering himself to the floor in the ultimate display of respect. 

“Thank you,” he says. “I vow to protect him with my life.” 

When he once again stands, he looks to Rina. 

“Accommodate them however they need,” he commands. “Send a group of our Kyoshi Warriors to the island to guard it from outsiders.” 

Rina nods, scurrying off immediately to delegate the tasks. Chief Sunan then approaches you, resting a hand on your shoulder; you meet his eyes with slight fear, but find only kindness looking back at you. 

“We are grateful our bloodlines will merge once again,” he tells you. “The origin of our people is a history that has been lost to time, long before the war was even a speck on the horizon. You see, the Sun Warriors are descendents of migrant peoples from the earliest ancestors of the Southern Water Tribe as well as the Fire Nation - what our mothers and fathers knew of water bending shaped our understanding of fire. Your union brings our people together once again, as they should be.” 

Zuko wraps an arm around your waist, proudly pulling you against his side. You draw in a shaky breath, leaning into him as you nod, tears pooling along the lines of your lower eyelids. 

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” you say. “I’ll do everything to make sure we regain our lost history. I promise.” 

Chief Sunan smiles temperately and nods, his fingers contracting around your shoulder in an appreciative grasp. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. “We are proud to call you our queen.” 

You invite the Warriors to stay for the night, Aang eagerly informing them of the banquet you have planned; by the time your reception of the unexpected visitors is finished, there's little more than an hour before it begins. 

Zuko brings your new ward back to your quarters, keeping him tucked protectively under his arms until you shut the sitting room door securely behind you. He then unravels the blankets the little creature is wrapped in, allowing him to explore his new home. 

“I thought dragons were extinct,” you marvel, watching as the fabled reptile twists and turns his body around every piece of furniture he encounters, inspecting everything he sees with humanlike interest. You smile, endeared by his wonder. 

“There are two still living,” Zuko explains. He kneels down beside the dragon, offering him a bit of a rice cracker from the box you keep in a side table for your nightly tea. “Three, now, I guess. The other two are the fire bending masters Aang and I had to seek approval from after I joined their team. Honestly, I thought they were both males.” 

“You must have made a good impression for them to trust you with their kid,” you remark, stifling a bit of laughter at his confession. “Maybe this’ll get Yong to stop bugging us about getting me knocked up.” 

Zuko chuckles, glancing up at you with an impish grin; the suggestive expression makes you blush, and you try to not admit to yourself that the excitement it sparks isn't unwelcome. 

The baby dragon lets out a mewling growl as he wraps himself around Zuko’s shoulders. He blows a minuscule jet of flame into the Firelord’s face, which Zuko mimics. You feel like squealing. 

“What should we call him?” you ask, lowering yourself onto the floor beside your husband. You hold a finger out to the dragon, which he curiously takes into one of his clawed hands. 

“Druk,” Zuko answers. “He looks like a Druk, doesn’t he?” 

You nod, your cheeks pinkened by the smile that’s plastered itself across your face; Zuko’s eyes meet yours with the same joyed expression. He maneuvers himself closer to you, resting his hand atop yours in your lap. As his fingers curl around your palm, you become achingly aware of just how near to you he is, and in a way that’s no longer friendly - the tension is heavier now, strained under the weight of a giddy, fluttering mania that leaves you dizzy. You don’t have to wonder if he feels the same. 

“Guess we’re parents now,” Zuko jokes, his voice barely above a breath. 

You giggle, taking the chance of leaning in to brush your lips to his. Your skin hardly touches; you’re too nervous to dive in and taste him, and for a moment after you pull away, you fear you may have imagined the glancing kiss. The fire that flares across Zuko’s cheeks tells you you didn’t. 

“Yeah,” you smirk, speaking in a murmur. “Guess we are.” 

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[akinnie75]

White Hibernation

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 31k...lol

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Extreme Slow Burn, Fantasy

Summary: The tale of the Winter Bear is about a grizzly bear that’s the only bear in the entire world who doesn’t hibernate during winter. He’s considered strong for being able to fight sleep. However, being the only bear awake during winter gets lonely. So during every winter, he makes friends with children and takes their soul to be with him forever. And somewhere down the line, you get involved into the fable.

“Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?!”

Your agent, Lee Suniya, screams from the top of her lungs on the other side of the call. You keep your phone at a safe distance from your ears. You sigh exasperatedly, standing in the center of the living of your cramped, one-bedroom apartment.

Despite Suniya’s aggressive scolding, you only focus on your apartment. It’s early in the morning, never realizing how blue your apartment is. It isn’t necessarily a bold blue, more so a faint blue, naturally peeking through your blinds due to the sunrise barely at its peak. All of your furniture—couch, coffee table, vase, lamp—is white, so it only makes the baby blue stand out more.

Maybe I should change my place up a little, you think to yourself.

However, your plans for redecorating your place are disrupted by the continuous rampage coming from Suniya. Her anger only worsens your annoyance toward her. “Did you not hear a single thing I said?! Is your head empty??”

“No, can you repeat everything?”

Suniya groans frustratedly then goes silent for a few seconds before returning. “Never mind. Did you at least look online?”

Your eyes move down to your laptop that’s sitting by the edge of the white, pristine coffee table. It’s on, and it’s an article called: ‘Winter Bear’: Profiting off of a Child’s Innocence. Underneath the title is the author, (Y/N), (L/N).

“Yea, just a few minutes ago.”

“So. You knew not to write that. But why did you go ahead and do it anyway?” Suniya tries very hard not to grind her teeth, but you can clearly hear it.

You take a seat on the couch right across from your laptop. You set your phone down, putting it on speaker as you scroll through the multitudes of angry comments. There are some that catch your eye, such as ‘How could you write garbage about my daughter’s favorite movie?’, ‘You didn’t even watch the movie so your opinion is fucking pointless without proper research’, and another one being, ‘Go die in a shithole, you fucking mood-killer’.

You’ve always heard about internet figures getting a lot of online flak these days, but your article exploded out of nowhere that you haven’t gotten the time to process the negative comments. Even your email is spammed with anonymous accounts calling you degrading terms.

But another reason why it doesn’t impact you as much as it should is because it was somewhat expected. Winter Bear is a beloved, rated-PG movie that people of all ages should enjoy, but your article made it very apparent that you detest it.

“Yea, I knew not to write it, but what’s the point of me making it my career as a writer when I can’t even share my own opinions?”

“You—” But before your agent can lash out any further, she catches herself. “You’re not a writer, you’re a journalist. Writers create from inspiration, journalists rephrase what they see. Are you seriously trying to give the publication a bad rep?”

“You’re not getting the point of the article. No one is. It’s a cash-grabbing movie using a dangerous folklore—”

��I get it, I get it. But where I’m coming from is that the publishing company has no time to be dealing with a bad image at this moment. They were just getting recognized, and you just had to blow it off like that.”

“That wasn’t my intention. Look, why are people even getting pissed off over one person’s opinion? They don’t have to read my shit if they don’t want to and go enjoy their half-assed children’s movie.”

It’s at this point where Suniya has completely given up on arguing with you. Both you and Suniya are stubborn to the core, and this is how you two clash often.

“It isn’t just about a bad public image for the company, but for you. You’ll have a hard time signing deals and publishing more articles.”

That comment was like a prick to your skin. There was something about that that ticked you off, more than what the internet is saying about you.

“What the hell is wrong with me sharing my thoughts? If these faceless assholes are allowed to leave comments on my article, then I can say and do whatever too!”

“(Y/N), calm down! Why are you getting upset?! Listen to me when I say this: I know where you’re coming from. I know that movie is a sensitive topic for you, but that still doesn’t mean that you should—”

“Don’t bring it up.”

The line goes silent for a while before she returns. “Alright, fine. On the bright side, this seems like a short-term consequence, so the most we can do is wait for this to die down. I gotta go, I’ll call you later.”

She hangs up, and you get the urge to throw your phone across the room. However, you don’t have the kind of money to break your phone and get a new one, so instead, you throw it against the couch pillow. It’s irritating when nobody understands you. If the general public weren’t sheeples, then it would be easier for you to explain your side. Not even Suniya truly knows where you’re coming from.

You go back to your laptop, your article receiving new comments by the second. You want to respond to them and tell them to go to hell. There are more controversial topics out there in the world, so why go to your article and attack you? You’ve already caused enough trouble for your agent, so it’s better to leave it alone.

You lay down on your couch when a sudden chill runs up your spine. You check the temperature on your phone, and it’s been getting colder lately with winter getting closer.  What sort of first-world struggles are those angry commentators going through to give them the right to downgrade you?

Regret begins to play with your head, suggesting that you should call Suniya back and apologize to her for exploding. You turn on your phone, seeing four contacts on your phone: your parents, Suniya, and your publication site’s office number. You press on Suniya’s number, letting the line ring before directing to voicemail.

With a sigh of disappointment, you get off of the couch with that feeling of regret going to eat you up for the rest of the day. You try to forget about it, pushing your mind to think about something else than to focus heavily on it. You repeat to yourself over and over that you need to eat breakfast.

You look through the fridge that’s filled with only microwavable food, some vegetables, soda, and that one vegan mandarin chicken pack that you promised to eat when you were still dieting. On the bottom shelf is leftover pizza from last night. You close the fridge then rummage through the white-painted cabinets. You hand maneuvers around the canned corn and beans, packaged dry pad-thai noodles, and shoving the Maruchan cup noodles away. You grab the rainbow, fruit-flavored cereal box, opening the top to check if there’s still some. You pop one into your mouth to check if it’s still in edible condition. Although a bit stale, you can eat it.

You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted to eat leftover dinner or cereal for breakfast, so you ended up picking both. Rushing back to the fridge, you take out a slice of cold pizza and the half-gallon of milk, putting the pizza on a plate and into the microwave. It’s not the healthiest meal, but you’re not in the mood to be thinking about your weight.

As it warms up, you grab the remote from the living room, turning on the TV. You skip through channels with the press of a button until you get to a decent enough channel that’s playing a rerun of a sitcom show. It’s about a group of poor college graduates struggling to live in New York.

Your attention is taken away by your microwave beeping when it’s done reheating your pizza. You poke the pizza to make sure that the cheese has melted, then you take a bite of it. It doesn’t taste as fresh as when you first got it, but it still tastes savory.

“This...is...awesome!” A child’s voice shouts from the TV.

Dramatic drums and high-pitched violins play after the show goes on a commercial break. You turn around to see a trailer of a kids’ movie.

“Who...are you?” the child continues.

Each scene of the trailers lasts for a few seconds to keep the viewers’ short attention span engaged. On the screen is a young child who seems to be around eight or nine years old in a snowy forest. The child is on its knees, face-to-face with a shadowy monster before displaying itself as a fun, lovable grizzly bear licking the child’s face.

“I have to return home. Can you help me?”

“Come with us...on an epic journey,” A narrator voices over. “Filled with fun...”

The child and bear jump over rocks as they laugh.

“Adventure…”

The pair find an entirely undiscovered part of the forest, though it’s just a more expanded version of the same setting that it takes place in, just brighter lighting and more sunlight.

“And friendship.”

The next scene is when the child and the bear are cuddling together late at night to keep each other warm from the freezing temperature.

“Bears are supposed to be sleeping during winter, but you’re not,” the child ponders. “But...I’m glad that you’re awake. I don’t feel so lonely anymore.”

“Critics say ‘it’s tender’...‘entertaining’...‘everything my child has always wanted in a movie’.” The narrator continues as five yellow stars would be slapped onto a frame of an overview of the forest. “Winter Bear. Coming soon on December 20th.”

The next thing you know, you throw the pizza at the screen out of impulsive anger. The tomato sauce splatters all over the carpet, TV, and some on the coffee table. It instantly slips off the TV, landing and staining the carpet more. It felt good at that moment to lash out on the movie trailer, but not anymore after seeing the mess that you created. But once rational thinking sets in, you’re frustrated with yourself for what you’ve done. You hurriedly look for wipes then run to the TV to clean it.

As you wipe with tenacity, some uninvited memories seep in. You go back to when you were a child, holding the hand of a child whose face you can’t see, or at least, don’t want to see. The environment that surrounds you is a white forest, silence freezing every noise possible, just you and the person standing side-by-side.

You rest your forehead on the sauce-stained TV, sighing heavily as you try to forget what happened long ago. You turn to the fallen pizza, glaring at it with disdain as the red, bloody sauce soaks into what was once a white carpet that blended into the blue morning.

“He doesn’t help kids...he steals them.”

———

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), you really need to start eating healthier food. Look at your stomach, I’m beginning to see a muffin top.” Suniya jokes as she playfully hits your stomach with a pepperoni sausage.

Suniya is walking ahead of you as you push the shopping cart. She decided to tag along with you to go grocery shopping, implying that this get-together is to make up for the argument that unfolded days prior to this.

“I would eat better if the healthier options were cheaper and tasted better.”

“Hey, there are healthy foods that are cheap too, you know. You just choose not to eat it. Plus, you’re not a kid anymore. Suck it up and eat gross shit for the sake of being in shape,” This is ironic coming from Suniya, since she isn’t in the best shape either. “Maybe you should get a gym membership and start working out. Who knows, maybe you’ll start attracting people.”

“Mm-hmm,” You faintly listen to her as you’re trying to decide on which graham cracker brand you want to buy. “Oh yea, which pizza brand do you think has the least amount of tomato sauce?”

Suniya sulks, a little annoyed that you aren’t listening to her, but this is typical for you to be like that with her. “I dunno. Figure it out yourself. Why?”

“Eh,” you shrug your shoulders. “The sauce is the messiest part of the pizza. Do you think I should start eating hot pockets?”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t fucking know. Pick both if it makes it easier.”

“No, but pizza is messy. I wanna know if hot pockets are not as messy with the sauce.”

“Why does it matter? Just use a napkin or don’t eat like a toddler!”

“...I’ll go with hot pockets.”

You push the cart ahead of Suniya as she stares at you with a look of disbelief. No matter how long you two have known each other, she will never understand how your brain is wired. She shakes her head, shrugging it off as one of your unusual habits again.

“By the way, your mother called me. She said you weren’t picking up the phone and she wanted to know if you’re doing alright.”

“I’m fine.”

“...Why don’t you just call her back and tell her that?”

“I have you to pass on my message.”

“You know…” her tone deepens. “Your mom wants to talk to you directly. She wants to know how you’re doing in your voice.”

“What difference will it make? She’ll just pretend that she’s worried about me but all she’s gonna do is yell at how I can’t take care of myself and I need a new job.”

She sighs. “But she’s still your mom. You can’t forget that she raised you.”

“I’ll call her later. I have some more articles to write and I don’t need the distraction.”

But she knew that you meant never, you just wanted to end the conversation. She looks through the aisles, clearly frustrated with your lack of keeping a conversation going.

“You know, you shouldn’t worry about work so much.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s all you ever think about. Don’t you have anything else that you’re passionate about? Like, I dunno, making friends, going out, finding a boyfriend?”

“Not really. I haven’t put much thought into any of those. They’re a waste of time and money.”

“(Y/N),” she puts her hand to her hips. “Your isolation is only going to drive you even more insane. You won’t have anyone to rely on, and you’re just going to be miserable.”

A vein protrudes from your forehead, but your expression remains stagnant. “But I have you, don’t I?”

She rolls her eyes. “You can’t just rely on me. I have a family to take care of. And you should also.”

Even though you behave as if you’re ignoring her, her words bleed into your brain. You know too well that you’re getting closer to the age of settling into a life of family-hood, but it isn’t Suniya who decides what you have to do with your life. Still, what she says makes your chest ache, the desire to deny her claims of your spiral to insanity, all the while being completely aware of her concerns.

Suniya’s phone rings, so she takes it out from her purse to see an unknown number on her screen. She accepts the call, putting it to her ear.

“Hello?”

A feminine voice can be heard from the other line. Other than a ‘hi’, you can’t make what she’s saying, and Suniya’s lack of expression doesn’t help either.

“Uhm...yes. She is with me.”

An eyebrow raises, your curiosity peaking. You stare at her, squinting your eyes. She does look at you, but she doesn’t say anything to fill in the blanks.

“Sure.”

She hands the phone to you. You’re confused, looking at the phone and wondering what to do with it. She nudges it to you, so you take it.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this (Y/N)?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Hi, my name is Kim, and I’m calling because I read your article the other day.”

Assuming that this is an angry reader, you’re about to hang up the phone when Suniya raises her hands up, signaling for you not to. You silently sigh, putting the phone back to your ear.

“You did?”

“I did! And I absolutely loved it!”

“Oh, really?” But it takes a few seconds for you to let that sink in. “Wait, really??”

“Yes! I reread it hundreds of times, and everything you said accurately portrays exactly how I feel about the movie as well.”

You glance at Suniya, and she smiles, nodding to let you know that this isn’t a prank. You’re at a loss of words that there’s someone who genuinely enjoyed your article. No one’s ever reached out to give you compliments, so you don’t know what to say.

“Uhm, thank you.”

“It’s no big deal. I saw the feedback you received, and it seems like not a lot of people liked it. You see, I’m a mythologist. I study extensively on the Winter Bear folklore. Based on the information on your publication’s website, it doesn’t seem like you know anything about it, but you nailed every detail of the myth precisely.”

“...Yea.”

“What I wanted to talk about is that I would like you to help me with my research on the Winter Bear.”

You crease your eyebrows. “...Excuse me?”

“You see, even though I study myth, I have a strong feeling that this isn’t some mere local folklore. You seem to know a lot about it, and I would like to get to know you more. Perhaps even go to the town to investigate more about it.”

“No.” You’re about to hang up again.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

You give her a third chance, putting the phone back to your ear.

“I can compensate for your help in return! We can help each other. I’m trying to write a book and get it published before the Winter Bear movie comes out. I want to expose the real story behind, not the watered-down, kiddy version of it.”

She piques your interest. “Go on.”

“In return, I’ll help back up your article, I’ll even reference and credit you for aiding me in the research. As long as we’re able to complete the book before the release of the movie, then it’s going to be a hit. Imagine all the clicks you’re going to get in your article after my book is published. You’ll definitely make more than you can ever imagine with any ordinary article.”

“I’ve already received enough criticism as it is with just the trailer. How is a full-length movie and your book going to benefit me?”

“It’s going to be a bit...greedy of me to say, but you aren’t paid by the number of nice comments you get. You get it by how many people click on your online articles. If you ignore the negative comments, didn’t you notice that your pay got relatively higher than normal?”

As much as you don’t want to admit it, it’s true. “Yes.”

“That’s what I’m saying! That’s why we gotta get this finished before the movie. What do you say?”

You fall silent, and it makes Kim think that you actually hung up this time. Talking about the town where the tale of the Winter Bear brings up the memories again. You remember looking down at your small hands, pressing it on the snow as you knelt down. The stiffness in your hands from the cold perfectly describes how you’re feeling right now. It’s strange, when you look back to the time when you were there during winter, it was dead silent.

Your numb hands, stuck in the unforgiving snow, not a sound to comfort you in this recycling memory. It’s strange, it’s only your hands that are cold, not your knees, not your face, nothing. Are you ready to go to that place that you tried so hard to forget? Can you unveil those childhood memories?

You recall that toddler. It was only a split second, but every detail of her is vivid. That baby blue-striped dress, wearing a pink parka over it. Her tiny brown boots treading through the snow, being matted by the pure white. She turns around, and she resembles you a lot.. Her nose red and runny, yet the brimming smile on her face is the only sunlight of that gray memory. The silence is filled with her childish laughter that’s devoid of flaws, as she had yet to be tainted by the world.

“Annie.” Your past-self calls her.

“I’ll do it.”

“That’s great! Then I’ll send you an email and we can set up a day to go to the town. I look forward to working with you in the near future.”

“Yea.”

She hangs up.

“So, what did she say?”

“She wants to work with me.”

“Really?? That’s great! So, how is it going to work out?”

You aren’t entirely sure. You agreed to it on a whim without putting much thought on the consequences. Now you’re a little regretful for saying yes, especially since you don’t want anything to do with it, but since you dedicated an entire article on it, it must mean that a part of you wants to return. You don’t know how your brain works sometimes, like you go into autopilot and another force makes the decisions for you.

“We’re going to the town where that movie took inspiration from, Little Bare.”

———

At the bustling train station, Suniya helps push you through the tight crowd. You keep looking down at your phone, squinting at a picture that Kim took of herself. You’ve never met her in person and most of your conversations with her took place through phone calls and text messages. This will be the first time you’ll see her in person.

“Why the hell is the station so busy on a Tuesday?!” Suniya whines.

Standing right under the ‘Station E’ sign is Kim. She’s a lot shorter than you thought, standing at approximately 4’10”. Her black-framed glasses and messy bun along with her back slouching really gives the impression that she spends a lot of time sitting down, probably reading or researching, and you’re not far from your assumption. She’s focused on writing in her notebook, not paying attention to her surroundings whatsoever, not even caring when a salaryman bumped into her.

“Excuse me, are you Kim?”

She looks up and immediately closes her book. “Hello! You’re (Y/N), right?”

You nod.

She extends her hand out for a handshake, and you take it, taking notice of how sweaty they are. “It’s nice to finally meet you! Is that your agent?”

“Hello, I’m Suniya. We spoke on the phone before.”

“Right, I remember. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Suniya nods. “Yes. The train should be arriving soon, so do you mind if I talk to you for a bit, Miss Kim?”

“Sure.”

She pulls Kim aside, far enough from you. You know that she’s going to be talking about you, but you don’t pay too much attention to it.

“What is it that you need to talk to me about privately?”

“It’s about (Y/N).”

“Hm? What about her?”

Suniya looks at you, seeing as you’re looking down at your phone. “You see…since I’m not coming on this trip with you guys, can I request you to take care of her?”

Kim is a little taken aback, as you seemed like a fully grown adult who is capable of taking care of yourself. “Sure…”

“You see...she’s a bit...disconnected.”

She wrinkles her eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s hard to explain, but I think she has selective memory loss. She experienced some trauma that still affects her today—so much that she tends to block anything that stresses her out too much because that’s how she’s always dealt with her problems. So if she’s spacing out, then that’s why.”

From the distance, you blend well with the crowd, no different than a modern citizen focused on her phone. You don’t look lost—you look so sure of yourself like nothing disturbs you. Your outward appearance doesn’t make you sound like the description that Suniya gave.

“Selective as in, she can willingly forget things?”

She nods. “I don’t know what happened, but whatever she went through as a child, it must’ve been that bad that she doesn’t have any recollection of it. I don’t mean to scare you, but if she behaves abnormally, don’t be afraid to call me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take good care of her. If I feel comfortable working with her, then I would’ve long since canceled our plans.” She smiles.

Still, Suniya is unsure. It feels wrong, talking about you in this way.

———

On the train, you and Kim are sitting across from each other. The slight bumps create a rhythmic sound as the train speeds to your destination, and there is a lack of conversation from other passengers with the only voice being the overhead of an automated woman alerting the passengers of their next stops. You sit by the window, watching the bushes pass by faster than the mountains from a distance. Kim is on her laptop, typing at the speed of light.

“I might be prying a bit too much, but there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask.”

“Hm?”

“Have you been to Little Bare before?”

You don’t respond—you don’t even look at her.

“Sorry, I stepped over the line. I was just curious because you seem to have more information than your typical person—”

“Yea, I went there once.”

She wasn’t expecting you to answer, so she stutters with her next line of words.

“My family and I went on a road trip during winter break. We got stuck in a blizzard and stayed at the inn there until it died down.”

“Oh, that’s very interesting!” She puts it down in her notebook. “Do you remember what you did there?”

“...Not really.” You lie.

“Oh…” She clears her throat to get rid of the uncomfortable atmosphere she created. “Well...it’s a good thing we’re going back. It’ll help you regain those memories again.”

“How did you know that I went there before?”

“I just assumed because you seem to know a little more about that folklore, not the watered-down version of it.”

“Yea.”

After that, neither of you say anything. This must be what Suniya was saying when she said that you don’t look like you’re paying attention, or you’re distracted by something else. She keeps herself busy by going back to her notebook.

———

At Little Bare, you and Kim exit the train. The wind blows against your hair, giving you the chills. You put your hands in your pocket while you stare at the town that haunts you. Every building is made out of wood, and the newer ones are built from bricks. The town is so small that you can see where it ends from the other side.

“It’s so cold! It’s supposed to have its first snow tonight, so it makes sense. But holy crap...I already can’t stand it.”

The train leaves, leaving you and Kim in a town nearly desolated. It lacks human contact, not a single person in sight. And there it is again—the dead silence. It was there before, and it hasn’t left. You wouldn’t describe it as nostalgia, but a boogeyman welcoming you back to your nightmare.

“Where do we even go?”

“I think down here.”

You walk down the staircase, hearing dead leaves being crushed beneath your feet. You enter through the main entrance of the town with a tall sign towering over you and Kim that reads: ‘Welcome to Little Bare’. You inspect the town, and the buildings made out of wood have turned dark brown after soaking in morning fog and rain. Resting your hand on the walls seems like it’s enough to give you splinters. It isn’t only the buildings that show after-signs of rain, but the streets as well. There are wet patches in the street, giving off the strong scent of wet black tar.

“Is...this the right place? It looks like a ghost town.”

You shake your head. “It’s exactly the same as I remembered.”

The general store is still there the last time you were here, one of the first buildings you’ll see when you enter this place. Directly across the street is the bar, just as empty as it was in the past during the day. The only difference is that everything has aged dramatically, those twenty years taking a  toll on the town.

“Where is everybody?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no reception here because of the high elevation, so I can’t pull up a map. There’s no physical map of this place either.”

You and Kim creep into the town more, with her peeking through the large glass windows of the general store. Her eyes light up when she sees someone standing by the front cash register. An elderly man, sitting on a chair with his back slouched, reading a newspaper.

“Oh, there’s somebody there,” you point at the man. “Let’s ask them for directions.”

You both move closer to the store, and once you’re close enough, the old man notices you two. When making eye contact with you two, Kim waves her hand as a means of greeting him. Rather than returning the greeting, the elderly man grabs a broomstick and walks out of the store, raising the broom over his head and jogging right toward you two.

“Get the hell outta here before I beat your asses myself!”

You and Kim step back, raising your hands to defend yourselves. She grabs onto your arm, and you cling onto her sleeve.

“Wait, wait, wait!” She shouts. “We’re just tourists!”

“I said get outta here! We don’t need no city people here to take what’s ours!”

“We’re not here to take anything!!”

“I said get out!!”

“What’s going on?!” An overweight woman runs out of the room. “Honey! What the fucking shit are you doing?!”

The man stops and turns around, seeing his wife marching after him. She slaps him on the back multiple times, so much that he drops the broom and waves his hands as a means of protection. After hitting him until he’s tame, the woman turns to you and Kim.

“I’m so sorry for my husband. We just had some unwanted guests come by a few days ago givin’ us some papers to sign thinkin’ we can’t read shit, so we’re all on guard,” she puts her hands to her hips. “The name’s Margaret, and this brainless man is Gerald. So, what brings two beautiful, young women here?”

You two look at each other, then back at the woman.

“Uhm..My name’s Kim. We’re here to research the myth of the Winter Bear.”

Upon bringing up the name, Margaret’s smile disappears. “Oh god...you really are just like them. So then, you girls better give me one good reason to welcome you guys in. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to kick your asses outta here.”

And just like that, someone who you two thought was civilized quickly turns sour. Knowing the amount of pain that she can enforce, you and Kim are faced with a ticking time bomb. Kim desperately flips through her notebooks, seeing if she can show any of her records to impress her.

“Uhm...wait, please, Mrs. Margaret! We don’t know who you’re talking about, but w-we have no intention of hurting anyone. I-if you look at my notes, you can tell that I’m genuinely interested in writing about this myth! Y-you see, I’m an author, and Miss (Y/N) is a journalist. We’re working together!”

But this doesn’t convince Margaret at all. She glares at you two, picking up the broom Gerald dropped. Kim freaks out more, seeing if she can find anything to offer.

“We have money! We can pay for anything!!”

That doesn’t work either. For a writer, she does a poor job of persuading. You try to think of anything to support Kim. You look around, biting your nail as sweat begins to form. You hate this—being put on the spot to problem-solve. It makes you dizzy, making you want to escape as soon as possible.

You squeeze your eyes shut, thinking of the first thing that comes to mind. “I’ve been here before!”

Margaret stares at you, raising an eyebrow. You got her attention, so you take this chance to breathe.

“I came here during winter...when I was a child.”

The fury burning underneath Margaret’s eyes turns into sympathy. She lowers the broomstick, tears forming in her eyes as if she reunited with a long lost relative. To your surprise, she wraps her arms around you, catching both you and Kim off guard.

“You poor girl.”

Kim is absolutely confused. She looks at you in hopes of getting an explanation, but your expression is blank. You’re overwhelmed with multiple emotions, coming all together at once unsure of how to express them at once. It’s like when all colors come together to make white. The only thing you can do is hug her back.

———

On the second floor of the general store, you and Kim are sitting in their almost run-down kitchen. The flowery wallpapers are peeling, brown and yellow stains running down until it hits the dusty floorboards, and age-old grease stains and black food chunks occupying the stove. There’s also a gigantic hole in the ceiling.

Margaret sets down a tray of hot chamomile tea on the table. “Sorry for our shitty first impression. Things have just been so heated lately that we’re stressed out of our minds.”

You and Kim take a cup, blowing it before drinking, but Kim drinks it without issue. You want to rest your arms on the table, but it’s so sticky that it makes you quiver just thinking about the last time it was ever cleaned.

“It’s okay! From the looks of it, you guys went through a lot,” Kim replies in an optimistic tone. “What happened?”

Margaret grabs a nearby chair and sits down, placing her elbow on the table without hesitation and running her hand through her gray, curly hair. “We got these big companies, Dismaland or whatever the fuck their name is, demanding that we turn our town into a tourist attraction for a  movie they’re making. You know, those family-friendly kinds. I dunno much ‘bout it since the mayor is the one who spoke to them, but we turned it down. Since then, they’ve been harassing us to sign their papers, so every young-lookin’ person dressed almost like you guys, we try kicking them out.”

You never realized how bad it’s gotten here. It was just as hostile as you remember in your memories, but a little worse since your parents were there to defend you.

“I swear to God, we’re nice people, but we gotta put up our guard if those bastards keep on coming back,” she sighs heavily. “But to be brutally honest, I really do think we need the money. As you can tell, our place is a shithole, and those big guys are willing to give us a small portion of the money.”

“But it isn’t really about the money, is it?” You ask.

She doesn’t respond immediately. Rather, she nods.

“You’re damn right. Those corporations don’t realize that they’re creating the biggest graveyard in history.”

Kim’s eyes widen, covering her mouth as she stares at you and Margaret. “No way...you mean to tell me…”

Margaret nods again. “This ‘Winter Bear’ ain’t no fable. It’s real.”

Kim places her hands flat on the tables. “Kids actually go missing?! I knew it! Everything was just too suspicious to be simply a story.”

“Yea, so even if we need the money to keep the town going, we ain’t gonna risk some kids’ lives for it.”

“Wait,” Kim pauses. “So then...if the disappearances of children are real, then what’s the actual cause of it? Don’t tell me it’s actually a bear.”

She shakes her head. “We don’t know either. All we know is that once the kids go into the forest, they don’t come back.”

Margaret glances at you, but you avoid her gaze. You act as if you have nothing to do with the conversation, sipping the tea.

“But that doesn’t make sense. Bears hibernate during winter and these disappearances happen around this time. Wouldn’t it make more sense that it’s some other animal or a person? Not a bear. And only winter?” Kim scratches her head.

“Not to sound like a smartass, but bears actually don’t hibernate.”

“What?? Really?”

“They sleep longer during the winter to save energy, but they wake up in case of danger or hunger. It is possible that you can still encounter a bear.”

“So then...do you think it’s possible that bears eat the children due to the lack of food?”

Margaret shrugs her shoulders. “That could be it, but let me ask you this: wouldn’t you think a bear would leave traces of the child? Clothes? Blood? Something? They disappear into thin air, almost like they never existed.”

This sends chills down Kim’s spine. She’s heard of this many times, but hearing it from an actual resident who has lived through children going missing is terrifying...but also intriguing.

“That means that we have to check the forest! Wait, Miss (Y/N), you said that you came here before. If kids go missing, then how did you survive?”

You stare at the wall, noticing how particularly yellow it is. Judging by how dirty the place is, it makes you wonder if the wallpaper was white but got stale as time went by. You’ve been very quiet, not bothering to put your input, and this concerns Margaret. She knew that Kim was stepping over her boundaries.

“...(Y/N)?” Kim asks. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yea, I’m fine.”

“After your tea, I can show you young ladies where to go for the inn.”

Kim doesn’t read the atmosphere, not seeing how uncomfortable you’ve become. You clench onto the teacup, pinching the handle with all your might. You were confident when the thought of coming here sprung up, but being physically here is more demanding than you could’ve ever imagined.

———

Some time has gone by since the visit to Margaret’s place. She showed you two around the place, introducing you to some of the residents. Some of them you remember, but others you don’t. They don’t recognize you either, and Margaret is kind enough not to share your name with them. Once she’s finished showing you two around town, she eventually leads you two to the inn.

In the room, Kim is taking a shower while you sit by the edge of your bed. Despite struggling to find reception, the inn miraculously has some, although a bit slow. You have over fifty text messages from only two people—Suniya and your mother. Both of their messages are asking how you and Kim are doing. However, you turn off your phone, sighing as you toss it aside. You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling fan blanketed with dust. The fan itself looks like it’ll fall any second, seeing as it shakes even from the lightest movement.

You were naive to think that your problems will be solved if you stepped into Little Bare again. It’s more complicated than you expected, and now you want out. However, you’ve already promised to work with Kim; you can’t break the deal. You wish Suniya was here to yell at you, to tell you that you’ve made a dumb decision. That way, it would at least sound like she cares. Even though you’ve gotten to know Kim a little more, it still feels like you’ve stranded yourself on a foreign land.

And that image of the little girl, Annie, continuously appearing every time you close your eyes. Every corner of this town reminds you of her, like a ghost haunting you. You can sense her presence in the corner of the room, purposely watching you with hollow, blackened holes for eyes. She’s standing there in her pink parka and blue-striped dress, waiting for you to make your next move.

You groan, rubbing your eyes. You apply enough pressure that your eyes are being pushed back, rubbing so fast that your skin turns red. No matter how much you try to push the thoughts away, she just keeps coming back. Just as Kim exited the room, you get off the bed, taking your jacket and heading straight to the door.

“Where are you going? You look like you’re in a rush to start a mission.”

“It’s too small in here. I need some fresh air.”

“O-oh, okay...but please stay safe! Who knows what kinds of creeps are out there.”

“I will. Thanks.” You open the door and close it behind you.

———

You walk around, hands in the pockets of your jacket. There is no wind, but the drop in temperature stiffens your muscles. Just like in the morning, no one is occupying the streets. It’s just you, alone, with your bothersome thoughts. It manifests into a black aura, clinging onto the back of your head.

You thought about heading to Margaret’s place just to get things off of your chest, but you change your mind. She never directly stated it, but she knew who you were and what you went through. It was an odd moment that she sympathized with you without knowing exactly what had happened.

A flashy neon sign catches your attention. It’s in the shape of a brown beer bottle, pouring bubbles into a glass wine. It’s the bar that’s across the street of the general store called Bar & Grill. You’re not a drinker, but when your stress gets overwhelming, you tend to be persuaded by the lust of alcohol. Wanting to get rid of this black aura looming, you make the decision to enter the bar.

———

Your head is on the counter table, your arms around it to hide your red face. The inside of the place has very few people, only a few men who just came back from work, but even these men are barely whispering a word. The bartender stands on the other side of the counter, cleaning the glass cups with a white cloth.

“Hey, Miss. Do you have someone to take you home?”

You groan.

The bartender sighs. “You’re a young woman. Do you know how easy it is to be preyed on?”

“I can...handle myself,” you raise your head up, one eye open. “I practically raised myself! What makes you think I’m irresponsi...ble? You dunno me.” You slur your words.

The bartender sets the cup down, putting her hand on her hip and leaning on the counter. She isn’t sure if your red, watery eyes are because you drank so much or if you’re becoming emotional.

“You’re one of those researchers that came here earlier today, huh? Marge told me,” she shakes her head. “Jesus Christ, you city people really don’t know the limits to drinking.”

Next to you are five empty beer cups with the foam sliding down on the sides. You snicker at how much you drank, followed by a hiccup. “Wow, you’re right. I’m usually good at self-control. I know how to control my problems, but tonight is not one of those times.”

“It’s not that you’re good at controlling your problems. You’re just good at avoiding them. Marge told me about you, and no offense, but she thinks it’s fucking strange that you don’t look like you’re bothered that your sister was taken away by that monster. But I disagree. You’re pretending like it ever happened.”

“Excuse me? Who are you to assume how I feel??”

“Our place is practically off-coordinates with maps, but we still have those runaways who come to the bar every so often. You’re no different from them. So…”

“What?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She crosses her arms. “I won’t tell anybody. We pretend that tonight never existed.”

You rummage your hand through your messy hair, calming down. It might be the toxication persuading you, but you’re not comfortable telling her.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Oh really?”

“I don’t want to, and it’s because I don’t know how to talk about it. If I can’t even talk to my mom about it, then why the hell do you think I can tell you? When I did want to bring Annie’s disappearance up, my mom would change the subject. It’s not only that, but it was like...she wanted to make me disappear too. And I know it’s because she fucking blames me for losing her, and seeing my face reminds her that she lost her baby. She always favored Annie anyway, so it wasn’t surprising that when she went missing, she...she said…”

You have a flashback of when you were a child during the aftermath. You and your parents returned safely home but without Annie. Your six-year-old mind thought that if you stared at Annie’s cradle in your parents’ bedroom every so often, she would magically return. But to your dismay, your efforts were in vain, and she never appeared.

One night, you woke up from a repeating nightmare of the day you lost her, so to soothe your racing heart, you jumped out of your bed and ran to their bedroom to look at her cradle, praying that she’s there. But rather than seeing your parents asleep, they’re sitting by the edge of the bed. Your mother is curled into a ball, sobbing profusely while your father makes attempts to comfort her with shallow pats on the back. In between her cries, you heard:

“Why couldn’t it have been (Y/N)?”

Returning from a trip to the past, taking your wallet out and paying with cash. You put on your coat and head straight to the exit.

“Where are you going?” The bartender asks.

“To sleep.”

You march right out the bar, massaging your head. After opening the doors, you step out and nearly tripped. For a second, your foggy mind thought you stepped through a hole, but it turns out to be snow. Some time has gone since you’ve been holed up in the bar that it already began snowing and it’s piled up.

You wobble to the empty forest, leaving a trace of your footprints. You despise being anywhere near the empty forest that surrounds Little Bare, but with alcohol, you think you’re invincible. You stand in front of the forest, being unable to see into the distance with the fog blocking your view. But amongst the fog, there is an apparition.

You squint your eyes, but they fail to make sense of what stands far away. But what you can make of the figure is that it’s small and crouched over. It’s alive, moving around but at the same time, staying in the same spot. It isn’t far, but it isn’t that close either.

Your mind immediately draws to that apparition being a bear. That bear that took everything away from you--your little sister, your chance at a childhood, a shot at a proper adult life, everything. Anger spurs within you, no longer having that rationality in your fragile mind. Within a spur of impulse, you pick up a rock the size of your hand, pulling it back and throwing directly toward the bear.

“FUCK YOU!” You shout from the top of your lungs.

Despite the influence of alcohol, you nailed the apparition right at its head. It falls to the ground, the sound of a ‘plop’ echoing. In that brief act of revenge, victory overcame you. You nearly raise your hands up in celebration, thinking that you defeated your arch-nemesis. But you manage to return to your senses, realizing that the apparition isn’t a figment of your imagination...but an actual person. Then your adrenaline fades away.

You trek through the thick snow, hopping through it until you enter the forest, whilst tripping and stumbling. You lean over the black figure, rubbing your eyes to make sure that what you’re seeing is real. Unable to stand straight, you fall backward and land on your bottom. After blinking, dread sets in when you realize that it’s a child.

“Oh my god...oh no...help...”

You try to stand up to look for help, but once you do, your vision turns black and you become light-headed. Nausea hits you, wrapping your hand around your stomach to control your gag reflexes. The alcohol, lack of food and water, combined with the high elevation comes altogether, making you fall down again.

As your eyelashes flutter, there’s a flashlight illuminating from the direction where you came from. Just when you’re about to close your eyes, the young boy’s body grows exponentially, growing to an exact size of a fully-grown adult right before you.

———

“Mom! Dad! I made a best friend!! He lives in a cave in the forest with the black trees...No! I’m not lying. He really does live there! He’s six years old like me...What? He’s real!! He doesn’t live with a mom and dad, but he said that he lives with kids like me and him too…

“And I told him that I would show him Annie, too...”

“Don’t…!” You sit up in an unfamiliar room in a cold sweat and heavy breathing.

You’re on a clean bed, made of pure white. On the walls, there are drawings of the human anatomy, motivational quotes plastered on a piece of paper with words such as ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away’ and ‘be calm and exercise’.

Next the bed is Kim, startled by you suddenly waking up. “(Y/N)?! Are you okay??”

You look at your hand that’s trembling violently, but now that you’re conscious, the hangover hits you hard like a bullet. That massive headache and your stomach twisted in a knot. There’s a lump in your throat with the urge to throw up, but there’s nothing that’s coming out.

“Where...is this place?”

“It’s the clinic. The bartender found you unconscious with a man in the woods and thought that he was trying to take advantage of you.”

“A man…?”

You search through with what very little that you remember last night. You went to the bar to waste away, then you walked out. There was someone in the forest—a young boy. It was too dark to make sense of the boy’s details, but you just knew based on his shape that it was definitely a male.

“No...no…” You squeeze your eyes shut, enduring the pestering headache as you shake your head. “It...it was a boy. A kid.”

“What?” She raises an eyebrow. “There were no kids around, just the man. They’re interrogating him right now.”

You don’t recall a man being there. You must’ve been that fucked up to mistaken a man for a child. Even though it shouldn’t be an issue, it’s bothering you a lot. You remove the blanket, attempting to get out of bed before Kim stops you.

“What are you doing??”

“I have to see the man.”

“No! The doctor advised that you sit. You haven’t been eating, so you’re light-headed.”

“Let me see him. I need to.”

“Stop being crazy and just rest! They made food for you, so just eat and sleep.”

She puts her arms on you, but you gently push her hands away. “I will after I see him.”

You get out of bed, trying to stand but the light-headedness sets in. Your vision turns black briefly, causing you to stumble over your feet. Kim comes to the aid, helping you balance.

“See? I told you. Just rest.”

“No...I’m good. Do you know where this guy’s room is?”

Seeing how adamant you are about it, she decides to give in. “He’s in the room next to you.”

You head out of the room, walking slowly so that you don’t fall, then exiting the room. In the halls, there’s nobody, making it easier for you to head into the other room without any interruptions. You twist the doorknob, swinging it open to find the doctor and policeman, assuming by the uniforms that they’re wearing for their designated jobs. They turn to you, caught off-guard by your entrance.

The man that you’re looking for is on the bed, tilting his head when you two make eye contact. He has a long face, void of a smile. His black hair is frizzy and curly, strands of it flying all directions as if he just woke up. There are bandages wrapped around his head. After that short contact, he looks away, grabbing the doctor’s sleeve and using it to hide his face.

“Miss (Y/N)? What are you doing up?” The doctor asks.

Kim follows from behind.

“Miss Kim, I told you to watch over her.”

“I’m sorry...but she was persistent in seeing him.”

“Him…?”

Now that you have gotten your opportunity to meet with the man, you don’t know what to do. You stand still, at a loss of words when you meet the man that you ran into the forest. Perhaps you really did run into a man, not a child. You were under the influence, after all.

“Miss (Y/N),” the policeman starts. “Since you seem well enough to be standing, can I have a word with you?”

“Sure…”

———

“Amnesia?”

Returning back to your room, the policeman explains what they were discussing earlier. Kim had returned to the hotel room to give you and the police some privacy, and the doctor is staying with the man.

He sits with his hands folded on his lap, giving you a serious expression. “Yes. It’s a minor blunt-force trauma to the head, like something no bigger than a rock.”

“Oh my god…I was the one who hit him.”

“Did he try to assault you?”

You shake your head. “I did out of anger, but not at him. I was drunk and wasn’t thinking clearly.”

You fear that you’ll get in trouble, but you’re more fearful of the condition that you left the young man in. You weren’t expecting your throw to be that strong. The policeman scratches his beard, figuring out what to do in this situation.

“For all I know, you could be lying.”

You gulp.

“But hey, you could also be telling the truth. We don’t know until we check out the scene and hear his side. He doesn’t remember crap—not even his own name. For now, we’ll continue the investigation.”

You sigh in relief, but that still doesn’t deter the guilt from you. The man is a victim of your outlash, and it’s natural for you to want to make up for what you’ve done, even if it’s minor.

“Uhm...how is he…? The guy, I mean.”

“Other than the total amnesia, he’s in a healthy state. It’s strange, though. Other than a large coat, he was wearing a thin layer of clothes, but his body temperature wasn’t affected by the cold. We don’t have young people living here either, so it’s a mystery where he came from.”

He stands up from the chair, walking to the door.

“Well, it’s nice meeting you, Miss (Y/N). If you remember anything, then don’t be afraid to come to me. My name is Sheriff Tusk, and I’ll be in the police station often.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Sheriff Tusk walks out, leaving you alone. You fall back, resting your head on the pillow as you exhale. So much has happened in a short amount of time that it’s difficult to believe that all this actually happened. Even if you got away with being put to jail, you feel immensely guilty for hurting him.

———

The next day, you’ve been discharged from the hospital, suffering only from lack of nutrients and a hangover. Kim is in the room with you, helping you pack your things. Neither of you say much, focusing on putting your belongings away. You keep thinking about the man next-door, wondering how he’s doing. You keep stealing glances at Kim, wanting to ask her if you two can visit him but never gathering enough courage to actually ask her.

“Are you ready?” Kim asks as she puts the last folded shirt into your luggage.

“Hm? Oh, yea.”

You take the luggage from her and head to the door. Kim looks at her phone, once again, seeing that her phone has low reception. You pass by the man’s room, stopping in front of it and nearly causing Kim to bump into you.

“Whoa, what’s going on?”

Without a response, your eyes lay heavily on the door, struggling with the debate of whether or not you should enter.

“...(Y/N)...?”

Eventually, you make the final decision, approaching it and your hand grasping the doorknob. You pull the door open, making Kim confused, but not stopping you from continuing.

Inside the room, your peer at the bed, seeing the man sitting upward with a movable table that has a tray of food on top. He holds a cup of pudding in his hand, eating the chocolate-flavored dessert faster than the sound of light. He eats as though he hasn’t eaten in days, the pudding smearing on the corners of his lips.

It takes a moment for him to sense your presence, jolting and freezing when he sees you. You blink profusely, looking around the room nervously. You wanted to see him again, but you didn’t think about what, or if, you wanted to say something.

The man holds the end of his blanket and pulls it up.

You scratch the back of your neck, looking only at the corner of the room. “Hi, uh...I don’t think I’ve ever formally introduced myself. My name is (Y/N).”

You move closer and extend your hand out, but it makes the man flinch. Seeing that he doesn’t want to accept your hand, you pull it back.

“I don’t know if the doctor told you but...I’m the one who threw a rock at you, which is why you have that injury. I came in to say that I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t respond to you. Rather, he stares as if he’s fearful for his life, his pupils shaking from seeing you. You take one more step, wanting to get to know him, but it makes him flinch.

“I hope you—”

“S-stay away from me…” He whimpers.

His voice is deeper than any man’s voice, and yet his tone is like a scared child. Even the way he pronounced each syllable is with a lisp and not proper, as if he’s slurring. Despite his masculine outlook with his broad shoulders, tall height, and sharp eyes, underneath that shell, he’s fearful and small.

On the right side of you is the bathroom, the door open. You face the mirror, looking at your reflection. You see yourself as an ordinary person, but this man probably sees you as something, not someone, else in his reflection.

Kim puts her hand on your shoulder, pulling you back gently. “Miss (Y/N), I think it’s better to leave him alone.”

You know it’s better to do that, but there’s an urge within you, pushing you to stay. There’s an internal battle between you and yourself, the desire to stay and talk to him but leaving him alone to rest. Ultimately, you choose Kim’s suggestion.

You take a few steps back, your courage slowly being broken down with each step. “S-sorry…”

Breaking from a blanked trance, you abruptly pace out of the room and to the lobby. Kim is left confused, her head turning back and forth between you and the man.

“Sorry about bursting into your room. I pray for a healthy recovery.” Kim runs off to find you.

———

You stand just outside the small and aging medical building, Kim eventually catching up to you.

“Hey! What was up with that?”

No response.

“Miss (Y/N)...? Hello?”

“I...I don’t know.”

You couldn’t quite understand it either, unsure of what it was that made it okay to visit him. Despite his amnesia, it seems like he’s aware that you’re the one who injured him. With your behavior worrying her, Kim puts her hands on your shoulders, shaking you slightly.

“Do you know that guy?”

“No...no, not really.”

This is the first time you’ve met him, but there’s something about that man that you can’t put your finger on it. Perhaps it’s the guilt talking to your rationale or the urge to talk to somebody who’s close to your age. You just can’t let go of this.

“Well, you shouldn’t worry about it. The sheriff let you off, so you don’t have to take care of him.”

What Kim says floats over your head. You’re not doing this to appear like a law-abiding citizen. There’s this unconscious instinct that’s pulling you to him. It sounds unrealistic and dramatic, but there’s no other way you can describe this feeling. You turn around, staring at the medical building.

———

“What do you mean I can’t visit?”

In the main lobby, the doctor is sitting behind his desk, reading the newspaper. He lowers his glasses to give you a hollow glare. It’s the next day, and you decided to visit the man a second time but your visitation has been turned down by the doctor.

“Visiting without the patient’s permission, especially consistently, is harassment. I’ve been notified of what happened yesterday, so to protect each patient’s safety, I advise that you leave him alone.”

“But I’m not doing anything bad. I just want to talk to him.”

“I know you don’t have malicious intentions, but he’s still recovering from the head injury. Plus, the police are investigating, so it’s better if you leave him alone to avoid trouble.”

“I know, but…” You trail off.

“And you should be resting as well. You’re slightly anemic and are lacking some sugar in you. I’d say run to the store and buy some ice cream.”

Despite that, you stand still. Eating for your physical health’s sake isn’t your priority, but to see the man again. The desire to see him is just as haunting as seeing delusions of your little sister.

He raises an eyebrow, folding his newspaper up and leaning over his desk. “Why are you so persistent in talking to him? From as far as I can tell, you two don’t know each other.”

He’s asking a question that you don’t know the answer to. He waits for a response, but nothing. You seem hesitant, figuring out why it’s your first instinct to see him. You just have to, but if you tell him that, then he’ll most likely kick you out anyway for an absurd reason.

Seeing as you won’t say anything, he leans back, returning to his newspaper. “Well then, I’m sorry but without a proper reason, I can’t let you see him.”

“But…!”

He sighs, losing his patience with you. “I will call Sheriff Tusk if you don’t leave us alone.”

With the threat of police involvement, it pulls you back. You turn to the door, your shoulders raised up.

“Damn city people, thinking they can do whatever they want.” The doctor whispers.

You stop in your tracks. Normally, you don’t let insults like these get to you, but his tone made it seem like you’re scum. You’re not being stubborn because you think you’re superior to the rest of them, but he paints it that way.

With your eyes filled with red, you spin around, marching right back at the doctor. He notices right away, lowering the newspaper and preparing for an attack from you. You clench your fist, getting ready to let him know what’s been in your mind and conveying that through a punch.

But you purposely look away from him, looking at the corner of the room, your inner voice telling you to stop. When you get to his desk, you nearly slam your hand on it before the last nanosecond, pulling the force back and your fists making a soft landing.

You stare straight into the doctor’s shaking eyes. You exhale heavily, cooling down your temper. “Sorry. I just wanted to say that mold is growing in the corners. You should give it a look.”

He raises an eyebrow, questioning your mental state. Absolutely nothing made sense, not even to you. You turn around and pacing out of the building. He fixes his glasses, having no clue what just happened. He looks at the corner, seeing the black mold growing.

———

Outside of the medical building, you crouch into a fetal position, hiding your face in your knees. You don’t know what’s going on with you. You don’t have full control of your body, and it’s scaring you. One second, you’re oddly pulled toward that strange man, the next second, you let your anger take the driver's seat. You’re beginning to think that you belong in an insane asylum.

“Oh my, what in the devil’s name are you doing?” Margaret jogs to you.

She crouches over, rubbing your back. She takes your arm and helps you stand up. You’re confused, not knowing who’s touching you or where you’re at. You come back to your senses when you see Margaret’s face.

“Don’t be sitting in the snow like that, you crazy woman! Look at you, dressed like a whore out here in the cold and only wearing a thin layer of clothes!”

Calling you a ‘whore’ was a bit uncalled for, but you don’t get angry.

“Jesus Christ, that damn doc discharged you early. That scum of a doc probably let you go early because he’s too lazy to take care of you. C’mon girly, come to my place.”

She holds onto you, letting you lean on her to her place.

———

In her kitchen, Margaret sets a tray of cookies from a tin box in front of you with a warm cup of coffee. You sit with your knees close to your chest, curled up in a ball. You pick up a cookie, but the edges start crumbling. After a bite, it practically falls apart in your mouth and makes your throat dry. You take a sip of the coffee, clearly tasting the stale flavor of the grounded beans and sink water combined. You try not to make a bitter look, but you can’t help it.

“That boy has been stirring shit up even though he’s the one being holed up in that den. The whole town has been talking about him.”

She takes a seat next to you, putting sugar in her coffee and mixing it with a spoon. She takes a sip, smacking her lips after tasting her awful coffee calmly as if this taste is normal to her.

“But seeing a young man is definitely a breath of fresh air. Like with you and your Kimmy friend, it’s rare to see youngins here. Maybe he was with those contractors from the other day and got separated from them.”

It’s the most sensible explanation, but it doesn’t explain why he was alone in the forest. If he was a part of those businessmen, then he would’ve long since gone into the town and asked for help.

“What were you doing there, on your knees like you were prayin’?”

Once again, there’s that hesitation. She looks at you, ready for you to spill your heart out, but two decades of being a closed book, it feels way too strange to share. Just from your silence alone, she can tell that you’re not comfortable yet.

“You know that by clamming it into your brain ain’t gonna make it better. Even if you don’t tell me, I know exactly why you’re freaking out like your ass’s on fire.”

It’s a weird simile, but you take it.

“I know your struggle, but it ain’t like I understand it though. That’s why you gotta explain it.”

You hold the cup with your two hands, looking down at your reflection in the coffee.

“Don’t think that just because you’re all grown up now that I don’t remember what happened to you and Annie. I’ve lived here for thirty years, and every single kid who went missing here has been imprinted in my head. If there’s someone you want to talk to, don’t be afraid to talk. Or…” Margaret wipes imaginary dust off your shoulders, raising her eyebrows and smiling widely like a cartoon character. “I’m wrong and you crushin’ on that boy.”

“What the…? No.”

“Lady, don’t hide it. I saw how much you were beggin’ to see that young lad. I know young love when I see it.”

“It’s not even remotely close,” You don’t know how this turned romantic suddenly. “It’s normal for someone with decent morals to make sure that the person they harmed is okay.”

“Whatever you say, girly.”

It was so long ago, but now you remember. That time when you first came here, Margaret also told your parents to scram. Being no taller than your mother’s waist, she looked like a giant—a real-life monster scaring you to death. You can’t recall the exact words, but she must’ve been just as hostile as she was with you and Kim on the first day. But with the lens of an adult, now you know that those shouts were for concerns. She must’ve seen you and Annie and knew what ill fate was about to occur.

You look out the window and at the clinic. That man is still in his room, doing God knows what. “Margaret, don’t get the wrong impression, but how much are your flowers and candy?”

———

One of the good things about this clinic is that it’s open 24/7, but the doctor sleeps at his desk. You open the door carefully, making sure that you don’t make a noise. You keep your eye on the doctor, nervous that he’ll wake up. In your hands is a bouquet of flowers and on the other is a grocery bag. You move your hands as little as possible, holding two of the loudest objects in your arms. Luckily, you manage to pass by without waking him up, your feet lightly making its way up the stairs and to the man’s room.

As you sneak through the halls, you’re beginning to think of yourself as a creepy person. You really went through the lengths to see a man who you’ve harmed once and spoken to once. You’ve always been questioning your mental stability, but this is pushing it. A part of you wants you to run out, but you’ve already put yourself deep into this mess to leave.

You make it to his bedroom, a single light coming from behind the curtains. You knock on the door, and although you don’t get a response, you can hear the sheets fluttering. You put your hand on the doorknob, but then you pull back, the reality of the situation hitting you hard. Sighing heavily, you think it’s best to leave. At this rate, what you’re doing can get you into massive trouble.

Just as you turn around, you hear a loud bang in the man’s room, followed by the ringing echoes of metal objects dropping. You scrunch your shoulders up, nearly screaming at the sudden loudness. This prompts you to open the door and check what happened.

In the room, you look around, but only darkness wraps around you, taking seconds for your eyes to adjust to it. On the ground is the man, squirming around, entangled in the blanket. You’re unsure of what to do, placing the grocery bag and bouquet on the bed. You attempt to pull the sheets off of him, but his kicking and punching creates a struggle for both of you.

“Hey, you don’t need to move so much…!”

After a while, you’re able to pull it off. When he sees you, he freezes, and you as well. You move back, on your knees, but having no idea how to explain why you’re here, you scratch the back of your neck.

“So uhm...what were you doing on the floor?”

Why did you even ask that, you idiot?! You want to slap yourself, but you remain cool. The man stares at you, having no idea how to answer you. If anything, he seems more frightened than shocked to see you. You try to think of anything to reassure him that you’re not a threat.

You grab the bouquet from the bed and show it to him. “This is for you.”

He stares at it curiously, like he doesn’t know what it is. He reaches over to grab it, but he pulls his hand back.

“Wh...where did you get this?”

“...I got it from the store…?”

Since it’s winter, most of the flowers have been shipped from other areas, but Margaret’s shop didn’t have that many, so the bouquet is rather small. He eyes it in awe as if he’s never seen these before. He pulls a rose out, inspecting every angle. He bends the stem, then picks a petal off. He does it again, and again, and again until his lap is surrounded with red petals. What’s left of the rose is the crooked stem, and the thorns.

He sweeps the crimson petals into a pile, finding the smoothness of it satisfying, pinching them in between his thumb and index finger. He raises his head, giving you round, innocent eyes, pointing at himself. “Are these for me?”

“Y-yea…”

You almost forgot about the second half of the gift. You grab the grocery bag, spilling the content all over the floor. It’s different kinds of candy—chocolate bars, jawbreakers, and gummy worms.

“When I came here last time, you were eating that pudding to death, so I thought you’d like to have more sweets.” You don’t even know if he’s supposed to be consuming this much sugar, but you thought that you just had to buy him these.

You give him a watermelon-flavored hard candy. He tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. That’s when he pops the candy into his mouth, not bothering to remove the wrapper.

“Ah! What are you doing?! Spit it out!” You sit up, pulling yourself closer to him.

Startled by your raised voice, he flinches at first, raising his arms up like you were about to hit him. He spits out the candy immediately, that childish curiosity disappearing. You move back, wondering if your loud tone scared him.

“You...you can’t eat it like that. You have to take off the wrapper first.”

You wait for him to pick up the wet candy, but he doesn’t. Not wanting to pick up the saliva-covered candy, you pick up a different one, showing it to him.

“Copy me.”

He picks up the one he spat out, pinching the wrinkled edges just like you. You pull it outward, the wrapper spinning and loosening. Once the twists come off, you unpeel the plastic, showing him a hardened sphere. You put in your mouth, letting the sweetness soak in your mouth.

“Like that.”

He does what you do, the candy twirling until it’s untwisted. He takes it out, eating it, and that’s when his eyes widen, astonished by how sweet it is.

“It’s sweeter than pudding!” He exclaims.

His enthusiasm for how sweet candy is is absolutely weird...yet endearing. For a man who’s around your age to behave like he’s experiencing sugar for the first time is abnormal, but it makes you feel...warm inside.

He tries to bite the candy, but he wasn’t expecting it to be this difficult and ends up hurting his jaw. “Ow…but it’s not soft like pudding.”

You hold back the urge to laugh. He definitely has been living under a rock if he didn’t know that he can’t bite it down so easily. That’s probably why the doctor gave him soft foods.

He reaches for another one, but you stop him. “What are you doing?”

“I want to eat another one.”

“I-I know it’s for you but...you should wait to have more in the morning. It’s not good for your teeth.”

He’s saddened, but he obeys. He folds his hand, but his eyes won’t leave the candy that you dropped everywhere. Unable to say no to his puppy eyes, you give him candy that’s easier to chew. Not letting him unwrap it himself, you open it for him.

“This is taffy. It’s strawberry flavor. I think you might like it.”

You give it to him, and lights sparkle behind his eyes. He eats it, savoring the taste. Seeing his smile makes you feel fuzzy, like seeing how genuinely happy he is for something as simple as getting candy makes you want to smile too.

“Uhm...I don’t know if I ever got your name,” but then you recall that he doesn’t remember his name. “Actually, wait...never mind.”

“...Taehyung.”

Taehyung? It sounds out of place for a town like Little Bare. He definitely isn’t from here, which only brings more mystery as to who he actually is. Other than that, it’s a unique name foreign to you.

“I’m...sorry for hitting you on the head. I wasn’t thinking straight and did something really stupid…”

“Yea, it really hurt,” he points out blatantly. “Just promise me that you won’t do it again. Not just to me, but to anybody else.”

It felt out of sorts that somebody as immature as Taehyung would give you a lecture, but you nod. “Promise.”

“Okay.” And just like that, he continues eating the taffy.

He scoots closer to you, losing the tensity in his muscles. Your determination to see him has finally died down, and now the timidness is entering your body. It’s impossible to distract yourself from him, watching him eat with absolute happiness, glad that you ignored the urge to run away and stayed.

You stare at the candies on the ground, the sensation of nostalgia overcoming you. You ate these when you were a child, and you ate these a lot with Annie, especially the watermelon-flavored candy. Since her disappearance, it was difficult for you to consume these again. But times have changed, and you bought these impulsively for Taehyung.

You bite the candy that’s in your mouth, breaking it into pieces to swallow, then putting the watermelon one in. Eating it was like going back in time, being that six-year-old, naive girl. You even ate this when you were here, fighting with Annie and not sharing one until your mother yelled at you to share. It’s such a trivial memory, but one that you remember vividly.

But this is the reason why you avoided anything relating to this town. It brings back memories that you tried so hard to bury deep in your head. You don’t want to be re-attached to emotions that you cut the strings to. You flutter your eyelashes, raising your head at the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. You can hear Annie’s laughter, holding her small, chubby hands as you two run through the snow. You exhale slowly, but it’s shaky, and your chest feels heavy.

“(Y/N)...are you okay?” Your trance is broken when you hear Taehyung’s voice.

You return to your senses, surprised that he remembers your name. “N-no...I’m just...I just haven’t...it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Taehyung tilts his head to the side, observing you fighting back the tears as you rub your eyes. With your eyes closed, he extends his hand out, reaching for your head, but when you open them back up, he pulls it back immediately.

———

“Oh no, Tae, what happened this time??”

“They were pushing me around again. They were throwing snowballs and telling me to go away. They kept telling me that they don’t play with immigrants. What does that mean?”

“...Ignore them. Tell me where they hit you.”

“My head...they kept aiming there.”

“A snowball is not supposed to hurt. Oh dear God...you’re bleeding again. Don’t tell me, did they put rocks in the snowballs again??”

“I don’t know...but it really hurts.”

“My poor child…”

“...Mom…”

“Yes?”

“...Am I an alien?”

“What? No! You’re Kim Taehyung, the strongest boy.”

“But...I’m skinnier than the rest of the kids. Plus...they keep saying that I have small eyes. I can never beat them at racing.”

“Taehyung. Do you know what’s the strongest forest animal?”

“What?”

“A bear. They’re huge and can beat up anything that stands in their way. But you know what else makes a bear strong? Not only physical strength, but their will power to stay alive too. You may be a cub right now, but when you grow up, you’re going to be the strongest bear in the entire world! You’re going to be so strong that you won’t need to hibernate like the rest of the grizzlies. That’s why, no matter what, Taehyung, you’ll always be my baby bear. When you’re in trouble, call for me and I’ll be there. I promise I won’t leave you. Now, let’s get you treated at the clicnic.”

———

“Are you insane??” Kim’s booming voice echoes across the inn. Kim’s hands are on her hips, like a mother scolding her child.

You’re by the edge of the bed, startled by her voice.

“Did you really think that the doctor wouldn’t see the things you left for that guy? The doctor told me everything this morning. What the hell were you thinking, sneaking into his room late at night??”

You sigh, unbuttoning your coat. “His name is Taehyung.”

“His name doesn’t matter. What matters is that you broke into his room. It’s already enough that you nearly got in trouble for injuring him, but this? This is pushing it!” She wants to say more, but letting her anger out on you won’t do anything to ease it.

The way she lectures you reminds you of Suniya, and it might be because Kim is beginning to understand what she meant when she said that you’re disconnected. Logic does not correlate with you and you do things erratically.

“But I didn’t hurt him this time. We had a little chat, and I gave him a few things.”

“But did it really have to be during the middle of the night?”

It didn’t, but there was no other way if the doctor was going to keep you away from him.

“Is it because you felt bad?”

“...I guess? He’s a really nice guy. You should talk to him. Everything he says is interesting.”

You don’t need her to tell you that what you did was wrong, but perhaps she’s doing it because of how nonchalant you are.

“Miss (Y/N)...you can’t forget about why we’re here. This isn’t a vacation, we’re working, and we both haven’t even jotted down a single word. Fooling around with a stranger—”

“Taehyung.”

“...Taehyung...Talking to him is going to waste more time. He’s not paying for our meals.”

You fold your hands on your lap, glaring at it. She can tell you feel a little guilty, so she tries figuring out how to talk to you without you becoming withdrawn. She takes a seat next to you, but makes a clear gap between you and her.

“Remember why we’re here. There’s a story that we have to tell, right? To warn people that this place isn’t meant to be lived in.”

You pick on your fingernails, fully aware of your purpose for being here...but seeing Taehyung was almost like a calling...That night, talking and eating candy on the floor, it felt like an eternity since you last spoke to someone that didn’t have anything to do with work. Even though you’ve never met him before, it felt like you’ve known him for years.

“Yea...yea, yea. I know.”

“If you know, then let's start our work today. We’ve gotten comfortable with this place, so let’s start by interviewing the townspeople.”

“Okay.”

———

Laying on his back is Taehyung, raising his arms up and staring at the candy wrapper. He covers the ceiling light with the wrapper, and he smiles while thinking of you.

“Taehyung, focus.” The doctor snaps his fingers.

Taehyung flinches and crunches the wrapper in his hand. Sitting on a stool next to the bed is the doctor with a clipboard.

“Answer my questions. Have you recollected any memories since your stay here?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“Nothing?”

He nods.

“So is it really your name that you only remember?”

He nods again.

“And you have no idea where you’re from? Not a clue?”

He shrugs his shoulders. His lack of vocal response irritates the doctor slightly, but forcing Taehyung to answer won’t solve anything either.

“Well then, your health is improving exponentially, so you’ll be discharged soon. If you still can’t remember who you are, then we have to figure out where you can stay.”

The doctor gets up and leaves the room. Waiting in the hallway is Sheriff Tusk, his arms crossed. They look at each other, disappointed looks on their faces.

“Anything?” Tusk asks.

The doctor shakes his head. “I can’t get anything out of him. He’s got the mentally of a child stuck in a man’s body. Despite that, he’s recovering at a rapid pace, faster than an average person. His internal injuries are practically gone and all he has left is for his scar to go away. But...something did happen last night.”

“What?”

“That city chick, (Y/N), snuck in here.”

Sheriff Tusk throws his head back. “What in the hell…? For what?”

“To drop off some gifts for him.”

“...You don’t think she’s tryna coerce him? She is the reason why he’s here.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I have no clue. I’m not sure if you remember, but she’s the one with the missing sister.”

“Oh, that’s the girl? Why the hell is she back here for?”

“From what Margaret said, she and her friend are here to write a book.”

Sheriff Tusk sighs, running his hand through his beard. “Fucking shit...It’s already enough that those goddamn contractors keep coming back…”

“Well, technically the girls aren’t causing harm, so far. I can have Margaret keep an eye on them.”

“Alright...I’ll continue with the investigation. For now, make sure that that young man doesn’t leave. Once I get things together, I have a few questions for him too.”

The doctor nods and Tusk walks off. Once the sheriff walks out of the building, he turns around and returns to Taehyung’s room. But when he opens the door, he nearly has a heart attack from Taehyung, who stands inches away from the door.

“Jesus Christ…! What are you doing out of bed?!”

“I heard you say (Y/N). Is she here?”

He thought that he and the sheriff were speaking quietly, so he wasn’t expecting Taehyung to eavesdrop, but he forgot that the walls are thin. He’s worried that he might’ve heard what they said, but he simply stares at the doctor with curious, naive eyes.

“No, she isn’t.”

“Do you know when she’s coming back?”

“No idea. Just go to bed.”

The demand from the doctor saddens Taehyung. He drops his head, slugging his feet across the room and back to his bed. Just like what Tusk said, the doctor is concerned that you might’ve influenced him to ruin the investigation between you and him, but it seems like he really likes you.

He puts his hands in his pocket. “Taehyung, be truthful with me. Did (Y/N) say anything to you?”

Taehyung rummages through his pockets and shows the doctor a handful of plucked petals and candy wrappers. “She showed me how to eat candy and gave me flowers. When you eat it, you have to take off this cover-thingy…” He pinches the wrapper.

“Mm-hm, okay. Anything else?”

“...Hm...oh, she also seemed kind of sad.”

“She what?”

He tries copying what you did last night, raising his head up and staring at the ceiling. “She wasn’t crying like a baby, but her eyes got watery.”

It’s no surprise. When the doctor first saw you, you seemed like a broken person upon first glance. But he didn’t want to say anything, believing it might’ve been too sensitive of him.

“...I think she hates me.”

“Hm? What makes you think that?”

“You said that she told you that she threw a rock at me and was angry, then she looked sad when she was with me. I think I hurt her before I forgot my memories.” He has a sullen look on his face.

Pitiful is what the doctor would describe Taehyung. His way of thinking is too pure...too black and white. There’s no complexity in him, so if the doctor were to discharge him, he would have no chance of surviving out there.

He leans over and pats Taehyung on the back. “She said that it was an accident and is sorry. Forget about it.”

“...But I can’t...How do you make someone forgive you?”

“You can’t make someone forgive you. Even if you’re the one who made the mistake, it’s up to the other person if they can fully accept what you’ve done,” he pokes Taehyung’s forehead. “Sometimes you think that seeking forgiveness comes from others, but it’s also forgiving yourself with what you’ve done.”

It’s too confusing for Taehyung to grasp what he means.

“But that’s saying if you really did something awful to her. Do you know if you actually hurt her?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I...don’t know. I think I did, but I can’t remember. I just don’t want to see her sad.”

The doctor can see the clear self-frustration in Taehyung. He’s convinced that he wronged you, but the real challenge comes from how he did it. But seeing him battle with himself, it leaves the doctor with a lingering thought… “I know you told her not to see me...but is it okay if I see her again? I want to say sorry to her.”

The doctor hums, thinking about that request. “I can’t make promises, but we’ll see.”

“Okay, thank you!”

———

“Don’t bother seeing him again.”

“What?!”

Later that day, the doctor came to visit you and Kim at your inn to drop the request. “You trespassed into private property and caused mental harm to my patient. And don’t you think it’s smarter to leave him alone, especially when you’re being suspected of physically harming him?”

“…I know what this is about.” You clench your fists.

“Miss (Y/N), please don’t…”

“You’re just doing this to spite us! You hate people from the city, so you’re treating us like shit!”

“Miss (Y/N)!”

“That’s what you think. But you shouldn’t be talking to someone who took the time to nurse you back to health.”

“Don’t use that excuse to justify your shitty behavior!!”

With your face turning red, Kim gets up and pulls you back from the doctor. You jerk your hands off.

“I don’t need an excuse when we have people here taking advantage of my town and the people living here for money. If you want to make money somewhere else, then do that instead, not my home.” He walks away.

“WAIT! COME BACK HERE!!” You shout.

“Miss (Y/N), stop it!!” Kim aggressively pulls you back, shutting the door to prevent you from running out. “What the fuck is going on with you?!”

“Don’t you see it?? He’s just doing that because he fucking hates us! I’m not doing shit to Taehyung!!”

“But he’s a doctor, you should listen to him!”

“Degree or no degree, you don’t need a Ph.D to be a complete asshole.”

“I can tell! Talk about yourself!” She blurts out suddenly.

However, she covers her mouth, regretting immediately with what she said. Her words pierce your heart, but in all honesty, you needed that slap in the face. You weren’t looking at yourself to realize how much trouble you were causing for others.

“Miss (Y/N), I’m so sorry I…”

“No...it’s okay. I needed that.”

“...But please...stop lying that you’re fine. You make it very obvious that something's bothering you.”

You sigh. “...I hate feeling guilty. It’s like...it’s all I could think of, and I hate it. That’s probably why I really want to see him. I can’t let this go.”

That heaviness in your chest caused by guilt is unfathomably painful—so heavy that it’s suffocating. You’re aware of your obsessive nature, and you’d like to control it, but it’s been so deeply rooted into your blood that even if you try to get rid of it, it’s almost impossible. That’s why it’s easier to pretend that the problem never existed rather than solve it.

“I’m sorry, Kim, for dragging you into this.”

Unlike the other conversations that they had before, it truly feels like you’re fully present. Your mind isn’t floating somewhere else, but here.

“It’s okay...people are bound to have their slip-ups. Just...listen to the doctor. I don’t want us to be kicked out.”

You bite on your thumb, not exactly agreeing to Kim, but just as she said, you don’t want to be forced out of town either.

———

Late at night, Taehyung is laying in bed, staring out the window as he counts the number of stars, even though he can count as far as ten. After hitting ten, he restarts and would end up counting the same stars repeatedly.

He hears a knock at the door, then the door creaking open.

“Hello…? Taehyung, are you here?”

Your voice brings a smile to his face, straightening his back. “I’m here!”

“Shh…” You peer over the corner of the wall. “The doctor is asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Did the doctor tell you to visit me again?”

“Ah ha ha...yea.” You avert your eyes.

He hears the rustling of the grocery bag in your hands. Curious, he looks down. “What’s in there?”

He bounces up and down excitedly. You take out the components in the bag, showing him some fruits and drinks. He’s in awe at the different foods you display on the bed, making his mouth water.

“Peaches!”

He picks up the pink fuzzball, almost taking a bite out of it before you take it away from him. “Wait!”

He slumps his shoulders, pouting.

“I didn’t get the chance to clean it, then I’ll cut it for you.”

You rush to the bathroom, rinsing the fruit before returning. In the bag, you take out a small pocket knife, cutting the skin and slicing it into pieces. He stares at it with wide eyes in awe, impressed by your cutting skills, even though it’s nowhere near astonishing.

You give him a piece, and he takes it, shoving it into his mouth and overwhelmed by the sweetness. “This is better than candy.”

“It’s more refreshing, isn’t it? I thought that since last time I brought you some unhealthy snacks, I’d give you healthier options. Well...that’s what I thought...but I couldn’t help but buy something else.”

You wipe your hands down on your jeans, but the stickiness from the fruit juice remains. You take out a can of soda, showing it to him, but leaving him confused. He creases his eyebrows, scratching his chin as if he’s trying to interpret what he’s looking at.

“...This is cola. You’ve had them before, right?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it.”

You open the can, the click of the carbonated fizz leaks out from inside. He’s so impressed by it, moving closer to the drink and smell the faint flavor of the cola.

You put it into his hand, and he hesitantly takes a sip. However, he gives a distasteful look, his face cringing from the strong fizziness of the drink. The face he makes makes it impossible for you not to laugh.

“It’s nasty…”

“I’m sure that if you keep drinking it, then you’ll love it for sure.”

He shakes his head, eating more peaches to get rid of the taste. Throughout the night, you show him the many different fruits, and he takes a bite with each one of them. No matter what it is, it will always astonish him, so keen to learn more.

Before you know it, hours have gone by, but it feels as though it’s only been minutes.

“How’s your head?” You ask.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, but the doctor is always asking me if I remember anything,” he makes a raspberry noise with his lips, falling onto the pillow. “That’s all we talk about.”

“Well...do you remember anything?”

He looks around suspiciously as if he’s making sure that there’s nobody else in the room. He leans over as if he’s going to whisper a deep, dark secret. “Don’t tell anybody, but I do remember a few things.”

“You do?”

He nods. “I remember them in frames, like still pictures. It’s foggy, but there are parts that came back to me.”

“What do you remember?” You lean closer.

“There’s a lot of snow, and I was sitting on the ground. It was really...really cold. Also, everyone looked taller and angry.”

Although it’s great that he has some memories come back to him, they’re vague. His memory is no different than how some of the townspeople treat you.

“Anything else?”

“...Oh, yea. There’s also a large cave in the forest too. I went there a lot.”

The mention of a save makes you shudder, and that’s when a wave of memories return for you. You know exactly which cave he’s talking about...the one you and Annie went to. You hug yourself, trying to forget about it.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

You blink profusely, nodding your head. “Y-yea...I’m fine. Taehyung, I have to ask you something.”

“Hm?”

“Did you...by any chance, ever run into a bear? Or a child? At the cave?”

He stares at the ceiling, shaking his head. “No.”

“...Do you even know about the Winter Bear story?”

He shakes his head again.

“...It’s...about a grizzly bear who’s the only bear in the entire world that doesn’t sleep during winter. Because of that, he gets lonely, so he kidnaps kids.”

Your knee begins shaking violently, motioning up and down at rapid speed. Taehyung’s eyes are fixated on your anxious knee.

“He...took my little sister a long time ago, and...it’s my fault. He...paid attention to me, and I liked it. And truth be told, I loathed my sister as much as I loved her.”

His eyebrows crease, not quite knowing what ‘loathed’ means.

“My parents, especially my mom, loved her to death. I still don’t know why. It might be because she was the baby of the family or if it’s ‘cause she resembles my mom a lot, but she was always favored. And imagine the horror that unfolded when they heard that their favorite child went missing and their least favorite child is to be blamed for.” You laugh at yourself.

You will never forget the look of terror on your mother’s face when you returned with your clothes torn and freezing. It wasn’t because of the state that you were in, but the fact that you returned without Annie. She immediately went around town, asking for help, and everybody searched to no avail. Your mother never directly stated that it was your fault, but the way she looked at you like she was going to throw up.

You so desperately wanted to apologize to her, but each time you tried it, she would change the subject. If you were insistent in talking about it, she would become violent. Items being thrown to the floor, her blood-curdling screams, those wide, gaping eyes glaring down at you like you’re vermin. It made you afraid of your own mother. That’s why you tried to bury your memories, and when you did, you either emotionally detached yourself or changed your thoughts to something else, just like how your mother did.

But every time you did think about your sister, you felt that immense guilt gulping you up. You would become manic—wanting to do anything possible to seek forgiveness. You would return to that fragile, little girl who wanted her mother’s love.

Taehyung searches through his pockets, giving you one of the candies that you gave to him. Some of the wrappers fall out of his pocket as well, but he ignores them. You raise an eyebrow, but he nudges for you to take it. It’s the watermelon flavor candy.

“The candies are so sweet there’s no room for bitterness. That’s what I learned after eating so much of it.”

You take it from his hand, unwrapping it and putting it in your mouth. And just like what he said, your tongue is overflowing with the sweet, sweet watermelon. When you look up at Taehyung’s face, making proper eye contact with him for the first time, you notice something odd. His expression is blank, but tears are falling.

You let out a single laughter. “Why are you the one crying?”

He didn’t need to say anything for you to know that he sympathizes, maybe even empathizes, with you. It always felt like when you said something, you got attacked in return. Whether it be Suniya nagging at you, Kim criticizing your rash behavior, those faceless comments on your article bashing you, or even your mother neglecting you when you tried mending the relationship, it felt like everything you did was a mistake. No one wanted to listen to you, and it made you scared to be honest.

He brushes your bangs away to get a better look at your face. Even though you barely know him, it feels like he’s been your longtime friend. Without thinking, you drop yourself onto him, hiding your face in his chest. You hold him tightly, silently crying on his shirt. He’s confused, as stiff as a rock. He slowly sets his hands on your back like an amateur hugger. But you’re no different either since you’re just as awkward as he is.

“I’m...sorry.” He apologizes.

You laugh through the sobs. “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault.”

He doesn’t reply.

You forgot how sticky your hands are—Taehyung’s lint gets stuck on the palm of your hands. You rarely talk about yourself, but with Taehyung, it feels oddly comfortable around him. Just the look of his eyes alone, you knew that he wasn’t going to judge you. You didn’t need to get defensive because you felt safe.

“Thanks for listening to me.”

———

You peek through the crack of the door, waving at him one more time before leaving. He waves back, mouthing the words, ‘please come back soon’. You nod, gently closing the door. You sigh, slightly embarrassed for breaking down earlier. It’s not every day that you have a heart-to-heart conversation with someone, so it was new. But you can’t hide that little smirk on your face, like some of that weight on yours has been alleviated.

“Seems like no matter how many times I tell you, you think you’re superior to me.”

Startled, you nearly scream when you cover your mouth. You spin around and meet eyes with the doctor who seems unsurprised that you’re here.

“Uhm...I can explain.”

“No need. I give up on trying to convince you.”

“...Really?”

“I don’t know what you want from that kid, but it doesn’t seem like it’s bad. Just don’t pick on him.”

“I’m not.”

“Even if I did tell you to stop, you’ll just continue breaking in late at night.” He walks off.

That felt...a bit too easy. You thought that he was going to put up more of a fight, but it might be because of old age or because of your stubbornness, he was quick to throw in the towel. However, you aren’t complaining about this and if anything, plays in your favor.

———

For the next few days, you have been visiting Taehyung. You two wouldn’t do much but talk, and these conversations would go on for hours. For once, it didn’t feel like your life was single-colored, and his liveliness was contagious. You found yourself laughing and smiling a lot more than usual. But it isn’t as if you two are doing anything spectacular, just talking.

There are traits of him that you’ve noticed. He has these moments where he’s easy to read, like a child, but there are other times when he’ll blank out and you have no idea what’s in his mind. He’s always curious about the world and whenever there’s something that he doesn’t know, he would ask you. He doesn’t ask the doctor and always goes to you first.

“Taehyung?” You peek through the doors.

No reply. Instead, you hear the shower going off in the bathroom, so he must be taking a shower. You thought about waiting in the lobby, not wanting to scare him when he’s out of the shower, but you also think it’s better to stay. Even though you and the doctor came to terms, it’s still uncomfortable being in the same room as him since he hasn’t let go of his distaste for city people yet. Despite treating you horribly, the doctor isn’t harsh with Taehyung. There are times when he loses patience with him, but never gets angry.

And speaking of Taehyung, you’re startled when you hear a thud in the bathroom. Alerted, you rush to the room, twisting the doorknob and seeing him on the ground, completely wet. You get down on your knees, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“Oh, (Y/N), you’re here.”

“Are you okay?! What were you trying to do?”

“I tried turning on the water faucet, but I couldn’t turn the handle. I think I put too much strength and slipped after it turned on.”

“You should’ve asked the doctor for help,” you brush his hair. “Geez, your bandages are wet.”

“I do ask him, but he always looks like he’s annoyed at me every time I ask. I don’t wanna bother him anymore, so I wanted to try and do it myself.”

You groan. That damn doctor, only thinking for himself. “Don’t force yourself to do things especially since you’re still recovering. You should be resting instead.”

“...I’ve always done things by myself,” Taehyung slumps his shoulders. “Whenever I asked someone, they would always get angry.”

“Says who?”

“...Says everyone.”

‘Everyone’? You don’t know anyone other than you, Sheriff Tusk, and the doctor who visits him. Margaret would ask about him from you every so often, but you aren’t sure if she comes by either. Whatever it is, it’s bothering Taehyung, so much so that he’s so gloomy.

“Hey, you can always rely on me.”

He stares at you with wide eyes, but then he looks away, defeating himself before he gets the chance to smile. “But...you aren’t here all the time.”

“Well...good point,” you contemplate. “It’s not always possible, but just call my name and I’ll come to the rescue.”

It’s unrealistic. Obviously, you’re no superhero who can pop up to save the world with a single cry of help. You don’t want to give him hope and be disappointed when you don’t fulfill it. You feel like a parent—giving shallow promises just to shove his worries away, but at the same time, you’re being genuine.

“It’s a small town. I’m sure I can hear your voice. Besides, you were in trouble and I came in time to save you,” you pat him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s change your clothes.”

You grab him from under his arm, helping him get up. You walk with him to his bed. Once he sits down, you look through the cabinets for towels,  finding a white hand cloth folded on the third shelf. You go back to him, using the cloth to massage it over his wet hair, but not too aggressive to affect his injury. Whenever you wipe too hard, Taehyung’s face would scrunch up and he would put his hand on your wrist.

“(Y/N), do you have a family?”

“Hm? What’s this all of a sudden?”

“I’m just curious about you.”

“I do. I have a mom and a dad and...that’s it.”

“...Do you live with them?”

You shake your head. “I live alone.”

“Why?”

“It’s because...my parents and I don’t get along. After Annie went missing, my parents got divorced and I lived with my mom for a while. But I couldn’t stand living with her anymore so after I graduated high school, I moved out and lived on my own.”

“What does divorce mean?”

“You don’t know what it means?”

He shakes his head. “I heard people use it, but I never really knew what it meant.”

“It’s when a married couple doesn’t want to be together anymore and decides to separate.”

“Oh…”

“What about you? Do you remember your family?”

“A little bit. I don’t remember my dad, but I do remember some things about my mom. I think my mom left my dad when I was very young, so I lived with her. But we ran away from home and moved to a new place. I don’t know how she looks, but she always took care of me. And she always had bruises, too. But I don’t remember why.”

Your ears perk up when he brings up the notion of bruises. It definitely stands out. It makes you a little worried about what sort of environment Taehyung lived in prior to losing his memories.

“She also dressed differently from you. Actually...everyone from my memories doesn’t dress like you or the doctor or the policeman.” He tries to recollect his memories, but it only frustrates him more.

“Okay, okay. Don’t give yourself a headache. Take your time to remember everything.”

You continue to dry his head until you think it’s done. But just as you were about to leave, Taehyung places his hands on your waist to stop you from leaving.

Your cheeks turn red. “Tae-Taehyung? What are you doing?”

“Thank you…(Y/N), for visiting me all the time. Even though I’m a good-for-nothing, you keep me company.”

You scoff. “No one called you a good-for-nothing. And if anyone did, just ignore them.”

Without thinking, you pat him on the head, running your fingers through his damp hair. He peeks one eye out to look at your face, but when you two make eye contact, he quickly hides back into your stomach.

“You won’t leave me? I don’t have to be alone anymore, right?”

There’s no reason for him to question you, and you know full well that that can’t be the case. After all, you’re here for work, not to make friends. However, you can’t bring yourself to break his heart. The way his voice deepened, his tone sounding so...solemn. Like he experienced trauma that he never wants to go through again.

“I promise.”

And with that vow, he raises his head up, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes become smaller from how wide his smile is.

“I really like you, (Y/N), you know that?”

Your heart nearly skips a beat, then your ears turn red. You fan your face, telling yourself not to misread what he said. “Me too. I’m glad we’re friends.”

He raises his head up, a little upset. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What?”

“I mean…never mind.”

———

“Count very slowly to twenty, okay honey?”

A younger version of Taehyung nods his head.

“Close your eyes and cover them with your hands. Don’t peek because if you do, then you’re cheating. People don’t like cheaters.”

He nods again. “Are we playing hide and seek like the kids?”

In the middle of the forest, the woman has Taehyung stand against a dead tree. The woman cups his cheek with her icy hands, brushing his curly bangs back as she looks like she’s trying to fight the urge to cry. Her lips are curled inward, and she opens her mouth to speak. But finding difficulty in letting one word out, she lets out a shaky sigh, averting her eyes from Taehyung.

He can’t keep his eyes off of the purple and green bruises on her frail arms. His mother is so thin that she doesn’t have any fat in her. She doesn't even have muscles—she’s skin and bones. Her eyes look sunken, like her eyes are shrinking. However, Taehyung didn’t think too much about her mother’s malnourishment because his body looks just like hers.

“Y-yes. You know that I love you, right?”

He nods for the third time.

“O...okay...if you love me,  th-then close your eyes and don’t peek. And remember: you’re a strong bear—so strong that you can withstand the winter cold.”

He covers his eyes with his hands, counting from one. His mother waves her hand in front of him. When he doesn’t jolt from her hand, she takes this chance to flee. He keeps counting even after being the only one in the forest.

“Eight...nine...ten...elevephen...twelve...fo...four...four…? Fiveteen...si-six…” He loses count, though he thought it was strange that his mother made him count to twenty even though he can barely count to ten. “...Mom?”

———

“I came from Korea.”

In the room, the sheriff is keeping record as Taehyung continues.

“I think...my mom and I immigrated here a long, long time ago. She said that we had a better chance of living here than there.”

“By ‘long time ago,’ can you give me a specific time frame?”

“...I can’t. It was too long that I don’t know.” 

While he tries to recall his past, he looks out the window and notices you with Kim. Unlike the stoic faces he made, his eyes light up, losing interest on the sheriff and onto you. Tusk glances over to you, clearly sensing the light-hearted vibe coming from Taehyung.

He walks over to the window, raising his eyebrow. “You and that girl have gotten quite close.”

“I like it when she’s here.”

“Even though she’s the reason why you’re here in the first place?”

His smile disappears. The doctor and policeman are always dragging him down with pessimism, so he doesn’t like it when they talk to him.

“She did hurt me, but she’s trying her best to make it up. What she did is wrong, but I forgive her.”

But Sheriff Tusk doesn’t seem convinced. He sighs, closing his notepad. “Well, this is definitely a step forward. It looks like I’ll let (Y/N) off the hook, and I’m confident that you didn’t harm her either that night. If there’s anything else that comes up, then update me whenever you can.”

“Okay.”

———

You glance through Taehyung’s window, only able to see the top of his head. You aren’t sure what he’s doing, but you pray that he’s resting. You’re so distracted that you weren’t watching where you were going and nearly tripped over a rock hidden in the snow.

“Be careful!”

“I’m okay…”

“What were you looking at?” Kim looks up at the direction you were staring at, then she understands. “Is it Taehyung?”

You nod.

“You two became fast friends. I would’ve never thought that it’d be possible.”

“I guess it is.”

“What do you guys even talk about? You’ll go visit and be gone for hours.”

“Anything, but he likes talking about food mainly. Though, he likes almost everything that I bring in.” You smile unconsciously.

Seeing your cheeks turn red, that’s when it hits Kim. She smirks, elbowing you on the arm. “I get it.”

“What?”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“H-huh? What? N...No! Not like that.”

Not this again. You already went through this with Margaret, and you don’t want another misconception...right? You’re actually embarrassed to hear that in contrast to how indifferent you were when Margaret brought it up.

This is the first for Kim to see you in this state. You always appeared calm and collected—making almost every decision without hesitation. Having your more vulnerable side present makes you seem more human.

“If you try to deny it in that tone, obviously I’m going  to assume the other way around! You two hit it off pretty well in the beginning…I mean...You two got along great. You were even begging to see him.”

“Th...that…!”

“Why are you getting so shy? You’re a grown woman, no need to hide how you feel. You act like this is your first crush.” She laughs.

But when you don’t laugh along with her, that’s when she knew that her joke was true.

“Wait...you’ve never liked someone before?! I don’t mean to judge but...of all your years, you’ve never once dated??? Not even had a crush on someone??”

“Yea, I’ve never liked anyone before, but why are you assuming that I like Taehyung…?”

“You make it more obvious than the sky being blue. I’m not gonna lie, Taehyung is pretty handsome. Maybe if he didn’t act childish then I would’ve probably liked him too.”

“It’s not that he’s childish...More like, he’s very curious. But as I  said, I don’t like him in that sort of way.”

“Mm-hmm, you can deny it all you want. It seems like Taehyung’s into you, too. Well...no doubt since you’re the only person to ever talk to him and is around his age.”

You like being around him, but you’re not sure if you like him in that sort of way. You two barely met a few weeks ago, so it’s too premature to be walking through romance territory. Despite it being a few weeks, it truly does feel like you two have known each other for a long time though.

“Well, don’t be in denial for too long. We don’t have much time here until the train comes back, and I don’t think you would want to leave with regrets.”

“I know.”

You don’t like thinking about that. It’ll dishearten him, as well as you, when the time comes. But eventually, you have to tell him that you’re going back home.

“...You said that you’d like him if he wasn’t childish...What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why are you so curious? I meant what I said.”

“So you’re saying you have a chance with him?”

She’s confused, but it takes her a while before realizing your intentions. She elbows your ribcage, laughing. “You’re jealous!”

“I’m...I’m not! I’m just wondering…!”

Kim never realized how easy it is to read you at times. You and Kim continue your conversation until you two return to the inn. As you two walk off, Taehyung watches from his window.

———

“Who’s the lady with you?”

“Lady?”

You’re in the hospital room, peeling the skin of an apple with a knife. The snow has been getting heavier these days and it’s been like this for a while now. The sky has become cloudy, and there’s no sign of the sun anywhere.

“She was with you when you first came here, too.”

“Oh, Kim? We’re acquaintances. We barely know each other.”

“Really?”

“Yea.”

“Oh, okay. I thought you two were friends.”

“No, not really. She’s a nice woman though. Why do you ask?”

He keeps quiet, picking on his blanket as he sulks.

“I don’t have that many friends. The only other person that I talk to is my agent.”

His eyes widen.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“I thought you didn’t have anybody…”

You aren’t sure where he’s going with this. You set the sliced apples down on a plate, giving one to him to which he takes.

“I know a lot of people. It’s a part of my job as a journalist.”

“Are you...close with any of them?”

You’re confused with why he’s interested in your personal relationships. That’s when you get the hint, making you smile. “I’m not close with any of them.”

He sighs in relief and you laugh. Surprised by your laughter, he becomes embarrassed. “Wh-what??”

“Are you trying to make me feel bad about not having that many friends?”

He seems confused, so you realized that your initial assumption was wrong. His cheeks turn red, pouting. “That’s not it.”

You tilt your head, confused.

“I thought you didn’t have any friends or close family, so I was surprised with how close you were with that lady.”

“I know a lot of people, but it doesn’t mean that I’m close with them,” after Taehyung finishes one apple slice, you give him another. “Every relationship that I have with someone is different from the other. Like you and Kim for example. Kim is like my current work partner, and you’re…like a friend.”

It’s unusual to call somebody your friend. It was so easy for you to push others away, but Taehyung is the first person that you want to be close with. There was something about him that attracted you—like a fly buzzing toward a light.

And like an attractive light, Taehyung’s smile is just as bright. “I’m glad that I’m your friend.”

“Yea...me too.”

You thought about what Kim said, about how you feel about Taehyung. Of course, he’s a joy to be around—that bubbly yet curious personality of his is hard to dislike. It’s the sort of trait you don’t see too often in adults, especially in the big city, so it’s a breath of fresh air.

You peer over at the window, and it doesn’t seem like the weather is going to calm down. If anything, it looks like it’s going to get worse overnight. It’s so bad that you can’t even see a few feet in front of you.

“Oh no, it looks like there’s going to be a blizzard.”

The inn isn’t that far, and if anything, it won’t be an issue crossing over. But that isn’t the problem. Just the thought of going through a blizzard makes you feel...uncomfortable. Unwanted emotions return, the kind that darkens your mind.

Taehyung can sense the tension, so he thinks of something to bring you back. “Will you be okay?”

“Yea...I think so.”

But he isn’t convinced. Your face says it all, and you don’t want to go out there. He contemplates, then a light bulb turns on when an idea sparks.

“How about you stay here for the night?”

“Huh? No, I’m fine. It’s just snow, and this is a place for patients. I don’t want to take up space.”

“No one comes here and it gets a little lonely at night. If you go out tonight, you might get sick, then you’ll have to stay here for sure.”

“What are the chances that I get sick? Besides, the doctor might not—”

“I don’t mind.” The doctor shouts from the lobby.

His voice catches you by surprise. You didn’t think he could hear you two talk, so now it makes you conscious about how much he’s eavesdropped. The walls truly are thin here.

“See? Stay here tonight.” He reaches over, grabbing your hand.

His thumb strokes your knuckles and he gives you puppy eyes. You can’t say no to him when he gives you that look. You cover your mouth, hiding your burning cheeks as well.

“Okay...I’ll sleep in the room next door. Do you know if the doctor has any spare toothbrushes?”

“Yes, I do.” He shouts from the lobby again.

You sigh, wondering how much he’ll keep listening. “Thanks…”

———

You and Taehyung are brushing your teeths in the same bathroom. While you’re looking at yourself in the mirror, Taehyung is fixated on you. He’s trying to copy how you brush your teeth. Whenever you brush your right teeth, he does the same. When you move to your left, he does that as well. When you spit out the foam, he does the same.

After washing your face, you head to your room, and Taehyung follows. You look behind, stopping, and he stops as well. He’s holding a pillow and blanket, giving you the hint that he wants to sleep with you.

“What are you doing?” Even though you know, you still want to ask.

“I want to go to the same room. I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“But isn’t your room fine as it is?”

“Yea but...it doesn’t have you in there.”

You blush. “But sleeping in the same room is…”

He tilts his head, puzzled. With that innocent look on his face, you don’t want to say any further.

“Anyway, we shouldn’t sleep in the room.”

“But we stay in the same room during the day, and for a long time too. What’s wrong about sleeping in the same room?”

“It’s just…”

You know that he won’t do anything to you, but just the thought of sleeping in the same room is a bit too much. You truly are immature—being a woman in her mid-twenties and is still conscious about sleeping in a room with a man, not even the same bed.

“Is it because there’s only bed? You can sleep there and I can sleep on the couch! If you don’t like that, then I can move my bed into your room and—”

“That’s not it. We’re just going to be next door, so if you ever need anything, then just knock.”

He looks disappointed, but he doesn’t push further. “Okay…”

“Then...good night.”

“Good night.”

You walk to the room, and you look behind one more time, waving. He smiles and waves back. It’s saddening to see him look forward to sleeping in the same room as you, but you don’t want to push boundaries. You keep telling yourself that this decision is for the better.

———

The children are having a snowball fight. Just on the outskirts of the small  town, the kids build fortresses out of snow, using it as a shield to avoid the offense team. They’re running around and laughing, thankful for it to be snowing so they can play.

But approaching them with small steps is Taehyung, still as a child, his hands clasped to his thin jacket. He’s shaking violently, his skin so pale and frozen cold. His hair is a mess, dirt marks smeared all over his skin. His bottom lip trembles and has turned blue, but he still smiles.

His stench can be smelled from the distance, disrupting their fun. The smell of sweat is Taehyung’s signature scent, like a foreboding sign that he’s drawing near. He’s gotten skinnier since the last time he came to Little Bare. Bags hide underneath his eyes, his round cheeks absent.

“It’s Taehyung. Run away!”

The children hide behind the fortresses, and this hurts Taehyung. However, he remains determined and keeps smiling. “Can...I play with you guys?”

But his request isn’t heard. The children are occupied with making snowballs, combining it with the rocks on the ground to create spiky snowballs. They make enough to form a pile. They start throwing them at Taehyung, and although the first few miss, some hit his body.

He raises his hands up, using his hands to block his face. He runs off, but right at the last moment, one child is able to nail a snowball perfectly at the back of his head. THACK! Only he heard the impact to his head. It was hard enough that he fell forward, his face landing first.

The children laugh. “Hurry! Run before the hungry boy eats us!!”

They skip away to their homes. He loses consciousness for a few seconds before groaning. His head pulsates, touching where it hurts but immediately pulls his hand away because of how painful it is. Underneath his breath, he calls for his mother. He calls for her many times, but no matter how many times, she doesn’t return to rescue him.

Still, he wants to believe that his mother will return. She’ll return to him to make him a warm meal under a roof. He’ll finally get to eat candy like the rest of the kids, and maybe, just maybe, the kids will let him play with them. But for now, he has to prove that he’s strong in hopes that his mother will want him back.

As he gets up, limping as his desire to conform with the kids slowly turns into disgust. The animosity grows as strong as the dizziness that blurs his vision. He limps for what felt like hours until he returns to his new home—a large, ominous cave. The mouth of the cave is dark and hollow, like it can suck anyone of any size in.

He leans on the rocky walls, scratching his arm while dragging his body deeper into the darkness. He places his hand on the wall, leaving bloody handprints and smearing them as he moves. He falters, landing face first, which worsens the damage to the head. He turns his head to the left, and there’s a mysterious marking of a grizzly bear with strange symbols around it. It’s been there ever since he found the cave.

His vision blackens as his eyelids become heavier. One tear drops from his eye, apologizing to his mother that he couldn’t be as strong as she hoped for. Within two weeks of her disappearance, he’s giving up. Fighting became a chore, and now sleeping seems like a better option.

And thus, he closes his eyes for good. And the last thing he thought of was a wish. A wish that he could’ve made at least one friend.

But before he does, the drawing of the grizzly bear on the wall begins to glow.

———-

Taehyung gasps for air, clawing at his throat. He felt pressure on his chest, and it was so clustered that he could’ve sworn that he stopped breathing. He sits up, not realizing that he had been crying in his sleep. Looking down at his pillow, there’s a large puddle of tears and on his eyes as well.

He brings his knees closer to him, covering his ears as he squeezes his eyes shut. Stop it. I don’t want them anymore, he repeats in his head. His memories are terrifying, as if every time he goes back in the past, all it ever becomes is jumping straight into a nightmare. Waking up from an unwanted dream makes this damp room seem scarier, like there’s no one to protect him.

“(Y/N)...” You’re the first person to come to mind. But when he calls for your name, you’re not there. He recalls that you’re sleeping in the room next door.

He gets out of bed, grabbing his pillow and blanket as he walks out of the room. He drags his feet to your room, knocking on the door.

“(Y/N)? Are you asleep?”

There’s no response. He looks at both ends of the hallway, paranoid that some evil ghost is going to appear in either direction. He clutches onto the pillow tighter.

“(Y/N)?”

The calm snow has turned into a blizzard again, and the gales whistle in the cracks of the windows. The wind shakes violently against the window, almost like a robber trying to break in. It scares him more, so he lowers his head, praying that you heard him.

“(Y/N)? Are you there?”

It reminds him of his childhood after his mother left. After wandering in the forest for a long time, he found a cave. While he was excited to live there, nighttime was never his favorite. The large opening left him vulnerable to wild animals to potentially attack him. And standing at the center of the hall reminds him of that, that exposure of his body to the cold world, his life taken away at any second.

“I’m scared...so please…”

The doorknob twists, startling him. He gasps, holding his breath in, but he lets it go when it was you that opened it. You’re rubbing your eyes, yawning. “Taehyung? What are you doing up so late?”

He hastily enters your room, closing the door for you. “Is it okay if I sleep here?”

You don’t make an immediate response, which scares him that you’ll decline.

“I had a nightmare.”

It might be because you’re half-asleep, but it doesn’t take that much persuasion to let him sleep. “Alright...but sleep on the couch.”

“Okay!” He takes baby steps to the couch, placing his pillow by the arm rest and lays down. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Sleep tight.” And just like that, you go to bed.

Taehyung watches you sleep, seeing as you’ve already knocked out within seconds. He tries to fall asleep as well, but no matter how many times he tosses and turns, he can’t sleep. He’s gotten comfortable being the person he is now, happy to be here and seeing you every day, not the depressed child who was abandoned by everyone.

Some time has gone by, and he still can’t sleep. He’s staring at the ceiling, listening to you breathe steadily. The nightmare he had is as vivid as ever, experiencing the phantom pain that came with the head injury.

“(Y/N)? Are you still awake?” Without a response, it tells Taehyung that you’re not.

He sits up, staring at you. He gives it a few seconds before getting out of bed. He stands over your bed before making the rash decision to sleep next to you.

He lays down, his face just mere inches away from yours. Despite being so close, he finds your face mesmerizing. He’s so close that he can feel your breathing.

Taehyung wanted to lay next to you just to see how it’s like to sleep next to someone. It’s so comforting knowing that there’s someone next to him, like the paranoia has been swept away. The longer he stares at you, the redder his face turns. Even though it’s the middle of winter, his face feels hot. He sees you every day, but he can’t understand why he’s nervous now.

He wants to move closer, but your hand is in between your and his face. Rather than move it away, he bites his bottom lip in contemplation. He’s already crossing the line, so he’s afraid that you’ll push him away if he tries too much.

He puts his hand over yours, intertwining his fingers. Your hands are smaller than he thought, his palm already engulfing it. Not only that, but your hand is so warm. Your fingers jolt, which nearly made him pull his hand away. But after that, you’re still. He sighs in relief.

Laying next to him is you, the person who’s taken care of him since the beginning. Judging on his fragmented memories, you’re the first person to ever fight to be with him. It doesn’t matter the reason, he’s just happy that someone thinks that he’s worth it. But at the same time, you’re the person who got him into this mess. You’re the one who threw that rock, just like the other kids. You made his head bleed like how they did. And yet…

He forgives you.

He gently presses his forehead against your forehead. He wished you could stay with him forever so that he can never experience abandonment again. Taehyung is afraid that you’ll end up being like his mother—crying for your name but you never coming to his rescue.

———

The blizzard has died down, and the blaring sun blinds your eyes. You flutter your eyes open, using your arm to cover them from the light. You sit up, exhaling as your vision adjusts to the morning rays.

“Good morning!” Taehyung exclaims as he opens the windows.

You had forgotten that he slept here last night. Even though it’s early in the morning, Taehyung is as energetic as usual.

“Did you sleep well?” You rub your eyes.

“Better than ever.”

You barely remember what happened last night. You know you got up to open the door, but after that, it was a blur. Taehyung also looks chirpier than usual, though you don’t know why. It could be because he got what he wanted and sleep in the same room as you. Whatever the reason, you’re glad that he’s smiling.

As you get out of bed and into the bathroom to wash up, he glances at you. His smile is gone, contemplating some thoughts in his head.

In the bathroom, you splash water in your face after brushing your teeth. You look at yourself in the mirror and massage your cheeks, feeling a little conscious about making weird faces in your sleep. You hope that you didn’t make any noises during the night either.

You walk out of the door, startled when Taehyung turns out to be just by the entrance. “Whoa! Sorry, did I almost hit you?”

But he ignores your question, folding his hands together. “(Y/N), I was just wondering...but you live in the city, right?”

“Yea, I do.”

“...When are you leaving?”

“Uhm...we’ve been here for a pretty long time now, so I think I have a few days until our train comes to pick us up.”

He looks pained just hearing that. “Then...if it’s okay with you, can I show you something before you leave? I think I finally know who I am, at least, the more important parts of myself.”

“This...came out of nowhere, but I’m glad you remember everything. What do you want to show me?”

“It’s...where I used to live. It’s not that far from here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You live near here? Sure, I don’t mind, but are you even allowed to go out?”

“...Yea. The doctor gave me permission to leave. Is it possible to go later tonight?”

Tonight? You’re unsure about it. It’s too dangerous, especially if you two stray too far away from the town. “Can’t we go tomorrow morning? It’ll be too dark if we go later.”

“I know, but I’m afraid that if we wait in the morning, then i’m going to forget. Please! It sounds crazy...a-and stupid, but I don’t want to sit around and wait anymore. There’s...something I want to confirm with myself. My memories are jumbled up, and I feel like if I go as soon as possible, then everything will make sense. If not, then can we at least go when the sun’s setting?”

You’re still hesitant about it. But seeing the desperation in his eyes, it’s apparent that with or without you, he’s going to go on his own. The tale of the Winter Bear is real, and if Taehyung is taken by it, then it’ll be blood on your hands. If not that, then a coyote can eat him too.

It’s that feeling of responsibility coming back again. If you say no and he’s in danger, you have to live with guilt. You can’t bear to lose another person because of your selfishness.

“O...okay, I’ll go with you. But only in the condition that we go back as soon as you show me.”

“Thank you so much!”

Even though he seemed happy earlier, there’s an air of seriousness. You thought it was strange that he lives near here, and despite Little Bare being so small, no one knew he had been nearby all this time. Although he’s vague about it, it does make you curious about him.

———

“You’re going out again?” Kim crosses her arms.

While back in the inn, you’re putting on your coat. The whole day has already gone by, and you’re going to meet Taehyung just like you planned. However, Kim isn't impressed by it.

“Is he even allowed to go out? It doesn’t seem like he completely recovered.”

You shrug your shoulders. “Apparently, the doctor said that it was okay.”

However, Kim doesn’t seem to agree with your answer. She creases her eyebrows, putting her index finger to her chin as if thinking.

“What?”

“You know...you’ve been seeing him a lot lately. More than actually doing work.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for not helping. Is there anything specific you wanted me to do?”

“No...it’s okay. I already have a basis for my book. Besides, if this was to help you reconcile with your past, then it’s alright.”

“...I feel horrible, like I didn’t help at all.”

She shakes her head. “No, you did a lot more than you think.”

You crease your eyebrows, not entirely sure what she means by that. Regardless, you’re glad that you somehow helped her, though not sure with what and how.

“But...I’m really curious. What relationship do you have with Taehyung? I know you told me that you just met him, but to be frank, whenever I do see you two talk, it seems like you guys have known each other for years.”

You don’t respond. This should be an easy answer, yet, you struggle.

“Miss Suniya told me about you. Mind if we chat for a little bit before you go?”

“Sure...” You sit down on a chair, then Kim sits by the edge of the bed. “What did she say about me?”

“She told me that you have selective memory loss.”

You’re not surprised that Suniya told her about your condition.

“I’m sure there are things that you do and don’t remember about this place, which is why it probably wasn’t so hard to convince you to come with me. The reason why I never bothered you to help me with the book is because I wanted to give you the chance to regain the repressed memories naturally.”

You don’t know where she’s going with this. “...Why is it important that I remember?”

“Well, I...this...you…” she stumbles with her words. “I just want to tell you that you’re a really special person.”

“...Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t think you understand how hard it was to get into contact with you,” She steps closer. “Miss (Y/N), you’re the only person who’s ever seen the Winter Bear and survived. You’re the reason why I became intrigued with this myth in the first place, but those blockbuster people paid news outlets to get rid of articles written about you to sell this myth as a friendly story, so I hit a dead end until I read your article and knew that I found you.”

Things are beginning to click, but you don’t like where this is going. “This...isn’t only about the myth...is it?”

“Do you not realize how big this story is going to be when I write about your encounter with the bear?! People are gonna go crazy over it, then people won’t look down on me for studying mythology. So that’s why, Miss (Y/N), I want to know your relationship with that Taehyung person. My instincts tell me that there’s more to him than what meets the eye.”

“So...you’re doing all this to make money?”

“Why else are we here?” Kim crosses her arms. “Miss (Y/N), don’t pretend to be a hero when we both know that you tagged along for the money, too.”

“This doesn’t feel right...and what about Taehyung?”

The misery that you went through only to be exploited for money is one thing, but for her to use Taehyung, it’s a different story. You’re so infuriated with her that everything in your vision turns red. You thought about punching her, but you manage to control yourself.

Kim gets on her knees, right before your feet. “Who cares about what he thinks? Miss (Y/N), we are writers trying to survive, aren’t we? No matter how many people compliment our writing abilities, words aren’t going to put food on the plate.”

“Stop it…”

You have a flashback of being a kid again, but in the hospital, being checked for any injuries. You didn’t show any physical pain, your mentality however…

“No, I don’t want to…”

“I need you to go back in the past and try. It doesn’t hurt to remember Annie, right?”

The image of your mother crouching over a chair, her face buried in her hands as she cries her heart out. You two are in the police station, waiting for any updates to Annie’s disappearance when a policeman broke the devastating news that they won’t continue the search.

“Don’t you want justice for your baby sister? So you need to come out and describe how the Winter Bear looks like.”

You cover your ears, fragments of your memories that you tried so hard to bury are returning to the surface. You remember the forest, knee-deep in the snow, meeting the friend you made during your stay here. You remember intertwining your pinky finger with your friend’s finger, promising that you’ll be friends forever. A childish vow that you wished you never committed. Because you also promised that friend that you’ll introduce Annie.

“So please, remember—”

“Stop it! I should’ve never come along with you!”

You get up from the chair, marching right for the door and slamming it behind you. Now standing on the other side of the door, you lean on it, rubbing your eyes as you grunt. You don’t want to remember; it’s better if they never come back. You like the way things are. You have nothing to worry about, you want to feel like there’s nothing to worry about. For now, you just want to see Taehyung.

———

At the front of the inn, Taehyung is already there, wearing a thick jacket but is still in his patient uniform. It’s already dark out, but you can see him clearly. When he sees you, he smiles and waves. However, you seem fazed with what Kim said. He’s quick to catch on to your discomfort, so he wraps his hands around yours. It catches you by surprise, but it goes away when he beams.

“How are you?”

“Great, how about you?”

“Good! It’s a lot colder than the last time I went outside.”

You chuckle. “Yea, you’ve been locked up in that hospital.”

“The hospital isn’t that bad. Anyway, are you ready?”

“Sure. How hard is it from here?”

“Not too far,” he takes you by the hand. “Come on, it’s already getting dark.”

He drags you to the direction of his supposed home. You look back at the inn, your senses finally returning and realizing that you’re really going to Taehyung’s residence late at night. You know you can trust him, but there’s something off about this that lingers in the back of your head. Yet, you don’t want to go back either, especially after hearing Kim’s real motive. You want to stay with Taehyung because you feel safer with him. Unlike many adults you’ve encountered, he’s transparent.

———

“Taehyung...are you sure you know where you’re going?”

As you two head deeper into the forest, the lights that came from the town disappear. You hold onto his hand tighter, fear crawling up your skin. It doesn’t help that it’s night either. In contrast to you, Taehyung is undisturbed.

“Yup, it’s beginning to look familiar.”

You regret choosing to go later in the day. If anything, you feel like a complete idiot for agreeing to go this late. It might be because you’re older and know the dangers of the world, but the woods seem far scarier compared to when you were a child.

“I don’t like this…! Let’s go back.”

After saying that, you hear a branch crack and it startles you. You let out a yelp, instinctively grabbing onto Taehyung’s arm. It doesn’t frighten him, so he’s clueless about why you’re afraid.

“If you’re scared, then hold on to me.”

Now conscious about your actions, you pull away, your cheeks flush with red. However, Taehyung doesn’t give you a chance to reconsider and drags you back into his arms. He wraps around your shoulders, squeezing you closer to his chest as he gives you a cheeky smile. You avert your eyes, sulking, but he’s not wrong about you being scared. You hold onto his shirt as you two continue walking.

To distract you from your fears, he changes the topic. “What kind of house do you live in?”

“Mine? Hm...well...it’s nothing fantastic. I live in a one-bedroom apartment.”

“That’s it?”

You nod. “It’s probably a little bigger than your private room back at the clinic.”

“Really?!”

“It’s small but so expensive...How about your home? I never got to ask if you live with anyone.” Though, judging by how no one that he knew came by to pick him up, he most likely lives alone.

“I live alone...and my home...is a little different from a normal home. It is big though.”

“Oh really? That must be cool. And to have it all for yourself too.”

“It was, and I thought it was cool because of how roomy it was...but it didn’t take for me to dislike it.”

“Oh...I’m surprised nobody has ever mentioned that you lived nearby...But speaking of your home, I was wondering, how long have you been living here?”

“Ever since I was a kid.”

“Really? And you’ve never ran into the Winter Bear?”

He shakes his head. “I rarely see bears in general.”

You thought it was strange how he’s lived here since he was a child and yet, he has never been kidnapped. If he’s lived here since he was young, then he would’ve been long gone.

“...My mother always told me that I’ll grow up to be strong. She said that I’ll be so strong that I won’t need to sleep like a bear who hibernates. And I believed her.”

Your ears perk up, listening to him attentively. You recall when Margaret that bears technically don’t hibernate.

“But a part of me thinks that it was mental training to prepare for when she abandoned me.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s when I found a home to live. It was hard living by myself. Kids from Little Bare made fun of me for being a dirty boy and threw rocks at me until I ran away.”

“What are you talking about…? Little Bare doesn’t have any kids…”

“I hated living alone because it was scary, and all I wanted was a friend, or anybody who was willing to keep me company.”

What he’s saying is beginning to sound suspicious. You slowly pull yourself away from him, and it doesn’t seem like he minds.

“You know...travelling through my memories...I’ve always seen snow. Little Bare is always snowing no matter what year it is.”

“Taehyung...Little Bare doesn’t snow all the time. You know that...right?”

“Yea...so I wonder how the other seasons look like. It’s been so long. I learned that snow soaks in all sounds, which is why it’s always quiet during winter. I hate the silence more than anything. I want to know how it’s like to live where it’s filled with laughter.”

Taehyung draws near to his home, which is located in the middle of the forest. Horror slowly seeps under your skin when you start noticing how...familiar this place is. It was difficult to see the resemblance because of how dark it is, but once your eyes adjust to it, it looks as clear as your memories.

“So...it’s a little disheartening to hear that you’re leaving soon, (Y/N). I was hoping you could be here longer.”

You know this place all too well. Your legs begin to tremble, mortified that you have returned to the place that you desperately tried to keep buried in your subconscious. Standing before you is a large cave, towering over you and Taehyung. It’s like a gaping mouth ready to swallow anyone that comes in.

You fall backward, your hands buried in the freezing snow. You can’t get your eyes off of the cave as you hear haunting cries of children’s souls trickling from the depths of the hellhole; one of them sounds exactly like Annie.

Taehyung sees the pure terror in your eyes, crouching over as he tries to help you up. However, when he reaches his hand out, you finally remember exactly who Taehyung is. It makes sense why it was so easy for you to get along with him and why it felt like you’ve known him for so long. Back when you were six years old, this very person is the cursed Winter Bear—the monster who took Annie away.

You swipe his hand away, so shaken that no words are expressed. Your breathing becomes unstable, panic sets in, and your mind goes all sorts of directions. You think about one thing, but your mind heads the other way. You see Taehyung’s mouth moving, but you can’t hear it, only muffles. You can only hear a static ring fly across your ears. Even in the freezing temperatures, you’re sweating bullets.

“(Y/N)...I—”

“S-STAY AWAY!” You crawl backward, swinging your hand side to side to defend yourself from him.

It’s that innocent look in his eyes again that you vividly recall. He was able to transform into a bear and a kid, but when you first met him, he was a child just like you who found you playing in the snow by yourself. He lured you in with fictional affection, promising that he’ll never let you be neglected. It was all a ruse to lock you in that cave, just like the hundreds of souls in there, including your little sister’s.

He looks hurt, but he understands. Right as your memories are coming back to you, it’s returning to him as well. The screams of his victims, the scared look on their faces as they try to escape, and his vicious obsession of chasing after them. He pulls his hand back, knowing full well the crime that he committed twenty years ago. Just one glance at you and he knew that you won’t forgive him. So when you fled, he didn’t bother to chase after you.

All you hear from behind is the aching cries of a young man.

———

Keep running.

Don’t look back.

Focus in front of you.

You run through the forest without a light source. You don’t even know if it’s the right direction back to town, but anywhere is better than there. It was just like that time when you narrowly escaped Taehyung’s grasps. He was so occupied with your sister that he lost sight of you. Just like history repeating itself, you barely escaped his grasp.

You hate yourself for falling into his trap for a second time. Like a pied piper luring children, it was like his curse never uplifted. No wonder it didn’t take a lot for you to turn down the chance to come back to the town. You never learned from your mistakes, and that’s because you kept running away. You ran away so often that you even forgot his face.

Tears blur your vision, so you use your forearm to wipe them away. Despite the revelation, the resurgence of painful reminices, you feel awful for running away from Taehyung. You can’t forget the times spent with him, sharing personal stories of yourself and vice versa, and your friendship deepening. You promised him that he can rely on you, but you already broke it. But...how do you keep a promise with the monster who not only took your sister, but also took away your childhood?

You’re so focused on wiping the tears away that you bumped into someone and fell down. You scream in terror, kicking your feet as you try to get up.

“Hey! (Y/N), calm down!”

The person tries to grab your flailing legs, but you only kick harder. “STOP IT! LET GO! HELP!”

“(Y/N), (Y/N), it’s me! It’s me, relax!!” You feel two hands cupping your cheeks so you can look at the person. “It’s me, Suniya.”

You stop panicking. But your mind feels foggy, and for a moment, you’ve forgotten where you’re at.

“We work together. You’re a journalist, and I’m your agent. You’re twenty-six years old and live in the city. You graduated from the University of Redlands, and you’re the daughter of two parents who live miles away from you. You came here with a researcher to study the town called Little Bare. I came here because I was worried since I couldn’t contact you, then Miss Kim led me here.”

Your breathing becomes steady, regaining control of your unstable mind. It all comes back to you, and now that you got the chance to process what’s happened, your body becomes weak. The only thing you want to do now is cry. You hold onto Suniya, burying your face in her arms as you wail like a child.

Suniya is in shock, never seeing you cry this much before. She knew how much the Winter Bear affected you, but not to this extent, and it breaks her heart. She hugs you back, tears streaming down from her eyes as well.

“Suniya...I...lied. I lied to him again. I ran away. I got scared...I-I couldn’t think...then I left him there...An-Annie...I heard her cry. She was crying so much…”

“It’s okay...you’re safe. Don’t cry.” She hushes you.

She rocks you back and forth as you continue to sob. Your sentences are everywhere, but to question you in this state isn’t going to help. For now, what you need is to hide in somebody else’s arms until you’re okay.

———

“I shouldn’t never fucking agreed to this!” Suniya shouts.

In the room that you stayed in, Suniya is arguing with Kim. You’re sitting in the fetal position in the halls, your back against the wall. Even though the doors are closed, you can hear Yesosang’s voice as clear as day.

It’s the next morning, and you couldn’t sleep a wink. You and Suniya stayed in another room from the inn, not letting Kim know that you returned. The moment the sun rose, Suniya went straight to Kim’s room and has been arguing with her since.

“I thought I had to worry about you because (Y/N) can be a handful but...it was her that I should’ve been more concerned about. You're an absolute scum.”

“Please, try to understand from my viewpoint. Miss (Y/N)’s story needs to be heard—”

“‘Heard’? You mean use?! You don’t give a fuck about what she went through. I should’ve known better and not leave her in the hands of a stranger.”

“You didn’t need to word it that way. I was just trying to help her. I feel like, as a scholar in pursuit of knowledge, she has every right to remember every second of her memories.”

“Oh, don’t give me that scholar bullshit!! You’re no different than those Hollywood people exploited this damn town for money, and you’re not even different from us who are trying to live each day trying to make money. (Y/N)’s repressed memory is not your textbook!”

You can’t handle all this shouting anymore. You’re upset with yourself to make Suniya come all the way here, wasting her family time just to find you. Even though she blames Kim, you feel accountable for agreeing to go on this trip. Suniya can blame your mental instability all she wants, you’re still an adult, and you still said yes.

You wonder what Taehyung’s doing right now. Hopefully, he isn’t cold.

“We’re leaving tonight. You can stay stranded here for all I care. When we get back, we’re going to make sure that every publication doesn’t want to work with you,” Suniya stomps out of the room, taking you by the hand and dragging you with her. “Let’s go, (Y/N).”

As you two walk down the halls, she can sense the immense amount of guilt you’re carrying. She knows you’re blaming yourself, so she slows down and holds both of your hands.

“It’s not your fault, so stop worrying.”

You want to stop, but the guilt won’t leave. Once again, it’s suffocating thinking about what you could’ve done to prevent this from happening.

———

Outside, a gust of wind nearly blows Suniya off of her feet. She was only able to keep still because she was holding onto you. “Holy shit, is the weather always this bad??”

“It became like this recently.”

“Ugh…if this continues, then we might not be able to leave. Sorry, (Y/N).”

“It’s fine.”

Just as you two were returning to the inn, Magaret chases after you two. “Hold up just a minute! (Y/N), can I have a word with you?”

“Who are you?”

“It’s okay, Suniya. Margaret’s been taking care of me.”

She hugs you, almost making you break your back. “Oh dear god, I’m glad you’re alright. I heard that you went off into the forest with that young man. He didn’t touch you, did he?”

You shake your head.

“Thank god. Sheriff Tusk is currently looking for him and will make sure that his ass goes to prison.”

“Wait, what?”

“You can never fully trust men. They’re deceitful and only strive for one thing, and that’s—”

“Is there something important you wanted to say to (Y/N)? We’re in a bit of a hurry to leave.” Suniya saw how disturbed you became when she mentioned Taehyung.

Margaret scoffs. “In this weather? Lady, you’re gonna die if you go today.”

“Why?”

“It’s gonna be ‘nother blizzard happenin’ tonight, and it’s crazier than it’s ever been before. You outta stay one more night.���

But Suniya doesn’t have the patience to deal with another person. “Look, I know you guys don’t have that many outsiders, but I know when locals are trying to make tourists cough out as much money as possible. We’ll be taking our leave.”

What Margaret said about Sheriff Tusk going out to look for Taehyung, so it worries you that he’ll get in trouble. But knowing how quickly Suniya wants to leave this place, she won’t want to stay.

“Wait...I think you should listen to her…”

“You too??”

“The weather here can be pretty bad. We should stay one more night.”

“...Will you be fine…?”

You nod. “I’m not a kid.”

But she seems hesitant, but seeing as the weather is getting worse, it might be for the best. Besides, you’ve been here longer than she has, so she has no choice but to abide by your request. “Okay…”

Margaret’s eyes haven’t left you, clearly showing how worried she is for you. However, she doesn’t say anything as she knows you might want to brush it off. “Yea...it might be for the better.”

———

Later that night in the inn, you’re laying in bed while Suniya is taking a shower. And just like what Margaret said, the town is going through yet another blizzard. This time, it’s heavier compared to the first one. You’re still thinking about everything that happened the night before. You don’t know how you were unable to recognize Taehyung since the beginning.

Did you really repress your memories that much that you forgot his face? The cries from the children’s souls are still imprinted in your mind. Perhaps in the back of your head, you had a hutch that it was him, but his purity made you doubt yourself. Maybe you were keen on going back to him to confirm that it isn’t him from twenty years ago that you ignored the red flags.

Despite the tragedy that he caused in your family, you can’t forget the times spent together. Exposed to the reality of the world made you disregard that there are kind people like Taehyung. He’s caring...but you keep going back to when he lured you and Annie to his cave. It’s conflicting, like two sides of him that you know are real, yet they challenge one another. On one side, he’s your antagonist, but on the other side, he’s like a savior.

There’s a knocking at the door, alerting you. You get up, wondering if you should open it, but seeing as the knocking won’t stop, you get out of bed and open it. On the other side is Kim.

“Hi, Miss—” You nearly slam the door in her face, but she put her weight on the door just in time. “P-please, just give me a minute to explain! I just want to apologize for my selfishness!! I should’ve known better than to take advantage of your trauma.”

You take a second to rethink before opening it for her. You glance at the bathroom, hearing the showerhead still going off.

“You have until Suniya finishes showering to tell me.”

“Thank you…uhm...Again, I’m sorry...I was caught up with my own goals that I lost myself for a second. But...there are a few things that I’ve been doing way before I met you…” she shows you a vanilla folder in her arms. “Here’s some information that I’ve gathered from the town’s archives. It was not an easy task to obtain, so please take good care of them.”

 She passes the folder to you. When you open it, it’s filled with records that look so old that it’ll crumble at any second. Some of these papers feel like it’s decades old too.

“What’s this?”

“My research. I hope this is enough for you to forgive me...I think it’ll really help you with figuring out who Taehyung is and what this curse is.”

And just like that, Kim leaves. You close the door and set the folder down on the desk, spreading every individual paper out for you to read. Some of them are extremely old—going as far as the late 1800’s. The papers on top of the stack are about every recorded disappearance in Little Bare, even some that came after Annie’s. In total, there are a little under sixty child disappearances. As you go through each article, from most recent to oldest, you notice that at some point, the Winter Bear lore became big in the news in the 1950s when a wealthy child went missing. There was even an attempt to make a film out of it but was cancelled due to how controversial it was. To some extent, there was a children’s book in the 1940s about the bear as well.

But as you go back in time, there tends to be less coverage in the early 1900s, most likely due to new coverage of the two World Wars being more favored. A majority of its timeline has been skipped over, and now you’re in the 1880s with newspapers with titles like Exclusive!! Small Town Cursed with Black Magic or Real-Life Witch Doctor Lives!! Cave is an Accessway to Hell. The columns come with pictures of supposed real cave drawings, all are shapes resembling animals, some are birds, dogs, fish, and...bears. There are outrageous claims that the one responsible for those drawings used their blood.

However, as you skim through the articles, it explains what the purpose of those drawings are. Each one resembles the strength of each animal, bird = flight, fish = underwater breathing, etc. There are also theories that the etchings give the holder the ability to shapeshift, though it’s limited. In the third and last article, the title says, Breaking News: Immortality Exists...Or Does It?

Once you go through the papers, you make it to the last few papers. It’s been clipped together with a paperclip, and it’s a record of residences who previously lived in Little Bare. As you flip through them, some pages stick out to you. Some names in each year are highlighted with yellow, and it doesn’t take long for you to learn the pattern. Every name that Kim has colored in are Korean immigrants, and, in particular, there’s a large spike in Korean names in the 1910 records. In that exact, there’s only one name that has been highlighted and circled.

The name is Kim Taehyung.

After 1910, the Korean population here decreased significantly, to where there were no more. And the paper at the bottom of the stack is a black-and-white copy of a photograph with all the Korean immigrants that moved into Little Bare in that year. One there’s a pair that stands out to you. It’s a younger version of Taehyung smiling, and standing behind him is a woman, presumably his mother.

That’s when everything clicked for you. And in that moment, you take the picture from the folder, put on your boots and scarf, and take your thick coat before running out through the doors. You can’t wait for this blizzard to die down, and you have a feeling that it won’t if you don’t go now.

But you stop in your tracks, returning to the room, almost forgetting something. You look through the drawers to grab something small before putting it in your pocket before dashing back out.

———

The blizzard is more intense than ever before, even to the point to where you can barely see anything. Even opening your eyes wider already feels like they’ll freeze. You trek onward to the cave, praying that he’s still there. You’re fully aware at how ridiculous and idiotic this is, like you could’ve waited until it calmed down. But deep down, you know it won’t die down until you find him.

Thankfully, you made it to the cave without any problems. You pick up the pace as you enter the cave, shivering almost to death. Even with multiple layers of clothes, you’re freezing to the point where you can’t feel your feet. In front of you is the black hole that belongs to the cave. The cries of the childrens that Taehyung has taken lurks on the other side. You gulp, clenching your fists to stop them from trembling. You look over your shoulder at the blizzard. You can’t turn back now, so you have to push forward.

You turn on the flashlight on your phone and continue walking. The deeper you went, the louder the cries became. The walls start closing in, and on there are also the same animal drawings from the newspapers. The sound of water droplets complements the hollow cries. It’s getting so loud that it’s beginning to unnerve you. You want to cover your ears, but even if you do, the dreadful cries won’t leave.

But you know that the kids are trying to warn you to leave. They don’t want you to make the same mistakes they made. They’re children—pure souls who lost their young lives. They don't have any intentions to play tricks on you, so that’s why you have to keep pushing through because you have unfinished business.

“(Y/N)...” A young girl’s voice calls out from behind.

Even though you haven’t heard that voice in years, you know exactly who it is. Turning your head around, an apparition of Annie forms. There she is—in her blue-and-white striped dress and pink jacket with the brown boots. She hasn’t aged a bit, but she’s crying.

“Don’t go. Go back home where you have a warm house and people who care about you.” Annie whimpers.

Hearing her speak weighs heavily on your chest. You can’t hold back the tears, so you let it out.

She extends her hand out. “If you don’t hurry, then you’ll freeze to death here.”

Your knees almost gave in, nearly making you fall. Even though you know full well that she can’t be alive, a part of you feels relieved to see her again. It may not even be her, just a recreation that Taehyung made. She has to be his recreation because a two-year-old wouldn’t know to say this.

You approach her spirit, crouching down to her level. You wipe your eyes, exhaling while you smile. “Hi Annie, thanks for warning me. You’re just trying to look out for your older sister, aren’t you?”

She continues to cry, nodding her head.

“It’s okay, you can trust me now. Your big sister is now a grown up. I’m just going to talk to our friend.”

“But! That’s not a friend! He’s a monster who’s done bad things. It’s his fault that I died and that Mom and Dad hates you. He’s made you miserable. He’s the problem!” She cries even louder.

You tilt your head, your grin not once leaving. “I know, but sometimes people do things because they’ve been wronged, too. They won’t know that they’re doing something bad until they learn the good in the world. Our friend was just lonely because he left his homeland, then his parents left him, and no one wanted to be his friend.”

Annie finally stops crying.

“So when he finally made a friend, he wanted it to last forever. That’s why he took their souls. It didn’t help when he had more bad luck and became immortal and has supernatural powers. I just know that deep down, he’s a good person who’s been on the wrong path for a very long time. Right...Taehyung?”

You stand up, turning around after the spirit of your sister disappears. The cries from the children dissipate, and the only one left crying is Taehyung. You approach him slowly, and as you get closer, you can hear him repeatedly mumbling, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ under his breath.

“Am I right, Taehyung? It just got out of hand, and your fear took over you.”

“...I hate opening my eyes to this empty cave. Because I know that whenever I went to town, everyone else would have friends or families to return to when I had nobody. And I never asked to be cursed to live forever either! Why couldn’t I have died a long time ago?!”

He continues to wallow in his own misery.

“And it’s worse when I’m only awake during winter. I don’t even remember what spring, summer, or fall looks like...”

A bear who doesn’t sleep during winter isn’t strong, but a lonely animal because he’ll be the only one awake. Taehyung may be able to live for a long time, but in exchange, he has to hibernate for nine months because the curse is too strong to hold.

“I don’t want to be attached to you. I’m afraid that I’ll try to take you away, but I’m also scared that I’ll never see you again. (Y/N), you’re the only person who’s ever showed me kindness after a hundred years...and I’m afraid that I’ll never experience that again. So please...leave me when you still have the chance. You have a life out there.”

“You don’t have to stay here! You can live with me and—”

“You think I haven’t tried leaving? I’ve tried leaving so many times, but each time I try, I feel like I’m on a leash. The further I go, the more suffocating it gets. An invisible rope is around my neck, but I don’t die. You don’t understand...I’m stuck here forever.”

You don’t want to think about the many attempts he’s tried to end his life. You can’t imagine how you’ll turn out if you were stuck in his position. You’ll probably become insane like him, too. Waking up to the same snowy setting with no one to be there for you. After all, the color white can make people go insane if you see it too much.

You tighten your fists. “Then...then I’ll stay.”

“What?!”

“Let the children’s spirits free and I can stay with you.”

But he shakes his head. “No...don’t give me hope. Just go! Don’t waste yourself with me.”

“No, you listen to me. I’m willing to do it.”

“But...why?! I’ve made your life horrible, and I selfishly took your sister away. I’m the cause of all your problems! I don’t deserve anything from you.”

The pressure of the lives he’s taken away is beginning to weigh down on him, and it’s so much that he can’t handle it. It’s a complicated conflict where he took away so many loved ones from their family, including Annie, but the world was so unfair to him before he fell under this cave’s curse. He didn’t kill because he enjoyed it, but because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions and ended up releasing it in a way he never consciously meant to happen. No matter how hard you try to forget what he’s done, it’ll never leave. It’s engraved into your memory regardless of how much you’ve tried to repress it. You can’t forget but…

You scour through your pocket, showing him the watermelon-flavored candy. He’s confused, but in exchange, you beam. “This is my favorite flavor, and it’s yours too, isn’t it?”

You unwrap it, giving the candy to him. When he doesn’t accept it, you nudge it to him, then he hesitantly takes it.

“Eat it and let the bitterness go away.”

He stares at it, unsure of what your intentions are.

“Almost every kid loves candy, and it’s because of how sweet it is. It��s so sugary that it distracts them from their sorrow. But...it’s also special because of how short-lived the candy is. At some point, it’ll melt in your mouth, and then you’ll want another one, and you can’t keep eating it, otherwise your teeth will rot.”

He clenches it in his fist. “...Why are you going so far for me?”

“Because I like you.”

His eyes widen, almost as if he’s never heard of from somebody else. He thought he heard you wrong. Taehyung is so starstruck.

“I know I can never forget what you’ve done to Annie and what happened after...and honestly...I’m still conflicted. But after getting to know you, I realized that you’re a victim like anybody else. You can’t bring back the kids, but what you can do is learn from your mistakes. So...let the kids go and promise to never take another person’s life.”

You kiss him on the forehead for good luck. After pulling yourself back, but while you were caught off-guard, he leans over to give you a peck on the lips. He feels your chapped lips, which you find embarrassing, but doesn’t matter to him—only that his feelings have also been conveyed to you too.

He pulls back, too timid to look at you in the eyes. “I don’t want to disappoint you, so I vow to never take another person’s life, not even yours.”

“What…? T-Tae…”

“Like what you said, I can’t always be looking for ways to be in an infinite paradise. It’ll just leave me miserable, and I don’t want that to happen to you. What we had was special, and I’ll never forget it. So...it’s okay, you can go.”

From behind, you can hear children laughing. Small hands reach over, grabbing you by your jacket and dragging you away from him.

“Wa-wait, Taehyung! What are you doing?!”

He watches as you try to fight the children’s grasp, knowing full well that if they weren’t there to help him, then you wouldn’t leave. You have a feeling that this will be the last time you’ll see him, so you become choked up in your tears.

“No, don’t do this!”

But he doesn’t respond, afraid that if he says something, he’ll break down.

“Taehyung, I promise I’ll be back! I won’t leave you again! When you open your eyes for winter to come again, then I’ll be there to wake you up. And...even if I’m long gone, then I’ll make sure that you’ll never, ever, have to be alone,” You reach your hand out, extending your pinkie. “I promise.”

With one last look in your eyes, he saw hope. Over a hundred years later, he saw light at the end of the cave, that maybe one day, the curse that had been laid upon him will become a blessing. Maybe this time, he can see someone precious again without taking their life. Even if you don’t fulfill your side to the promise, just the facade of hope is enough to make him look forward to next winter.

Within a blink of an eye, he reaches over and wraps his pinky around yours. He’s so thankful that he’s crying uncontrollably.

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

And with one swift move, the children’s spirits pull you out of the cave, separating you from him. Before you close your eyes, you could’ve sworn that you saw Taehyung in his child form, eating the candy that you gave him.

———

You regain consciousness after feeling someone shaking your shoulders. The first person you see is Suniya, bawling like a baby. When you opened your eyes, she froze, not sure about what to do next.

“Sun...Suniya?”

“Oh, thank god!” She hugs you tightly. “I was so scared that we lost you.”

You’re still in the woods. Though, the snow is beginning to melt and the sun is blaring down on your face. You look around to find all the townspeople surrounding you, including Kim.

“Jesus Christ, you gave all of us a fright, girl.” Margaret wipes her tears with her sleeve. “Goin’ out during the middle of a brutal blizzard. Are you insane?”

You look down at your hands, and they’re not trembling anymore. “I guess I am.”

It felt like a dream. In fact, every second you spent with Taehyung felt like a dream because of how fast time flew by. What you experienced in the cave, you don’t know if it actually happened.

You turn around, seeing that the cave is hollow. It’s a lot smaller than what you last remembered. The entrance is like a black hole, but it isn’t empty. But what’s better is that you don’t hear children crying anymore. You look back at the crowd, glancing at Kim who’s crossing her arms. One look and she knew that you overcame your trauma.

Suniya helps you up, putting your arm around her neck. Though your body is fine, your muscles feel weak.

“Come on, let’s go back and get you warmed up.”

“What the hell were you doin’ here, by the way?” Margaret asks.

“There’s just something that I needed to do...and I’m not done with it yet.”

[The End]

———

EPILOGUE

“Alright, next, I’m going to teach you how to make a campfire.”

You are standing in a circle around a bunch of kids. They’re wearing thick jackets with badges on them and have dark green hats with the symbol of a brown bear over a snowflake over them. They’re hugging their arms, shivering to the old.

“Do we have to make one now?”

“It’s too cold to do anything, Miss.”

“Can’t we just learn it back at the cabin?”

You shake your head. “The whole reason to make a campfire is to build it outside. Not only is the fire meant to keep you warm, but it also helps cook food and used as a light source.”

You grab some branches from the ground, wiping the snow off of it.

“You see how wet it is? It won’t make a good fire. It’s going to be difficult, but you need to find dry wood like this.”

You compare and contrast between the two, kicking snow off of the ground until you see dirt. You place the wood, taking out two rocks and creating friction to spark them. And just like that, you’re able to create fire. The kids stand around your campfire, awing at it as the flames rise.

However...the flames go out within seconds. “Oh…”

The children laugh. “What was that?”

“That was terrible!”

“Hold on, just give me one second…” You grab the wood to make a second attempt. “I swear it worked the first time.”

“Miss (Y/N), why are we camping during winter? Doesn’t girl scout camps happen during summer?”

“Yea! All my friends go during summer. My parents kept saying that this camp saves more money...but it’s unfair.”

“Well...let me tell you something. They can teach you all the methods of surviving during the summer, but almost every tip is thrown out the window when it’s snowing. I have a friend who used to be your age and didn’t know how to survive on his own in the winter. His mother abandoned him a long time ago and no one wanted to take care of him. So he was on his own.”

This gathers the attention of all the girls, so they surround you as you continue the story.

“He was starving and cold because he didn’t know the basics of survival, like making a campfire. He didn’t know how to fish nor did he know how to build a tent.”

“I hope she went to jail for abandoning her own child.”

“Why would his mother leave him?? That’s so messed up.”

“Sometimes, it’s not because they want to, but because they can’t. We’ll never fully know why she left him, but I think she did love him.”

“What? I think she hated him.”

“Because before she left him, she told him that he’s a strong boy. Maybe she left him because she knew that he'd survive. Of course, this is by no means a good method of parenting, but she had faith in her own son that he’ll make it through the winter.”

“I don’t think she cared about him,” one of the girl scouts crosses her arms. “Couldn’t he go to the police for help? They’re always there to help him find his home!”

“Yea, but it wasn’t that simple. You see, he was considered as...different, I guess you could say. People many years ago thought completely opposite from us, so no one wanted to help him.”

“Is he still alive?”

You fall silent, and this builds anticipation for your response. They draw closer to you, unable to handle the suspense.

“He’s still alive.”

They sigh in relief.

“Do you girls want to meet him?”

“Wait, can we??”

You nod. “He’s a little shy at first, but he’s super friendly.”

“How does he look like??”

“Hmm...he’s super tall,” you raise your arms up in the air. “And he has broad shoulders. His hair is so curly that it almost looks like cotton candy. He also has a mole under his nose and the most charming smile anybody has ever seen.”

You stare at the sky with dreamy eyes, and that’s when the girls understood the subtle hints. They elbow each other, giggling and covering their mouths.

But you’re clueless. “What’s so funny?”

“Do you have a crush on him, Miss (Y/N)?”

Your cheeks turn red, and they squeal with excitement. You press your knuckles on your lips as you become more flustered.

“Keep it a secret, but he’s my boyfriend.”

They scream, stunned that their leader has someone in her heart. You shush them, worried that their voices would disrupt the town’s peace.

“Di-did you guys do things...like kissing??” One girl whispers.

You nod, and they hide their screams behind their covered mouths. Then, you rub your stomach, feeling a lump. “Pretty soon, we’re gonna be a family.”

The girls have no idea what you meant, but they’re not at the age to learn about that yet.

“He’s the most important person in the entire world to me. He sleeps a lot, so I don’t get to see him that often, so every second I have with him matters until I get too old. Because of that, he’s afraid that one day when he opens his eyes, I won’t be there anymore. So, even if I’m gone, he’ll have enough friends that he won’t ever have to feel alone anymore.”

From behind a dead tree, you can see Taehyung hiding behind it. You snicker, certainly knowing that he heard the entire conversation. He’s probably trying to fight back his tears. Every time you visit him during winter, he would sob and express about how much he doesn’t deserve you. But since he went through decades of suffering, this is the least you can do to ease it.

You raise your head, pointing your direction to him. “Taehyung, would you like to sit with us?”

He peers his head over the tree, holding the bark gently while staring at the ground. He raises his eyes, trying his hardest to hide his smile.

“...Thank you.”

[End]

A/N: Thank you for everyone who read this, especially considering how long it is lol. I wanted to get this out during winter, but it took longer than expected ha ha. I hope you guys are all safe and healthy!! Don’t be afraid to leave any comments :) Have a beautiful day. ^^

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