#the whole being discreet enjoying their time together regardless of work and distance

[ladychlo]

:D

[chaoticminhos]

movie night

pairing: felix x reader (ft. chan)

genre: s m u t

warnings: jealous felix, voyeurism, chans kinda a snake but it’s fine we love him anyway

a/n: for anon <3 not proof read yet!!

~~~

it was just like any other friday night for you and your boyfriend, movie night at your and felix shared house. every friday, the whole gang got together at your house and binged movies until everyone either passed out or went home. there was one thing different about this friday, though, and that was that the night ended with your boyfriend mercilessly pounding into you while his best friend watched.

you were sat on the couch in between felix and chan, eyes focused on the screen ahead of you with one hand linked with your boyfriends and the other with chan’s.

it wasn’t weird to be cuddly with any of the boys, they were your closest friends. it normally didn’t bother felix for you to be close with his friends, either. that is, all of his friends, save chan.

chan had a flirty personality. that’s what you always told yourself, and your boyfriend, when he would bring it up.

“felix, chan isn’t coming onto me, he’s just being friendly.”

“too friendly.”

it was a common argument between you and your boyfriend. he was so sure chan had intentions other than friendly with you, and you didn’t buy it.

chan’s fingers played with your own, keeping his eyes focused on the screen. you were on your 4th movie. most of the boys had already left, only leaving you, felix, chris, minho and jisung. minho and jisung were cuddled together on the ground, and you could tell that both boys were close to passing out.

as the movie played through and a rather suggestive scene began to roll, chan’s grip on your hand tightened and his fingers soft movements with your own stopped, leaving him tightly holding onto your hand.

the scene was obviously having an effect on him, and you couldn’t deny that it was doing something to you as well. you shifted so your legs were pressed tightly together, trying to keep your movements discreet.

you partly succeeded with keeping your movements unnoticed. felix didn’t even glance in your direction at feeling you shift beside him. chris, however, did notice, and it was clear that he understood why you changed your position, too.

you trained your eyes back to the screen, keeping your legs pressed firmly together. you heard a soft chuckle from chan, and when you looked over to him, he was staring at you with a smirk on his face and his eyebrows raised.

your face flushed red and you quickly turned back to the tv. you still didn’t think chan was trying anything with you. it was just a friend teasing another friend, right?

you watched the rest of the movie with the only interruptions being minho and jisungs snores. as the credits rolled, felix stood and excused himself to the bathroom.

that left the only two conscious people in the room as you and chris. your hand still tightly wrapped in his, you turned towards each other.

“that movie was... interesting.” you spoke with a giggle.

chan chuckled in response, turning his body so he was completely facing you. his eyes were locked with yours, not breaking away once, even when your own shifted around the room.

“you seemed to enjoy it, especially the scene where he took her for the first time.”

he leaned forward only stopping when your back hit the bottom of the couch and he was hovering above you.

he continued, “when he wrapped his hand around her throat.”

wrapping his own hand around your neck, he retold the events of the scene, his face only inches from tour own and his body pressed against yours.

you always had found chan attractive, but you had a boyfriend. regardless, you couldn’t help the sound that left your mouth at the feeling of his long fingers wrapped around your neck.

the smirk on his face grew with the sound that left your lips. he wanted to hear more of your pretty sounds. and he did hear more, when he rolled his hips against yours and placed his lips on your neck.

he groaned at the sounds you made because of him, lightly sucking and biting at your neck. as he bit down on a specific spot on your neck, you let out a rather loud whine.

your own volume snapped you back into reality. you couldn’t let chris leave any marks on you, you shouldn’t even let him be intimate enough with you to get the chance to leave marks.

you pressed your hands to chan’s chest, lightly pushing him away from you. he pulled away from your neck and propped himself up on his arms, still above you, but leaving more distance between the two of you.

“chan, i can’t- we can’t be doing this. i love felix.”

“y/n, forget about him, i’m making you feel good, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you are, chan, but you shouldn’t be. felix is-“

you were cut off by your boyfriends loud voice.

“y/n, chan, what the fuck?”

pushing chan off of you and sitting up to face your boyfriend, you frantically tried to defend yourself, give an explanation other than ‘yeah i was just dry humping the guy you’re always worried about but please don’t be mad.’

the noise woke up the boys who were previously asleep on the ground, both getting up with wide eyes and excusing themselves to their own homes in a hurry.

you turned to chan for help only to see him smirking at your boyfriend with a triumphant look in his eyes, like he wanted felix to see him all over you, like he wanted felix to get angry.

within seconds, felix had chan’s shirt collar in his fist and chan’s back pressed into the back of the couch. instead of his smirk falling at his position, it grew.

“you think this is funny, chris? you think you can touch what isn’t yours?”

he turned to you, roughly releasing chan’s shirt collar and hovering over you instead.

“and you, y/n, you think it’s okay to let him touch you, hm?” he brought a hand to your jaw, roughly holding your face and forcing you to look at him, “you think it’s okay to let him touch what’s mine?”

“felix, it’s not-“

“not what it looks like? what, so you weren’t just moaning because of someone other than me?” he jerked tour head to the side, exposing your neck to him, “you didn’t let another guy leave these marks on your neck?”

when you didn’t reply, just staring at him with wide eyes, he let out a dark chuckle and shoved your face away from him, releasing his grip on your jaw.

he turned to chan and pointed at a chair across the room, “sit there.”

chan didn’t move, only raising his eyebrows at your angry boyfriend.

felix glared at the boy, his voice somehow getting lower, “i said sit there.”

chan complied after being told twice, taking a seat in the chair across the room and settling into it like he was in a relaxing situation. damn, he really was not bothered by felix catching him all over you, was he?

felix turned to you, grabbing you by the neck and forcing you into a laying position on the couch beneath him. felix’s hand was much smaller than chans, but it felt just as good wrapped around your throat.

he smashed his lips to yours and kissed you so hard that you were sure your lips would bruise. you groaned into the kiss as best as you could with his hand restricting your breathing. when he shoved his tongue into your mouth, you didn’t even bother fighting for dominance or teasing him; he was angry enough already.

he reached down with his free hand and began to unbuckle your pants, to which you brought your own hand down to stop, wide eyes looking from chan to your boyfriend.

understanding what you meant, felix laughed and swatted your hand away, continuing to work on undoing your pants.

“what, you were okay with him practically fucking you with jisung and minho asleep in the room, right? you should be perfectly fine with me using what’s mine with him here.”

he removed his hand from your neck, finally allowing you to properly breathe, as he pulled off your pants and underwear.

he ran a finger through your folds, “you’re so wet, y/n. is it for me or him, hm? is it from when he touched you? or is it all for me? are you turned on by my anger, baby?”

undoing his belt and removing his clothes, he ordered you to strip of what you had left on. when you unclipped your bra and tossed it to the ground, you heard chan groan from the other end of the room. you looked up and he was palming himself through his jeans. the kinky fuck probably planned this.

with both yours and felix’s clothes discarded on around the living room, felix wasted no time covering his length in your arousal and lining himself up with your entrance.

despite his anger, felix still made sure you were ready, getting your approval before shoving himself into you completely in one motion. you screamed out at the sudden sensation of being filled, earning a low moan from your boyfriend.

he began to move, quickly working up to a fast pace and finding an angle that made you scream out with every deep thrust.

“that’s it, baby, scream for my cock.”

bringing his hand down to work your clit, he wrapped the other hand securely around your throat. you let out a strangled moan at the sudden stimulation, the feeling of his hand and length working to make you feel good mixed with the sensation of being choked being too much for you. you tried to let him know you were going to cum, but his fingers were wrapped too tightly around your neck for you to let out a proper sentence.

with a particularly hard thrust right to your sweet spot, felix had you clenching around him and your nails raking down his back. he hissed at the stinging on his back, continuing harsh to land harsh thrusts to your spot as you came around him. he fucked you through your high and then some, working towards his own. you whined at the overstimulation, knowing you were going to cum again soon.

felix’s pace became sloppy and he moved his hand back from your hip to your sensitive nub again, causing you to cry out, tears running down your face from how much pleasure you were receiving. you came for a second time with your boyfriend, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit as he came deep inside you.

he released his grip on your neck when he heard you trying to speak, releasing a chorus of his name mixed with your moans as you came.

you heard chan let out a hiss and a string of curse words, looking over to see him working his way through his own high. you’d almost forgotten he was there.

felix pulled out of you, taking a moment to catch his breath before standing up to get a towel to clean you up. he came back into the room with a wet towel for you and one for chan, tossing it at his friend so he could clean himself up as well.

he pulled your undies back onto your legs and put his shirt over your shoulders before stepping back into his boxers. you heard chan’s bet buckle, signifying that he, too, was securing his clothes back onto himself.

after making sure you were comfy and taken care of, felix turned to chris.

“are you going to stop trying to fuck my girlfriend now?”

chan smirked, “i don’t know, i had quite the time tonight...”

felix threw a pillow at chan, a mixture of genuine anger and amusement on his face, “get the fuck out of my house, asshole.”

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Ten - How Far We've Come

Victor watched her from afar as she fumbled with the zipper of her dress. He found her adorable, lightly scoffing at herself, her small hands trying to position to a good angle to get the job done, while she carefully watched herself in the mirror.

He mischievously stood in the distance, concealing himself from her, letting her fend for herself a little longer while he observed. This was his guilty pleasure, a small moment that was only his, when she was alone, oblivious to his presence, lost in a secret dialogue with herself. He drank every one of her expressions, how she silently scolded herself when she failed to do what she intended, how she would secretly pat herself in the back when she finally achieved it.

Eventually, feeling he had had his daily fix, he walked up to her and placed his hands on top of hers, still trying to pull the zipper.

“Need help?” He couldn’t help the slight amusement in his voice.

“Ugh. Yes.” She scoffed, turning her back to him so he could help her. “These dresses are so needlessly complicated. I’m always afraid I’ll pull too hard and rip the fabric.”

“That’s why husbands were invented.” He joked. “To help their clumsy wives zip their dresses.”

“Is that so?” She played along. “I thought it was to change tires.”

“No, that’s why road assistance was invented.” He quipped.

“Right, I’ve never seen you change a tire ever.” She turned and placed her hands on his chest, looking pensive. “Hm. I got myself a faulty husband.” She teased.

“And I got myself a wife that can’t reach the top shelf without help.” He smirked. “Life isn’t perfect.”

“How dare you?” She smacked his chest, making him chuckle. “That’s it, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” She went to look for her purse, pretending to be offended.

“Tonight is a big night.” He changed the subject. “Feeling nervous?”

“I think, at this point, feeling nervous is pretty much my normal state.” She laughed at her own exaggeration. “Ok, honestly, how do I look?”

The deep green satin dress looked stunning on her. The lace on the corset hugged her breasts in a perfect and elegant way, and the backless design showed her soft skin, the one he loved to kiss in their most intimate moments. He softly ran his fingers on her back, anticipating the events that would follow the gala.

“Honestly?” He pulled her closer, whispering wet in her ear. “Breathtaking.”

Inside the limousine, on their way to the ceremony, he heard her laugh, looking at her phone.

“Just look at this.” Andrea showed him the screen. He immediately identified Guy, Xavier and Mr. Mills in Guy’s restaurant, toasting with red wine, a caption below the picture that said: Á belle Andrea! Felicitations!

“That was heartwarming.” He quipped. “Remind me to send them something to thank them for the support.”

The beautifully decorated ballroom was brimming with warmth and life, and Victor could hear in every corner people engage in interesting conversations about religion, economy or politics. The greatest minds of Loveland were gathered into that very same place, and anyone that was remotely interested in drinking a little bit of knowledge was bound to have a very bountiful night.

Victor and Andrea were received with honor and enthusiasm by the GESA president and his assistant, Andrea being treated almost like royalty. True to herself, his wife was impervious to all the flattery, as she still couldn’t place herself among the great. Victor knew that was her greatest weapon: because she never felt like she was finally arriving, she would never stop walking. And because of that, no one knew how far she would walk.

As they sat at their table and Andrea, the eternal social butterfly, chatted idly with some guests, Victor let his mind wander to years before. Two years before, to be exact, when he didn’t know she would be his, and she didn’t know she would be brilliant. But on that specific day, he saw something on her that told him she would go far. And how.

It was a Saturday morning, and he was visiting Loveland’s Public Library. The Mayor had invited him under the pretense of showing his last monetary donation had been used, but Victor was no fool. He was perfectly aware that the politician was after another donation. Still, he let himself be led by the man through the many floors of the building, pretending to be unaware of his true intentions. It wasn’t like he had better plans anyway, and he knew how important his donations were, especially to students that couldn’t afford the books that their classes demanded.

“This should interest you since it’s your field.” The Mayor announced as they arrived at the Economic Sciences floor. “We are proud to say that, thanks to your generosity, we have an extensive collection of books and manuals. As you can see by how busy this place is, many students come here to study and research during the weekends.”

Victor took a look around at the place, and just like the Mayor said, all the tables were occupied with laptops and books, the people sitting at them engaged in stimulating conversations. Most of these people weren’t born with a silver spoon on their mouths like he had, and thanks to something that required little effort from him, they could study and work for a better life. Victor couldn’t think of a better use for his money. Enjoying a sudden feeling of accomplishment, Victor was about to leave to visit the next floor, when something caught his eye. At the end of the room, by the corner, was that Portuguese girl that worked for him, the one he had hired just a couple of months ago, Andrea.

His heart gave the alarm, pounding heavily, giving the rest of his body all sorts of instructions. He could feel something inside him flutter, his breath becoming faster, his palms starting to sweat. He had no idea why that woman caused such a reaction in him, the only time he spoke to her was during her interview, and he sure wasn’t going to let himself get all flustered for someone he barely knew. So he took a discreet deep breath, trying to regain control, telling his own body to quit the nonsense.

Despite it all, there was no harm in staying for a little longer and observing her. He was naturally interested in studying people’s behavior, especially the people that worked for him. It was not like he was staying behind to look at her, per se, he just wanted to know what she really was like. He could even say it was a precautionary measure, no more than that. With that thought firmly in mind, because there was obviously no other reason to do what he was about to do, he turned to the Mayor.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to take the time to explore this place a little bit further. Alone. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

Before the Mayor could retort, Victor turned his back on him. Taking a random book from one of the shelves, he sat on a corner where he could see her but was sure she couldn’t see him. It would be enjoyable to just sit and read for a while, enjoy the ambiance, he told himself. No, this had nothing to do with her at all.

However, Victor realized that he had no idea if the book he was holding was actually interesting. He was yet to read a word of it. Instead, his eyes kept stubbornly drifting back to her, curious to see what she was doing.

Her table was full of books, her open laptop, and a notebook ridiculously filled with colorful sticky notes. She looked different than usual, wearing casual jeans and a navy blue sweater, her curly hair in a messy bun that a pencil kept in place. She was laser-focused on her work, apparently taking quotes from one of the books and typing them on her laptop, making the occasional annotation on her notebook. The several empty cups of coffee at her table indicated she had been working since quite early, probably the whole morning.

Victor realized that, much to his surprise, a feeling of pride was growing inside him, and he simply put it aside, like he did with most of his feelings. He had nothing to be proud about, she was merely an employee, no one of relevance in his life. Besides, for all he knew, she was working hard but failing miserably, making all sorts of unforgivable mistakes.

Still, he had to admit, her effort was remarkable. Most people slept in on Saturday mornings or spent their weekend resting or entertaining themselves with ludic activities, and yet she was there, buried in books for who knew how long. Furthermore, Victor knew the previous day had been hard for her, as Ted had told him that they left the company close to midnight, due to a problem one of his clients had. Regardless, she was there. It was ridiculous for Victor to feel proud of her, but completely understandable if he experienced at least a shred of surprise.

She stopped her work, reading the covers of the books she had on her table, and frowning. She suddenly got up from her table and walked to the librarian’s desk. Without a second thought, Victor followed her.

“Excuse me.” He heard her call the librarian. “Do you by any chance have “The Theory of Development”, by Aidan Thorpe?”

Victor knew that book. It was a study published in the ’90s that had caused immense controversy, so further editions had been canceled, remaining only the first printed copies. Victor had purchased it for his personal collection and found it brilliant. It was interesting that Andrea was also using it.

The librarian struck a few keys on her computer and shook her head, Andrea’s face falling, disheartened. Thanking the woman, she turned to leave, absorbed in her thoughts. In fact, so absorbed that she wasn’t minding where she was going and bumping-

On him.

“Oh God, it’s you!” She jumped back, looking slightly frightened. “I mean, good morning, Sir. And I’m sorry.”

It was obvious to Victor that she became deeply uncomfortable with the sight of him. That quickly put him in a bad mood.

“Watch where you’re going.” Victor scolded her, although he didn’t mean to. “Looking for Thorpe’s work? It’s incredibly hard to find.”

“I know.” She sighed. “There was a copy at Calouste Gulbenkian, back at home, I’ll try to see if I can get any copies of it.” She tucked a curl behind her ear, not looking him in the eye.

“Interesting fashion choice.” He mocked, pointing to the pencil in her hair. “Is that how young people use stationery these days?”

“I forgot my hair tie.” She seemed unamused. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work. Enjoy your weekend.”

Victor had no choice but to watch her and she hurriedly walked to her table, gathering all her things and leaving in a rush. She obviously couldn’t stand him. But then again, he knew he wasn’t all that loveable, being a business mogul comes with a price, and for the most part, he was willing to pay it. Yet, he couldn’t shake the sadness to see her leave like that.

Back at his apartment, Victor found himself staring at his bookshelf. Something was brewing inside him, he could feel it, but he was too much of a coward to look at it. He had been hurt before. He needed to tread lightly.

But she needed this. And it was so easy to give it to her. Was he really the kind of person that would disregard someone’s need for the sake of self-preservation? With a decided scoff, he took the book off his shelf and placed it on his coffee table. On the inside of the cover, he wrote a few words, closing it immediately.

He took his phone and dialed the number. She could never know.

“I will give you the donation you need.” He spoke, eyes focused on the book. “However, I have a special request.”

“Is everything ok?” He heard her ask. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“What? Are you done listening to Frank’s dissertations about his trips to Namibia?”

“I find them interesting actually.” She came close to him, whispering in his ear. “But the man does talk a lot .”

They both chuckled privately, as they watched from the corner of their eyes the said guest go on another tirade, gesticulating furiously. He lovingly took his wife’s wrist, the one where she wore her charm bracelet.

“You’re wearing it today.” He twirled the V charm between his fingers, proud to have her show that part of him.

“I wear it every day.” She gave him a confused frown.

“I assumed you wouldn’t today, fearing it wouldn’t go with the dress.”

“It’s part of me.” She touched the bracelet on her wrist like it was her favorite thing in the world. “I could never take it.”

He took his wife’s hand again, kissing the back, the softness of her skin and her scent making his heart swell. He loved how she proudly wore his gift, the testimony of their life together like it was her lucky charm, her source of strength.

She was very fond of symbols and superstitions, and although Victor was more of a logical man, even he had to admit the power objects seemed to have in summoning the best in someone, or their worst.

He could still remember that Sunday afternoon, after taking her out to lunch. He was at her place, baking cookies, while she worked on her study.

“It smells delicious.” She commented from the table, as he took the cookies from the tray to cool.

“It will only take another ten minutes. Are you ready for a break? I’ll boil some water for tea.”

“Yes, please.” She stretched her body, stiff from sitting so long. “I’ll clear the table.”

As the water boiled and the cookies cooled, he helped her clear the table of all books and sticky notes she had laying around, spotting the book he had donated to the library. He held it in his hand with a smile.

“That one belongs to the library.” She explained. “I should return it soon, but the librarian says I can keep it as long as I want, and to be honest, it’s breaking my heart to have to return it. I may buy it from them.”

“Why is it so special?” Victor smiled, hoping his expression wouldn’t give away his secret.

“The previous owner wrote this on the cover, see?” She opened the book, showing him the inside of the cover. “Probably for motivation. And you know what? Every time I feel overwhelmed, I look at that inscription, and I feel stronger. It does work.”

Victor couldn’t have guessed the impact his words on a cover of an old book could have on her life, but he was glad to be a positive influence in her work, even if disguised. The following week, while on a business trip, he texted her.

You no longer need to return the book. It’s yours.

“Why do I feel so nervous? I already know I won.” Andrea commented as they started announcing the awards.

“Is it because of the speech?” He held her hand. “If you forget it, just speak from the heart.”

“And now, ladies and gentleman,” a voice announced, “to present the award for Most Promising Mind in Economics… Professor Chauncey Williamson.”

Andrea froze on her seat. It was the teacher that gave her an incredibly hard time when she was defending her doctorate thesis. The professor climbed the stairs to the stage, taking the microphone.

“Ladies and gentleman, good evening.” He started. “Most of you don’t know this, but Mrs. Lee and I share a piece of history together, when she was still Miss Jones. In fact, I was one of the teachers invited to evaluate her thesis. I must admit that, while back in the day I considered Miss Jones too good to be true , Mrs. Lee has not failed to disappoint. Her ongoing study shows a lot of promise and raises many important questions, which is why it is my greatest honor to give the winner for Most Promising Mind in Economics, Dr. Andrea Lee!”

Andrea turned to her husband, pecking him on the lips, before getting up to deliver her speech.

“Go get them.” Victor whispered, before he saw his wife walk towards the stage.

“I have to admit, Dr. Williamson, I wasn’t such a fan of you back then, but I kind of like you now.” She joked, and everyone in the audience laughed. “First of all, I would like to thank GESA for this honor and its juri, and all of the present here for sharing this moment with me. I am deeply honored. There is a saying, no man is an island. And this is particularly true for this award, because, as you may imagine, I didn’t win it on my own. I’d like to thank my husband, who has been with me since day one, who believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself, and made sure I was supported in every step of the way. I love you handsome, and I’m so grateful for having you in my life.”

Victor found himself close to tears, the pride and emotion being too much to bear with a straight face. He mouthed I love you too to his wife, although he knew words wouldn’t be able to convey the warmth he felt in his heart.

“I’d also like to thank my family and friends, for putting up with my absence and moods when I was too busy, you guys are the best, and I wouldn’t trade you for the world. I also want to thank my team, who worked relentlessly and believed in my project, taking hours and hours of their personal time so we could make the deadline we had defined. And lastly, I want to thank who I like to call my silent supporter.” Andrea’s voice faltered slightly with the emotion. “You see, when I was just starting to write my thesis for my doctorate, and I couldn’t afford expensive books for reference, I had to use the Loveland’s Public Library. There was a book that I needed, The Theory of Development, by Aidan Thorpe, and that the library was kind enough to let me take home temporarily for consultation. Inside the cover of that book, there was a quote that said The best view comes after the hardest climb. I have to say, that quote changed my life. Every time I felt disheartened, or tired, or felt like giving it up completely, I would go to that book and read that quote, and I found myself strong again. I don’t know who you are, and maybe you won’t listen to my speech, but I want to say to the world that your words gave me strength, and you are also a reason why I’m here. Thank you.”

Victor smiled as he applauded her speech, his heart feeling so big that it could barely fit in his chest. He would never tell her that the book was actually from him, and he was the one who wrote those words, although she could easily figure it out by his handwriting. He would keep it secret like his own personal treasure, the knowledge that he had been her supporter since even before she knew, that he loved her even before she loved him. This was for him and him alone. His guilty pleasure.

That day was a memorable day in their lives, and Victor couldn’t help to trace back all the events that led to it. How she started as a not so shy intern at Loveland, but so unaware of her potential. How even when faced with major difficulties, her past being all over the media, her career being on the line, she never gave up. How she bravely stood up to her abuser, and his father, and anyone who was unjust or had hurt someone significant in her life. If he had to describe his wife with a handful of adjectives, two of them would certainly be brave and relentless.

Later that night, he sat in his living room, nursing a glass of brandy and watching the city skyline, like he did many times when he was too overwhelmed by his own thoughts. Feelings like pride and love filled his heart, but there was one he could not shake off: sorrow. He had never seen his wife give up on anything, except for the thing she wanted the most. She had come so far, improved her life in so many ways, healed from the past, but there was one thing that still stung her heart: the fact that she would never become a biological mother.

As his loving husband, Victor decided that it was his duty not to let her give up on her dream, or better, their dream. He had seen her barely recover from their last try, and his heart feared that mentioning the subject again would reopen old wounds, but he couldn’t let her fold like that. There were still options. They still stood a chance.

“The bed is cold without you.” He heard her complain from the door.

“Come here.” He extended his arms to her. “I’ll warm you up.”

She sat on his lap, running her fingers through his hair.

“You’re drinking alone in the dark.” She looked at him with worried eyes. “Is something upsetting you?”

“Just lost in thought, that’s all.” He leaned his head against her chest.

“Anything in particular?” She kept combing his hair with her fingers. Victor closed his eyes, enjoying her care.

“How far we have come. How we were before, how we are now.” He mumbled.

“We did come a long way, didn’t we?” She was reminiscing. “I remember my trip to Loveland. It felt like navigating uncharted waters. I have changed so much since then.”

“Why did we give up? We never give up.” He looked up to her, knowing he didn’t need to specify. The look in her eyes told him she understood.

“I can’t give you a child, Victor.” She answered weakly.

“But we can have one. We can adopt. She may not be our blood or share physical characteristics, but we will love her. She will be ours, be a Lee, all the same.”

Andrea watched him lovingly as he spoke, tears brimming her eyes.

“I don’t want to give up just yet.” This time, it was his turn to ask. “Will you do this with me?”

“Yes.” She smiled as she let a tear fall. “I will.”

[unravelthesecret]

The Night Before

So I’ve finally come to this point in life, a moment in time that I thought may never come. The night before the wedding. And not just any wedding – my wedding. 

You have no idea how weird it sounds still. 

Compared to most of my friends, I’m considered late to the marriage train in this ripe age of 29. I’m way past the Asian spinster age of 25. I’ve seen a lot of people, my age and younger, starting their families early on and many have pushed out one, two babies who are now old enough to go to kindy. Does it matter to me? I would say not at all, because I’m a huge advocate of Finding The Right Person Regardless of Your Age, just as much as I strongly recommend co-habitation before marriage (a concept apparently so taboo to the eyes of most Indonesians) to anyone. 

Anyway, this is a very funny time to be alive, thanks to the pandemic that turns everyone’s lives upside down. At first I thought the idea of a pandemic seems like an introvert’s dream come true: people dying like flies, social distancing aka having people not breathe the same air as you, travel restrictions, lockdowns, working from home, being confined at home and not allowed to go anywhere or to do anything outside. It was thrilling and I didn’t want it to end. I had such a fun time at home with my soon-to-be husband that I was crying for a whole week when he had to go back to work. Obviously he had a great time too because spending two months at home together only solidified his decision to propose to me a few months later. I didn’t think my prayers to have an endless pandemic would have its repercussions, as I certainly didn’t think that I would be getting married in this weird time. I didn’t know I would grow to hate it so much as it interfered with my life plans. 

The way I have always imagined (and wanted) my wedding to be is to have a small yet elegant affair with my family and close friends somewhere remote, me wearing a long white dress with a train and a veil walking down the aisle to meet my handsome groom, and with a nice seated dinner reception to follow with a pretty table setting and heaps of alcohol and dancing to songs from the 60s. We were this close to booking this gorgeous clifftop villa in Uluwatu where we had our first date—which would’ve been the perfect venue—until we later found out that the resort is not even in operation and the company might be going bust, on top of the international travel restrictions that have no certain end. 

I also thought when the day finally comes, around this time, I would be surrounded with my loved ones and do this full range of bridal activities. I’ve seen my friends go through it: hen’s night, bridal shower, finalising things with their wedding organiser and vendors, getting spoiled rotten just for being a bride-to-be by an army of people who would help with even the tiniest details. I thought in this exact moment I’d have a relaxing spa day before spending quality time with my parents who would give me some valuable premarital advice. 

The reality, however, is starkly different: I haven’t seen my family and friends back home for a year now. I went shopping for things alone and did my share of tasks that were divided only between me and my fiancé. I did my research and compiled paperwork to register for our marriage, booked a photographer, hair stylist and lunch venue. I had a facial so late because I didn’t know any better hence I’m still recovering from the post-facial breakouts. I’m not currently on good terms with my parents and spent my entire morning arguing with them after finally getting the final straw of their actions (long story there). I left the family group chat today. I had a leftover drumstick and a slice of cheese for dinner and ran 5km. I scrubbed the bathroom floor before retreating into a separate bedroom to keep the tradition alive and quietly enjoy my final moment of being unmarried. It’s really as unglamorous as it can be. 

This is far from what I have envisioned, yet at the same time, I have the embodiment of everything I have always wished for as a kid. 

Because at the end of the day, it all comes down to you and your partner. Not what the wedding party will be like, not your shit parents, not your dress and your shoes, but the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with, as cliched as it may sound. In my case, I can’t stop thinking about how lucky and blessed I am to have my partner. I’m going to skip the flowery details about why I love him and want to be with him, because no matter how much I put in in great detail, I don’t think anyone would fully understand the intensity of my feelings for him and how great of a person he is. But I am here, lying in my bed and still furiously wondering how did I get so lucky and what the hell did I do in the past that I deserve to be with someone like him. I honestly can’t think of anyone I would do this with but this exact person. I have never felt more confident of a decision than doing this with him. I feel happy, excited, elated, but also content. I feel ready. There is surprisingly no amount of anxiety or nervousness, just pure bliss. If anything scares me, it’s the thought of losing him to death one day. 

At a glance, it’s not the perfect wedding. Nothing worthy to be featured in stylemepretty or whatever bridal blogs, nothing to brag about, nothing that would ignite jealousy or inspiration. I don’t see how anyone would look at this and be like, “that’s my dream wedding!” or “that’s exactly what I want to experience!”. We are still in isolation, we don’t have anyone here to be with us except for a few kind relatives, and tomorrow we will seal the deal in a place that looks more like a hospital than a romantic place to profess your undying love to someone. Then again, the narrative between us has always been “let’s just elope” and it’s been that way since we first met. Although, of course, we’re still going to do it the proper way once international traveling is allowed again and the world is a safe place for us to celebrate with our loved ones. 

For now, this is more than anything I could ever ask for and if I get to spend every day for the rest of my life with him the way we always do, I would die a happy girl.

My soon-to-be husband is out in our living room right now ironing his shirt for tomorrow as he goes on about what happened today at work through the door. He just slid my bouquet for tomorrow into my bedroom—white and blush roses and white hydrangeas, as discreet as possible to avoid breaking the tradition. I’m here counting my blessings as I count the hours before the new day comes. 

The time now is 10.56 PM. Less than a few hours to go.