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bluebird722 · 7 months

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Giving a Chance

Summary: He thought that his feelings would go away after the three years. He worries that she will not give him that chance. An imagining of the final episode.

Pairing: Jeankasa, implied Aruani

Rating: K

AN: So the inspiration for this story was born right after I began scrolling through AOT posts on Instagram (since I started following Jean's, Mikasa's, and Pieck's English VAs' accounts) and saw how downright nasty people can be to each other in the fandom! Anyone who even mentions Jeankasa faces an enormous wave of protests from Eremika shippers, people attack each other for suggesting that she deserves to move on and be happy even without him, and commentors fight over the whole "virginity/flowers" symbolism. It got to a point where (aside from not wanting to look at even AOT fanart anymore) I thought if Yams intended for Jeankasa to be endgame, why not illustrate how it could have evolved? How could a character continue to love the one who saved her life and still develop a loving relationship that would give her joy? I hope you enjoy reading of it as I had dreaming of it and putting pencil to paper.

Jean eagerly combed back his hair and tried to conceal his excitement that, after three long years and the most trying years of his life, he was getting closer to the dream life about which he had been dreaming for years. Any time that something was not going as intended or he missed home, he thought about what he still needed to do: get his dream apartment, find the right woman, save up for the best liquors, have a baby or two, and contemplate that he was good enough of a person to deserve those fortunes.

For whom am I trying to look good for? he thought to himself, reflecting on Pieck’s question. Not just the ladies who will read history books one day–but good looks and good vibes go hand in hand, he thought with a smirk. All they needed to do was meet with the Queen and other diplomats, and then a visit to the grave, and then…whatever else he needed to do before his dream life–much better than if he had joined the Military Police as intended years ago–could finally begin.

Then they arrived back to Paradis, wrapped up their meeting a little before twilight, and made the trip to the grave, where Mikasa was waiting for them at the bottom of the hill, and Jean felt like the atmosphere had crashed around him.

As Mikasa embraced Armin, who practically lifted her off her feet in their hug, he noticed how much she had changed, from her hair length to the style of her clothes now that she had given up the way of the warrior. He had rarely seen her in anything both so casual, so feminine, and so civilian, so the combination of pink and blue gave her a new aura of beauty. She even grew out her hair, the long hair that he remembered adoring when he first met her.

She’s still so beautiful, Jean thought to himself. However, that was not the moment to think about that. Now was the time to mourn their late friend, who died for freedom.

Jean managed to concentrate on the burden and peace that Eren had left for his beloved friends to save the destroyed world and make it better, but somehow it was easier imagined than experienced. It’s all right, Jean, he thought. Soon Paradis will be at peace. Maybe one day we can imprison or reprogram the Yeagerists, and my family won’t have to live under the Queen’s protection anymore, and then I can focus on having the perfect house and family…

Then he looked up at Mikasa, who was comforting a weeping Armin, and felt a sudden heavy pressure in his chest. All those feelings that he remembered having since they first met and stifled every time he saw how she had feelings for Eren, and feelings that he continued to suppress until they didn’t give him a dull ache in his heart, came back.

Jean gazed at her out of the corner of his eye as they waited to lay down flowers. She had already set down four–the number meaning that nothing would separate the two of them. Even after everything that Eren had put her through, risked for their loved ones, and inflicted upon the outside world, she still felt the same about him.

For three years, he thought that he had gotten over Mikasa even at the mention of her name. Then just the sound of her voice and the change in appearance unlocked what he thought was long gone.

***

The ambassadors were to stay in an undisclosed house until the Queen was certain of their outside safety. Connie, Armin, Reiner, and Jean shared one half–two men in each room–while Pieck and Annie had their own, with a kitchen between for heating tea and a bathroom for each group. After visiting Eren’s grave and a quiet dinner with the Queen, the ambassadors went to their undisclosed house while Mikasa returned to her own that the Queen set up for her and in which she was safe after returning home from Marley. Mikasa, however, was not ready to return yet. She visited with the ambassadors, caught up with them over tea, and informed them of how much worse the Yeagerists had grown. Some Paradi natives were willingly moving out of the island in hopes of finding a better life in a foreign land. This unsettled Reiner and Pieck, who planned to move back to Marley, while Annie was uncertain about her future.

“As long as we’re together,” said Connie, “do you think…we could survive this?”

Only Armin was fully convinced, but Mikasa expressed hope that it was possible.

***

Groaning, Jean kicked away the blanket and sighed into his pillow. Sleep could not come to him for two hours. It was black outside, and his body ached with fatigue.

Careful not to wake up Reiner in the other bed, Jean carefully opened the door and walked barefoot into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and looked at himself in the mirror, with his preferred stubble length and the hair that remained polished and well groomed even after a long day.

Then he unbuttoned his shirt, turned on the faucet, splashed cold water over his face twice, and cried harder than he ever did in his life.

For goodness sake, Mikasa, he bitterly thought, which made hot tears run faster down his cheeks, why can’t I get over you?! It’s been three years, and I thought things would change! If you wouldn’t change, I could… It’s been three years, and I still think about you that way! I still dream about falling in love with you, imaging you as my life partner, the mother of my children—things that I never imagined until we were getting ready to stop Eren!

Jean weakly looked at himself in the mirror. I could be everything you want, everything you need, but I’m not him! I could give you everything I have and more, but you would still love him more than anything else in the world. If you could have your way, you would bring him back to life and have a life with him–a life…a married life that I would not want with anyone I didn’t feel as I did with you! He hung his head and sobbed. Why can’t I let you go if you don’t want me?

I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone, he thought. You deserve love and peace, to know that there are people out there who love you and only want the best for you! Even if you gave me a chance, I would never tell you to forget about him! I would still take you to visit his grave, I would never make you get rid of that scarf, and if you ever needed to miss him, I could spend hours awake at night with you for as long as you needed it…

Jean took deep, haggard breaths and let the tears fall with the droplets dripping from his face and hair. I could be everything you want and need, but I’m not him.

***

The conferences with the Queen and the island’s earliest cohort of allies continued on for about two more weeks, leaving the ambassadors exhausted every night. It was more tiring than if they fought the Rumbling all over again, but their temporary house and tightened security gave them some assurance that things could change for the better. Dinners in which Mikasa joined them sometimes helped, though it only bothered Jean even more.

Fortunately, despite the Yeagerists taking over the island, the inhabitants continued to live as before everything changed. With mainland influence came new fashions, new technologies, new music, and new food. Two days before Reiner and Pieck were to board a steamboat back to their birth country, the alliance decided to go to a street festival and see to what extent the cuisine and fashion were growing on the island.

Jean tried not to look at Mikasa, who stayed at Armin’s side the whole time, as they walked around the festival. Some vendors were selling different flavors and types of bread, the people at an ice-cream stand were handing sample cups to about five children to taste before choosing what to buy, and, to Connie’s absolute delight, a vendor was selling various kinds of fried chicken, which he had become obsessed with while staying in Marley.

“What do you think, Mikasa?” he eagerly asked the black-haired woman who blinked at the different options like she couldn’t comprehend how people could make so many ways to make chicken taste different. Fortunately, Annie said that they would have one of everything just to let Mikasa try one of everything, from mild to spicy to sweet.

Jean sat on the opposite side of Mikasa when she and the alliance sat down with all kinds of chicken. Some of it looked gross, and some smelled so appetizing. Watching her eat from the chicken bone was kind of amusing, in Jean’s opinion, as were the faces she made. Some were too sweet, some seasonings could go together, and even some of the spicier ones were rather good. Annie, naturally, selected the ones sweetened with brown sugar and caramel flakes; Connie wolfed down his meal–one of everything, like Mikasa’s–and went back for more.

“So tell me more about the foods you ate in Marley,” said Mikasa to everyone, “and what you got to eat that I didn’t have when I…when we first went there.”

Everyone had a story to tell. Armin recalled trying grilled and fried and sauteed duck, and attempting to make his own. Connie talked about something called a sloppy joe that was messy but downright delicious. Jean mentioned escargots and how people flavored the snails. Annie, Reiner, and Pieck said that one day, hopefully soon, Mikasa could go to Marley and not be limited to just vanilla ice cream; Marley sold, and continued to make, drinkable ice cream called milkshakes offered in many delicious flavors like chocolate, peanut butter, fudge, and caramel.

Mikasa nodded along and was full after eating all the chicken, but she was so glad to try each flavor. “I will definitely taste each one,” she said quietly. “I just can’t believe that we missed out on so much.”

Jean shrugged but grinned. “That’s why, when I meet the right woman and have children, I’m taking them to events like this so they can grow up experiencing everything that I would have really liked when I was a boy.”

Most of the alliance smiled, but then Jean felt the blood drain from his face. Why did he have to mention a family, children, at that moment? Sure, he knew that adults had an expectation on children to grow up and become parents, and Jean knew his parents felt the same about him, but to actually realize that a family life was something he would like even though he never really imagined one for himself until the Rumbling was starting, when he used an imaginary future as an escape from reality, struck him almost painfully.

Well, he thought to himself as they started talking about something else, just remember–it’s not worth having a family if you are not happily partnered with someone who wants to be your partner on the biggest project of your life. Then he looked at Mikasa and the scar that he remembered from his dream. It just wouldn’t be her, since she wouldn’t want to have had a family with anyone else.

***

After Reiner and Pieck’s steamboat faded from view, Mikasa accompanied the remaining alliance to the shared house, with the Queen’s security team, to spend the night and rest so they could wake up early the next morning to reunite Connie and his mother. Annie, who had decided to start over with her life in Paradis but hoped to visit her father soon, ordered cookies and tiny cakes to munch along with their afternoon tea and sat by Armin’s side the entire afternoon. Jean, who had cooked for everyone omelets like his mother had taught him, knew that Armin was jittery about their seating position but still could not wash away that horrible feeling of jealousy.

It was a nice, sunny afternoon that day, so Jean decided to finish his work outside and conclude the day’s sunlight with his sketchbook and charcoal. Drawing was like reuniting with a friend long separated since childhood. Jean appreciated how much bigger the city appeared now that the walls were gone. He no longer felt like cattle trapped in a pen when he thought about what he had experienced.

“Jean?”

The voice gave his heart a prickling sensation. He cocked his head at the eyes that haunted his most recent dreams. He chastised himself for thinking of how beautiful she was when he knew that she could never find him as attractive. “Yes?” he hesitantly asked.

“Are you done with your tea?” she asked with her finger pointing to the cup and saucer at his side, to which he shook his head and said that he would be in later for a warmer brew. He wanted her to leave him alone so he could forget about her and fall head over heels for someone who would love him over any other man in the world.

Then again…Eren tried to push her away. He insulted her, said nasty things to her that were devastating to someone he considered a sister…but she still held on.

I’m not him, Jean thought to himself. He looked up at Mikasa peering over the balcony at life below them. He inched closer for sketching inspiration. Two children who looked to be brother and sister were carrying armfuls of books that he suspected came from the new library. An elderly couple walking by ate a doughnut split in half. Two women, one hugely pregnant, were lounging outside a cafe and laughing.

Jean sighed to himself, wistfully hoping that he didn’t have to make too many more painful sacrifices for strangers below to live these deserved lives, and noticed that Mikasa stared under the balcony and then turned away with an almost pained expression. You don’t deserve her, he thought to himself. In a fresh state of anger, he tore in half the page on which he was sketching.

Mikasa sharply moved her head in his direction. “Jean?” she asked. “What was that?”

Jean looked down at the paper half crumbled in his fist and closed his eyes. Lie, he told himself. “Just…I just hope I’m heading in the right direction,” he said. He felt her looking at him and knew that she wasn’t going to look away. Sighing, he went on: “When I was a boy, years ago… I used to sketch what I wanted in adulthood, like how I wanted my home to look in the Military Police, what the city would look like from my window…even…” He swallowed. “...even how…how I imagined what my future wife would look like.”

Mikasa didn’t move or change her expression.

Keep making things up, he thought. Don’t let her suspect anything. He looked down at the sketchbook with a heavy sigh. “But then…things are taken away from you.” He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Like, the Battle of Trost, and seeing what happened to people we knew and trained with…and how I didn’t want to join the MP anymore…”

Still, Mikasa didn’t move or make a face. Jean looked away from her. “And thinking…with all that’s going on here in this island… would I be able to find someone, a woman…even though…” He stumbled and swallowed. “Even though this position as ambassador is supposed to be for the greater good of this island…what woman would want to risk her life to be with me if being an ambassador meant that Connie’s and my families had to rely on the Queen for protection?”

Mikasa knelt down at a reasonable distance from him. “Don’t you think that the right woman would want to take that risk?” she asked in her usual stoic voice. “If she loves you so much…then it would be a worthwhile relationship.”

Jean twisted his mouth. “But now…it would be hard to find her, because of the Yeagerists.” When Mikasa blinked, he explained: “Like, you don’t know who believes in them and who secretly opposes them, but you’re at a point where you can’t trust anyone for fear or retaliation.” Jean stared at the charcoal under his fingernails. “And let’s say I meet and fall for someone who used to side with the Yeagerists. I…I don’t know if I would be able to look at her the same, knowing that about her.

“Like…you know how Rico is a Yeagerist? And Hitch?”

Mikasa nodded with her mouth in a straight line.

“Let’s say they stop being Yeagerists and decided to work with us.” Jean sighed. “Like…knowing what I know now, I–I could never see myself really being even friends with them at this point in my life. It’s like when a friend lies, and it can ruin your friendship for so long, if it’s not already destroyed.”

“I understand,” said Mikasa.

Jean opened, then closed his mouth, and finally gave in. “Do you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “It is already difficult for me now, especially because of my affiliation with Eren. They know how close we were, so I still get Yeagerists asking me to join them, and they always say that he did it for me, for everyone on this island.” She shook her head. “No matter how much I miss him…I could never associate myself with a group that would proudly kill innocent lives and children. What he wanted was beyond my limits, and as much as I did not want to take his life…”

Jean felt guilty for bringing up painful feelings and angry with himself for reiterating that her love for Eren was strong enough to overlook where he hurt her indirectly, such as a desire to kill even children. He remembered questioning why in Liberio he couldn’t kill that boy who turned out to be Falco. Was it because he himself was unwilling to murder a child? It didn’t matter anymore. He set down his sketchbook, picked up his cup and saucer, and walked inside, where he washed the cup and saucer through grinding teeth. I’m not him, he thought. I could be everything you ever wanted or needed in a partner, but you would see only him and fantasize about him every time we–we…

Jean tried not to think subtle thoughts–of bedsheets, of panting, hands grasping bare backs, two bodies bringing the other to pleasure, morning kisses and nuzzles, and arms around waists, of two bodies trying to spend as much time together as possible. He closed his eyes and pushed his forehead against the cabinet.

For goodness sake, why can’t I get over you?! We’ve been through so much together, good and bad, that I thought these feelings would go away! You would not even want to imagine me as anything more, let alone even dream of a married life with me! You could marry as many men as you’d like and still insist that you be buried with that scarf and beside Eren at the tree, because no man’s love could ever fill that hole that he left you!

“Jean?”

He cocked his head without pulling away from the cabinet. She had come back inside and held his sketchbook and charcoal in one hand. “You left this outside. It’s supposed to rain later today.”

His sigh was not in relief. “Thank you.” He listened to her set down the sketchbook and turned back to the saucer under the soapy water. Why can’t I let go of these thoughts…

“Excuse me?”

Jean slightly jumped. It was Mikasa’s voice. “What?” he asked.

“You said something under your breath,” she pointed out. “Something about thoughts…”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just…lost my faith that things could get better.” He resumed washing the cup and saucer, but she didn’t move away.

For someone who didn’t like to talk about her feelings, she was making it awfully hard to deny his emotional turmoil.

“That’s odd to say, coming from an ambassador who is working towards peace,” she said in her usual monotone.

Jean remembered when he said that he could not imagine being friends with Rico or Hitch should they leave the Yeagerists. He knew that confessing his feelings to Mikasa would destroy whatever relationship they had, and that she could never think of him as a friend again. Frustrated, he dropped the porcelain in his hands and hung his head. “It’s been three years,” he croaked, “and…I still can’t rid of these feelings I have. I thought that my time in Marley, and being an ambassador–they would go away. But then I came home after these three years…”

He gripped the edges of the sink. “I thought they would go away like my ambition to join the Military Police,” he spat. “But these feelings…why can’t I force them to go away?”

“Feelings,” she repeated.

Jean felt set up and swallowed nausea bubbling in his throat. He looked at her over his shoulder. She was somehow even more beautiful than in the cadets, despite the trauma and pain they endured from fighting the right and wrong enemies. “Mikasa,” he said with burning eyes, “I didn’t save your life, I didn’t wrap that scarf around you, I didn’t let you live with me after your entire life changed in one day…but…”

He clenched his teeth after his rushed speech. “I could be and give you everything you wanted and everything you needed, but I’m not him! I could love you with every fiber of my being, but it wouldn’t erase the pain that he left you.” When the tears came, he brushed them away. “I just want you to be happy–like Armin does, like Connie does, like everyone else, I want you to be happy.” He took a shaky breath. “I just don’t want you to be unhappy and mourn over what had been, or a dream of what could have been. I told you to kill your best friend, your soulmate, and that will haunt me every day for the rest of my life.”

He turned away his face and rinsed off the cup and saucer to put on the drying rack, but before he could turn around, a hand touched his arm. Her expression didn’t change. “I thought we could be allies again, friends…” He bit his upper lip and watched the water go down the drain. “I should never have brought this up.”

Mikasa took a shaky breath and moved her hand up his arm to his shoulder, and Jean had no other choice but to meet her eyes. “Do you see yourself…giving yourself that chance?” she whispered. “If I let you…would you?”

The nausea was coming up his throat again, and Jean made himself swallow, though it was like gulping down scalding water. “If you let me?” he repeated. He shook his head. “Even if you gave me that chance… I would never make you forget him. I would never tell you to throw away that scarf. I would spend hours awake with you if you missed him so much that you couldn’t sleep at night. I would take you to his grave as often as you wanted to go. I would never make you do anything that you didn’t want to do, or become someone you were not. I would vow to you above myself, in good and bad.”

Jean’s heart was thumping so fast that he worried that he would have a heart attack. He put his wet hands on her waist without thinking and hitched his breath. “I never pursued women in Marley, and I didn’t know why, not even other Eldian women.”

Mikasa’s eyes were of uncertainty, and Jean felt even more guilty and ashamed of himself for making her feel like she had to give in to his dreams that he harbored for years, and that he could promise her a lifetime of happiness even if he wasn’t him. He dropped his hands from her waist, but then her hands–slender and warm–cupped the sides of his jaw and lowered his head so she could kiss the middle of his forehead.

***

Jean struggled to swallow the mouthful of soup, and not just because it was boiling hot–it was spicy, like the peppers that Marleyans warned made people cry. He inhaled and moved his blistering tongue around his mouth. “Good heavens, that was hurtful,” he panted.

Mikasa twisted her mouth. “I know,” she said, “but you know that the doctor said that this will clear out your system, kill the virus in you.”

Jean turned his head away and sneezed into his sleeve. “Ugh…felt like I sneezed out a chili pepper,” he groaned.

“You may as well have,” said Mikasa. “Your nose is bleeding.”

Jean, groaning louder, sat up and impatiently pulled the shirt over his head despite his aching muscles. “Sorry to keep adding to the laundry load,” he heaved as he fell back onto his pillow.

“Do not apologize,” said Mikasa. “I’ll let the soup cool down and take this outside, all right?”

“That sounds good,” Jean whispered.

At that moment, the door opened, and a pair of tiny footsteps walked into the room. “Marco?” said Mikasa. “What is it?”

The five-year-old’s face was on the verge of crying. “Mama…my throat hurts…” He threw back his head and sneezed into the crease of his elbow, trailing colored snot.

Mikasa immediately stood up and lifted her son onto her hip. “I’ll take you into the bathroom, and you can have a nice warm bath. It’s good for fighting the flu.”

Marco whined and rubbed his forehead against her collarbone.

Mikasa had just stepped out of the bedroom when she heard heaving and lurching in the bedroom across from hers. Without knocking, she opened the door and saw her little girl sitting on the floor with her face in the wastebin pulled between her pale, shaking legs. Poor thing was too weak to walk to the bathroom. “Sasha? Sweetheart?”

The three-year-old weakly lifted her head and started crying. “Mama… make it stop… It’s like sloppy joes…”

Mikasa swiftly helped Sasha onto her other hip and carried her children into the bathroom. She positioned Sasha’s head over the toilet, drew warm water, helped Marco out of his pajamas, and lowered him into the tub. The boy nearly yelped but then closed his eyes. “I don’t feel better yet,” he whined.

“You will,” his mother promised. “It will take time.” She glanced over the tub and saw that Sasha was on the floor, pressing her forehead against the tiles. “Sasha!”

Sasha protested when her mother tried lifting her. “No, Mama, my head… it feels nice…”

“If you keep laying like that, Sasha, you will only get sicker.” Mikasa removed Sasha’s nightgown and placed her in the tub beside her brother. At their mother’s instruction, the children held their breaths, pinched their noses, and dunked their heads under the surface. Once they came back up, Mikasa gathered their germy pajamas and told them to relax and not try to drown each other while she went outside. She would come back very soon, once she hung the new load to dry.

After five minutes, Mikasa finished hanging the soaking clothes and bedsheets, had unclipped the dry linens, and carried the basket back inside. She set everything onto the kitchen table to fold later and hurried back up to the bathroom. She opened the door and saw that the children were not in the tub.

Before panic struck, she instantly saw tiny droplets of water trailing into her and Jean’s bedroom. Mikasa followed the trail and peeked inside.

Marco cuddled to his father, his head on Jean’s ribcage, while Sasha was curled to Jean’s chest. Both children were wearing fresh sleepwear, and they still had towels wrapped around their heads. The three of them, aside from the occasional cough, were napping quite peacefully. Mikasa smiled to herself and left the room to give her sick family peace.

She went into Sasha’s room to strip off the soaked bedding, but the sheets were already pulled off and in a pile at the foot of the bed. On Sasha’s pillow was a sheet of paper with Jean’s recognizable handwriting: I got this for you. You go take a nap. You deserve it.

***

When Mikasa woke up from her nap, it was already dark. She didn’t hear coughing, so the children were probably still sleeping. She could probably take down the hanging laundry from outside and set up the beds for when the children woke up.

Mikasa went downstairs with a candle, but before she went outside, she peeked into the kitchen and saw that not only was the laundry that she brought in earlier folded and stacked on the table, but also folded were the children’s sheets and pajamas that they wore before their bath. Her mouth twitched in affection, and she went into the kitchen to pick up everything.

Inside, however, she saw Jean, wearing only slippers and a towel with droplets of water on his bare back and arms, at the stove, tending to the spicy soup that she fed him earlier. He turned his head when he heard her approach him and smiled. “Did you have a nice nap?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “You, um…”

Jean smirked and ladled the soup into a small bowl. “Do you want one?” he asked her. “I suspect that you forgot to eat before your nap.”

He was always like that, worrying that Mikasa starved herself. She shrugged and said why not. She accepted the steaming bowl and waited for him to sit across from her before she ate. It was both spicy and hot enough to fully awaken her.

After the usual questions that Jean was all right, that he enjoyed his bath, how well were the children sleeping, and if anyone vomited or had trouble holding down food, Mikasa beckoned to the basket and folded cloths. “Why did you fold them for me? I could have done it.”

Jean shook his head. “I know, but you deserve rest. You may the only one of us who will remain in perfect health while everyone around you gets sick…but you’re my wife, my dearest love.” He set down his spoon and put his hand over hers. “Remember–we’re in this together, caring for the biggest, most important projects of our lives.”

Mikasa cocked her head and smirked. “I know–”

“But,” he cut her off before she could continue, “that doesn’t mean that I’m going to leave you to everything.” With those words, his thumb gently stroked the back of her hand. “Remember what I said all those years ago? That I would put you above myself in good and bad times?”

Mikasa didn’t say anything, but she nodded. Jean continued: “I wasn’t saying that so you would give me a chance. I said those words because I meant them, just as much as I do now.” He pulled her hand to himself and kissed her knuckles. “I love you too much.”

Mikasa could not count how many times she heard him say those words, but they always gave her a light feeling in her chest that lifted her spirits. He knew that he could never erase away her old love, nor did he attempt to, but the joy he gave her because of the love he gave and the love that he had for their children made Mikasa glad that she gave him that chance. It was unlike how she imagined her future for years, but sometimes she appreciated how her life in reality was even better than her dream life.

#attack on titan #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman #jeankasa #armin arlert #annie leonhart #aruani #fanfiction #pieck finger #reiner braun #connie springer #jean kirschtein #jeanmika #jean x mikasa #mikasa x jean

19 notes · View notes

we-are-inevitable · 1 year

Note

hollywood au + flowershop/tattoo artist au ? - asper

oh my fuck. oh my fuck

ty for the ask!! @loving-jack-kelly

***

“Charlie!”

A distant thud, and then: “What the fuck are you yelling for? It’s eight in the morning, oh my God.”

Jack only feels a little bit sorry for him. He should probably feel worse; today is Charlie’s only day off this week, having picked up an extra day at the floral shop he works at, but this— it’s important, truly. “Just— Just hurry up and get in here, man, this is— I— Holy fuck.”

“Oh, yeah, of course, make the disabled guy walk to you instead of come to him. Perfect logic there,” Charlie calls out, his voice getting closer and closer with each word, soon emerging from the small hallway in their shared apartment. “What are you freakin’ out over this time?” He says as he rests his cane against the arm of the couch, plopping down and swinging his bad leg across Jack’s lap.

Instead of replying, Jack just keeps staring down at his phone. Staring at the new notifications. Staring at something that has to be a dream. Right? Because, if this is real— if these notifications are actually there, if Charlie sees them too— then this is going to be fucking insane. This is going to completely change his career.

His hands shake, just barely, as he passes Charlie the phone. “Look. Those— Those ain’t fake. Right? Is that a- a parody account or somethin’?”

Charlie stares at the screen for a few moments, takes it in, and says: “Holy… fuck.”

Instagram: davidjacobs started following you.

You have one unread message from davidjacobs.

“I haven’t even looked at the message yet,” Jack says after a moment, eyes wide. “He, like— that’s him? Like, actually—?”

“His account has the blue check mark and everything,” Charlie says in a rushed voice, and Jack watches him scroll through the Instagram feed after clicking on the account. “This— Look, he just posted photos yesterday from a shoot with Prada. Fucking Prada, Jack, that’s— that’s huge! And this one, he’s on Vanity Fair, and—“

“Give me that,” Jack says, reaching over and ripping his phone out of Charlie’s hands. “Did you look at the—?”

“No, no, I didn’t,” Charlie cuts in, leaning closer to look over Jack’s shoulder. “Open it! Come on, don’t be chicken shit.”

“Will you shut the fuck up and let me think?”

“Will you shut the fuck up and let me see the DM?”

Jack groans, then clicks on the messages tab. There it is, right there: David Jacobs, requesting to DM him. Jack can’t exactly believe it. David Jacobs, the man who won an Oscar just over a week ago, has messaged him. David Jacobs, the hottest man alive, pop culture’s current golden boy, Jack’s biggest celebrity crush, has messaged him.

He takes a deep breath and opens the DM.

davidjacobs: Hi, Jack! I’m looking to get a tattoo soon, and a buddy of mine sent me your page. Your work is incredible, and your style is exactly what I am looking for. I’d love to book you for a session if you have anything available. I’ll be in Manhattan for a week starting on the 27th before heading back to LA; do you have any availability? If not, I’d love for you to shoot me a message when your bookings open up. Thanks. DJ xx

“Oh my God,” Charlie blurts out, putting a hand on Jac’s shoulder. “Oh my fucking God, David Jacobs wants you to tattoo him! Holy— Do you know what this means?!”

“I— I have to open shop on a Tuesday,” Jack says, almost in a dreamlike state. “I’m fully booked for the next, like, month, but I— I can open shop on a Tuesday, and have him come in, and we can- I don’t know, it would be worth it? He’d tip really fuckin’ well, and—“

“He’s willing to wait for you,” Charlie interrupts. “Holy shit. You’re tattooing an Oscar winner.”

“I’m tattooing an Oscar winner,” Jack repeats, nodding his head.

It slowly starts to sink in. David Jacobs, an Oscar winner, a twenty-three year old with 58.9 million Instagram followers, who’s face is on every ad in the country, Hollywood’s newest heartthrob, wants a tattoo from Jack Kelly. Jack Kelly, whose shop isn’t even that well known. He has about five thousand followers on his personal page, and even less on his shop’s page. He only employs two other artists- a guy named Finch and another named Spot- because he can’t afford a larger space for the shop, and he’s been trying so hard to grow their followings and promote his art, his dream, and now…

Jack takes one look at Charlie, and says, “I think I’m going to throw up.”

And an hour later, David Jacobs’ name is on his books.

#i didnt rlly know how to fit the flowershop thing HAH so charlie is a florist #charlie and jack are besties and roommates #davey is jack’s cause of gay panic #and i’m sure jack will cause davey’s gay panic as well #actually. maybe i want to finish writing this. hm.#this was so fun #jack kelly #davey jacobs #david jacobs #crutchie #crutchie morris #newsies #livesies #ask a jac !#newsies musical #javid #javey #jac writes #tattoo hollywood au

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emma-cantmakeuphermind · 1 year

Text

Just A Project | V

Nathan Prescott x Reader

Masterlist

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Warnings: swearing, pretty chill

Words: 655

I dramatically fell onto my bed after I got changed into some comfier clothes. I let out a huge sigh ready for sleep. I sit up and pick up my phone to check the time. 6:12. I gently toss my phone down and lie back down. I close my eyes, trying to fall asleep, but then my mind wanders, thinking about everything that happened today. With Nathan. And then I remember that we're meeting tomorrow at lunch and a new burst of excitement fills my chest. I give a huff trying to clear my mind. I feel myself drifting off into a dream state, when all of a sudden-

*knock knock knock*

I shoot up, startled, like one of those dreams where you’re falling. I let out a groan of frustration into my pillow. I begrudgingly get up and shuffle to the door, quickly composing myself for whoever is on the other side. I open the door and I’m faced with Max Caulfield. A small smile appears on my face, Max is a good friend. “Oh, hey Max.” I greet her. She smiles and says, “Hey Y/N, I was just wondering if you had a copy of the reading material Mrs. Hoida gave us yesterday? I guess I left mine in the classroom.” I think about it for a moment and tell Max to wait for a second, I walk over to my desk and sift through some of my school work. I find what Max is talking about and I bring it to her. “Thanks, Y/N/N. You’re a lifesaver! I’ll bring it back tomorrow!” I smile just glad I could help. “Yeah, drop by whenever.

We say our goodbyes and throw myself back onto my bed. Just as I’m about to close my eyes again I feel my phone buzz with a notification. I grab my phone, frustrated, and read the notification. ‘Notification from Instagram: nthn.prsct started following you’ I blink for a moment going to Nathan’s page. He has a few posts, mostly his work, the occasional Vortex Club flyer. My eyes flicker up to the top of his page. ‘Following: 5’ My eyebrows draw in confusion tapping the following count to see who the five people are. Kristine Prescott, I’m guessing that his sister, Victoria Chase, 2 professional looking photography accounts, and me.

I go back to his page and hit the follow back button. I put my phone down and think about the fact that I’m 1 of the 5 people he's following. I know it's stupid, it's social media, it doesn't matter that much, but I can't help the fluttering feeling that swirls in my stomach at the thought. I finally close my eyes in peace and fall fast asleep.

—————————————————————

Buzz…

I grumble awake at the buzzing. I unwillingly grab my phone to check the time, 8:52. I sigh and then I see the 3 notifications from Nathan. My breath hitches for a moment tapping on them. Our texts open and I see the new messages.

N: “what r u doin nrd” 8:26

N: “u better not have fallen asleep on me” 8:38

N: “ansr me or i kik ur ass” 8:50

I smile a bit at the messages texting him back.

“chill, haha, im awake” 8:54

N: “good, cuz 2 b honest, i dont rlly wanna kik ur ass” 8:55

“aww, why? you like me too much?” 8:55

N: “hell no, im jus 2 lazy” 8:55

“the way you type infuriates me” 8:56

N: “so ive been told but idc” 8:56

N: “deal wit it nerd” 8:56

“no <3” 8:57

N: “whatever dummy. ill see u tmr” 8:57

“goodnight nathan.” 8:58

I shut off my phone, place it on my nightstand and roll over. I close my eyes with a smile on my face, hoping tomorrow comes soon.

#life is strange #life is strange x reader #lis #life is strange imagine #nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #nathan prescott imagine

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

Text

Pink Scarf - PART 15 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Mentions of Blood/Miscarriage/Medical trauma. ANGST. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: The ANGST is real, y'all, and I'm not letting you off the hook after Part 14, sorry! This one was a beast to get out of my brain and the block was real for so many reasons, but we made it! It's here! Just so y'all know, this part is very much a bridge to all the crazy stuff that is to come. Reader is going through it and taking all of us with her. And I promise that more smut is coming (if you are only here for that, you horny animals! LOL). Please make sure you read the trigger warnings for this part because there are some sensitive topics that carry over from Part 14!

Thank you for being so patient while I got this out. Unexpected life crap/emotions/writer's block killed me on this one, and I SO appreciate you hanging in there with me! I rewrote the beginning of this part no less than four times, and FINALLY it clicked so here we are! Hooray! Thanks for helping me get through this!

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there!)

No!

The scream catches in your throat as you wake with a start, clutching your belly in a panic, your heart pounding against your ribcage so hard you feel like it is attempting to flee your chest. It takes a moment to figure out where you are. The night is warm and the sky is vast, and you are so far up you feel like you’re still dreaming.

“Baby, are you okay?” Elvis sits up straight in his lounge chair and turns to you. You can see, or better sense, the concern in his eyes, even in the darkness. This sends a shiver of recognition down your spine as your dream (or is it a memory?) flashes back to you in fragments. His eyes are older now, but the look remains the same, feels the same.

“I..I..I…” you stutter, shaking your head, unable to be coherent. No, you are not okay. Looking down, you half expect to see blood pooling between your legs, but thankfully there is none. You feel stuck in the haze between reality and dreams, or reality and what you are afraid might actually be the past.

You feel like screaming, but the impulse sticks in your throat, strangling you.

There was a reason, you think, that you never remembered that horrible night from nearly a decade ago. That you’d only been able to piece together snippets of what really happened from vague accounts of the people you’d been with that night. Elvis, in particular, had been purposefully scarce on details.

And you had been fine with that, truly not wanting to relive your trauma in any way, shape, or form. You’d even been grateful when the doctor told you it was normal for your mind to protect you from your near-death experience, that you might never remember the details of that night, and you determined the memory loss a blessing.

When you’d woken in the sterile hospital, drugged and dazed, the doctor told you’d had an ectopic pregnancy, that the baby—no, the “fertilized egg,” he’d said—had gotten stuck in your fallopian tube instead of your uterus. Unfortunately, your fallopian tube ruptured as the baby grew, and you had massive hemorrhaging, nearly dying in that skating rink. They were able to do surgery and stop the bleeding, but the baby was gone, and you were told it never would have come to term.

It was the worst thing that had ever happened to you. The grief and heartache, the disappointment, the feeling like an utter failure that your body had betrayed you in such a way. No, you were fine not remembering the details. You’d wanted to forget all about it. It didn’t matter to you that the specifics weren’t there, that not everyone’s stories lined up or made complete sense. You just wanted to push it all away.

But now…this dream felt so incredibly real, at least the parts that you remembered. As dreams do, it begins to fade, leaving only a few missing puzzle pieces that start to slot into place. Desperately, you try to wipe it all away again, but it’s too late. You are trying to convince yourself it had to be a dream, that the flashes you are remembering (or more so feeling), couldn’t have possibly happened that way. Except many of the parts you do remember are true and really happened: Elvis’ coming home, how you’d been so inexplicably enamored with him, and how he'd been so concerned he’d done something to hurt you—all of that was real.

But the night of the Rollerdome is where things get choppy. Those parts of the dream are still but snippets and feelings, overwhelming ones at that, and you have no memories to compare them to. Could it be that you lost the baby and almost died in Elvis’ arms after he’d come to your rescue when…when…something else happened? You can’t grasp why he’d needed to come to your rescue or what led up to being in his arms on the floor—it all slips through your fingers like water through a sieve.

God, but the pain you are remembering right now…it is all so much worse than you’d imagined.

It’s like you can sense it happening all over again rather than simply remembering, your belly cramping and lightheadedness threatening your vision. The frantic panic of fearing the worst pours through your veins now almost as it did then. I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t breathe.

Then there was Elvis, pulling you into his lap; you can feel the terror he tried so unsuccessfully to hide, how obvious it was in the shaking stutter of his voice as he was doused in your blood. Then, it fades again, leaving you with the distinct feeling that something important (other than losing the baby) happened on the floor of that roller rink, but it disappears into the ether before you can lock on to it.

“…Oh, God, don’t—”

All of it is too much, all at once.

You are barely conscious of the tears pouring down your cheeks, and you awkwardly stagger up from the lounge chair you’d fallen asleep on while traveling to the moon and the stars. Just you and me and the moon and the stars…You feel dizzy from getting up too fast, from the physical memory of it all and you sway, but your body overrides it with the need to flee, as if you can outrun the past.

“Hey, hey, hey! Honey, what’s happenin’? What’s wrong?” Elvis asks, confused, leaping up, grabbing your shoulders.

You tear yourself from his grasp, staggering for the door that will lead you off the roof and hopefully out of this hell your mind has sought to drag you into. Nothing makes sense. You feel trapped in a daze of psychic and physical pain, none of which is helpful or wanted. All the peace from your moment with the moon and the stars has evaporated in an instant. You reach the door and yank it open.

“Y/n, stop! Wait just a damn minute!” he says firmly, pulling you back to him, his cold rings digging into your forearm like chains.

“Elvis, let me go! You have to let me go!” you shout, trying to break free, but his hold on you is fierce. “Oh, god, I can’t do this,” you gasp, barely able to look at him.

You know you are being unfair to him in your reaction, but you feel betrayed. Betrayed by your body, betrayed by your mind, and betrayed by him, all at once. All logic is lost.

“Can’t do what, honey? I don’t understand what you’re goin’ on about,” Elvis asks in confusion, and you can tell by the roughness in his tone that he is frustrated but is trying to be patient with you. You don’t blame him. You must seem out of your mind, having a breakdown every other minute you are with him.

A deep part of you feels absolutely mortified at the entire situation. You’d had no idea that it was Elvis who’d found you and that something so horribly personal and tragic, your worst failure, was laid out before him so vulnerably. And to think he never mentioned it again makes you both grateful and angry. How could an experience like that be brushed under the rug, like nothing ever happened?

Suddenly all the beautiful bouquets of flowers he sent from afar in those weeks after it happened start to make a bit more sense, as does the distance that started to grow between you two. You had originally blamed it solely on him having to leave right away for Florida (he hadn’t even been there when I’d woken up in the hospital), then it was all the recording he’d needed to get done, and then just like that, he was out in Hollywood filming again. And when he was home after that, you remembered, he did not seek you out to spend any one-on-one time together. Now you wonder if he’d been purposefully avoiding you, and that makes you feel both offended and embarrassed.

You close your eyes, willing yourself to breathe somehow while still feeling like the world is closing in on you. The way your heart beats so quickly drives you to escape, but Elvis’ grip is like a vise, anchoring you to the spot. Everything hurts—a long-buried grief radiating through you like a tidal wave that has been held back far too long. Its icy flood consumes you, tightening your chest, and the healed scar on your belly feels like it’s being ripped open.

Finally, you say with shaking breaths, “I had a terrible nightmare. Or…or a memory, I’m not quite sure which…It felt—feels—so real, like it’s happening all over again.”

“What? What’s happening all over again?” Elvis asks with concern in his azure eyes.

“The baby. The night I lost the baby…god, there was so much blood. It was awful,” you choke out. “Were you really there? Was it you who found me, who held onto me?” you ask frantically, looking up at him for answers, for confirmation.

If you weren’t so consumed by the overpowering feelings rolling over you, you might catch the fleeting panic that flashes across his face before that unreadable mask he’s so carefully crafted over the years takes its place.

“What do you remember?” he asks evenly, calmly.

“Well, I…it’s all jumbled, flashes really. Being at the rink. Then suddenly blinding, horrible pain,” you grimace, arms wrapping around your abdomen, “and then I’m in your arms, bleeding everywhere, and everything gets distant and cold and numb and terrifying. And then it all fades away,” you whisper, looking at him for any sign of the truth of it.

You almost think you see relief in his eyes (why?), but it’s only for a second and then is gone. “That’s what you remember?”

You nod.

He continues, “Yeah, it was like that. I found you, baby. I held you until help got there. It was…awful,” he shudders, those almond eyes of his clouding, the memory obviously affecting him in some way.

“I…almost died,” you breathe. Of course, you logically already knew this to be true, but that was before you remembered how it felt.

“Yes, you did,” Elvis replies solemnly, his eyes churning with emotion, bringing his thumb to your cheek to wipe away the tears you have forgotten are falling.

“It hurts. Here. Now. I don’t know why,” you whisper. Though the pain has ebbed some, it still is intense, overwhelming. Perhaps it is because something about it still feels unfinished and hidden from you, like you are still missing some integral piece. You look at him as though he can give you the relief you so desperately seek, and you can’t help but feel that he is keeping something from you based on the look in his eyes.

“I don’t know either, but you’re safe now,” Elvis says, pulling you into him. He thinks he is good at shielding his emotions from you, and maybe he used to be, but now, after everything that has happened this past week, you can sense the turmoil beneath the softness of his pretty features. It sets you on edge. Enough secrets have been kept from you at this point in your life to recognize the signs, even if only intuitively.

Standing there on the roof, he rocks you gently, and the burning pain in your abdomen begins to subside, but is quickly replaced by unease, a rock of it forming in the pit of your stomach. Something is amiss and you can’t put your finger on it, but it has something to do with that terrible night. And with Elvis.

You watch him carefully as he leads you to the stairs, gingerly, like you might shatter into a million pieces. While you indeed felt that way only moments ago, worry and curiosity wind their way through your mind as you grasp at pieces of quickly-fading memories, searching for something, anything, that supports this intuitive feeling in your gut. You do not find it.

However, as you come back into his darkened suite, you are reminded of the fact that you should not be here, that your husband must be wondering where you got off to. It is nearly dawn, and you aren’t in your room.

And, oh dear lord, all the yelling and the noise that you and Elvis made earlier must have been overheard. Suddenly you are nauseous.

“Elvis,” you say, clasping his forearm in a panic.

“What, baby?” he looks at you, confused, concerned.

“We made a lot of noise earlier…”

A slow, wide grin spreads over his face, but that almost predatory darkness from before lingers in his eyes. “Oh, honey, I sent everyone away after that little stunt of yours in the bathroom with Jack,” he laughs, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He still isn’t happy about that.

Relief washes over you at the fact that your escapades remained private, although, you don’t know exactly who “everyone” is because his Mafia members were never too far from their master.

The unease is back, snaking through your mind. “I have to get back,” you say, “Jack must be wondering where I am.”

“He’s likely in the casino, and you, my dear, went back to Sandy’s room and fell asleep there.” The lie falls off his tongue so easily, and while you are grateful for the excuse, this ability of his gives you pause as you find the remnants of your clothes strewn about the room.

Everything feels off. It’s as though your dream-memory has exposed something, but you cannot put your finger on what, only that something about Elvis is itching at you.

Something important.

Your mind and your insides are still reeling from everything this night has entailed and uncovered. You shakily dress and try to clean yourself up before having to face the world outside of Elvis’ private suite. Between the wildly intense sex and the jarring memories your sleep unlocked, you are exhausted and wonder how you can possibly process any of this and still present “things as usual” to the rest of the world.

Finally ready to head out the door, Elvis stops you. “Wait,” he says, spinning you back to him and pulling you close. His luscious lips brush yours so sweetly, with such yearning, as if he hasn’t had you in nearly every way already tonight. You melt into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palms, the warmth of him solid and comforting. You forget all your doubts and questions for the moment, unable to focus on anything but the pillowy softness of his gentle kisses and the way his strong hands cup your jaw and pull you to him. The man has you fully under his spell, and right now, as his tongue laps at yours, you do not care about anything else.

When he pulls back, you whine at the loss of him, and being him, he senses your need, and gives you a cheeky smirk.

“Later, darlin’, I promise,” he says, brushing your cheek. “I want you backstage again tonight, okay?” It’s less of a question and more a gentle command.

You nod, getting lost in those endless blues of his. Then you shake yourself off and head out the door, shutting it quietly behind you in your best effort to sneak out, your mind beginning to whirl again the moment you are out of his presence.

Lost in a fog of thoughts, your focus is on the ground, so when you collide with another body in the hallway, you nearly jump out of your skin, flying backwards and catching yourself before you tumble to the ground.

“Well, shit,” a familiar voice intones slowly and with surprise as you look up.

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Red.

Your eyes go wide as saucers as your brain tries to scramble up an excuse of why you’d be coming out of Elvis’ suite at this hour looking as you do, and you quickly realize that there is no other plausible explanation. Your mouth opens then closes aimlessly. And the smirk on Red’s face makes it quite clear that he understands the situation fully.

Your heart thunders in your ribcage as you stand frozen like a dear in headlights. This is very, very bad. Jerry is one thing—you have no doubts of his loyalty to Elvis and keeping his secrets. But Red, he is quite a different situation. He is loyal to Elvis, to be sure, but for a price. And he is friends with Jack and has been since the beginning. You had never taken to Red—something about him always irked you, but it was never truly an issue before this moment.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n,” Red tsks at you, a nasty gleam in his eye, “Now what kind’a trouble you been gettin’ up to?” It’s obvious he knows exactly what kind.

You finally find your voice. “Red,” you say in what you hope is a warning but considerate tone, “I’m sure we can both just forget this ever happened. We wouldn’t want to upset anyone.” There’s no need to say their names, you both know who you mean. But your voice is too shaky and even you can’t take yourself seriously.

“Hmm, maybe,” Red ponders infuriatingly. You want to wipe that smug look right off his face.

You both stand there staring for a minute before you finally straighten yourself. You desperately want to turn and go back to Elvis to plead with him to drop Red off somewhere in the middle of the desert, but you know E needs his rest and this conversation can’t happen now. So instead, you square your shoulders, dread pooling in your stomach.

“Excuse me, I have to be going,” you say a little haughtily.

Red just laughs, “I bet you do, sweetheart.”

The endearment is anything but, coming out snide instead. A cold shiver runs down your spine. Finally, you break the tension and push past him, trying to keep your gait steady and unhurried, when all you want to do is to sprint to the door. But you make it without doing so, holding your breath the whole way. Once in the hall, you pound the elevator button multiple times as if that will make a difference in how fast it arrives. Then you feel like you can breathe again, once tucked safely and blissfully alone inside the car, heading down.

You don’t trust Red. Not one bit.

Panic rises up from your stomach, an acidic, bitter bile. This is exactly what you’ve been afraid of. You can feel the rickety foundation of your lies begin to sway under your feet. Not only are you feeling unmoored because of whatever your dream-memory unlocked about Elvis that you can’t pinpoint, but this hits you where it hurts. You reap what you sow, and you have been sowing quite a bit.

All the doubt that Elvis washed away with his gentle kisses mere minutes ago comes back to hit you full force. You must end this, you’ve got to, and you know, oh god, you know it will break your heart, but you cannot live anymore with this fear that is eating you from the inside out.

You were never meant to be this person. You are not special, certainly not special enough to warrant true love from Elvis Presley. You are just a housewife from Tennessee whose husband is a liar and a cheat. You were bored and now you’re in over your head.

Get out. Run, as far away and as fast as you can! your mind screams at you. God, you can’t breathe. For the second time today, you feel as though the air has been stolen from your lungs and like the ground is crumbling underneath your feet.

You are not strong enough for this. You were not made for lying and cheating and sneaking around. The weight of it all feels untenable as you knock on Sandy’s door.

When it opens, she doesn’t even say a word. One look at you and she’s yanking you inside.

“Red knows,” you eek out before she has a chance to say anything.

“Shit,” she curses and brings you to sit down on the bed. Then she steals away, and you hear water running.

You don’t realize you are shaking until she hands you the glass of water and it nearly spills all over your dress. You gulp it down, suddenly parched.

“What the hell happened last night?” she finally asks, after you’ve downed the glass of water and manage to take in some slow breaths. “You disappeared with Jack,” she says with a wrinkle of her nose, “and then Elvis looked like he was gonna lose his damn mind and kicked everyone out, but you were nowhere to be found. Then, Jerry called and told me that if anyone asked, you were with me all night.”

Setting the empty glass on the side table, you put your head in your hands. “Oh, Sandy, I feel like every decision I am making is insane. I don’t even recognize myself.”

Sandy just looks at you with expectation in her eyes, waiting for you to explain yourself.

“Elvis and I had quite an…argument about me being with Jack. And then we had crazy, hot sex, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before,” you sigh and Sandy grins like an idiot. “Then he took me up on the roof to look at the moon, and I fell asleep and had this horrible—well, it was a nightmare, but I think it was actually a memory I repressed. Oh, it was awful.”

Sandy looks at you quizzically. “A repressed memory? What do you mean?”

“Well, you know I can’t have kids…but way back in ’60, I had an ectopic pregnancy that resulted in me miscarrying and almost bleeding to death on the floor of the Rollerdome,” you ramble out, the water you just drank making you feel sick to your stomach.

“Oh my god, hon, that’s terrible,” she says pulling you in for a hug.

“Obviously, there are reasons I don’t talk about it, but also, I didn’t remember any of it. The doc said my brain did it to protect me from the trauma. Until this morning, I didn’t have any idea of what really happened. But now…I had these flashes, these glimpses, of the horrible pain. It was like living it all over again. Like I could feel it happening, San,” you say, clutching your stomach. “And what I didn’t realize was that Elvis was there for all of it. He was holding me and watching me die. There was blood everywhere.”

“Jesus,” Sandy breathes.

“And he never told me that he was there! How could we go through something like that together and him not say a damn word? And I swear something else happened, something he’s not telling me. I just feel like he’s hiding something about it, something I still can quite put my finger on,” you add rapidly.

“Well, honey, maybe it was traumatic for him, too. And I’m sure he didn’t want to make you relive all that,” Sandy says reasonably, patting your knee.

“That makes logical sense, San, I know it does, but it’s not just that, I’m telling you…I’ve been having these dreams, these memories, come up since being with him, things I am just now remembering. I don’t know,” you shake your head, frustrated. “It’s like a puzzle that is missing pieces and I just can’t quite put it all together.”

“How can I help, hon?” Sandy asks, her eyes comforting and kind.

“You’re doing it, babe, by just listening,” you say, squeezing her hand. “So, when I woke up from the dream, E seemed closed off about what I was telling him. I mean, he confirmed he was there, and that he’d held me, but I could just tell he wasn’t letting me in on everything. I feel like I’m noticing just how well and how easily he seems to bend the truth to suit his needs, and now I’m doing it, too,” you say, ashamed.

“And how does Red fit into all this?” she asks, eyes narrowed.

“Oh, god, yeah. I literally ran into him coming out of Elvis’ room. You should have seen the smug look on his face, San. I am so fucking screwed,” you sigh, flinging yourself back on the bed.

“Just tell Elvis! He won’t let Red get away with anything,” Sandy points out.

“I won’t see him until tonight, and by then, everyone might already know!” You look at Sandy frantically, pleadingly. “I feel crazy, and I hate all these stupid emotions! Jesus, who even am I anymore? Am I this woman who lies and cheats and hides things, not just from everyone, but from herself, too?”

Sandy looks at you, pausing as she seems to gather her thoughts. “Have you thought that maybe, just maybe, you are finally breaking free of everything that’s been holding you back? That you are just scared of all of this because it’s new and different and a risk? Before this last week, when was the last time you even took a risk, y/n? When was the last time you actually allowed yourself to really feel anything? Hon, you’ve spent so much time pushing down everything that you are and could be because of Jack and what you think you have to be for him. Maybe all this is just you becoming…you. Making decisions for yourself, ones that make you happy,” Sandy says with the love only she could give you.

You choke back a sob, “But who I am is an awful person, Sandy. I can’t seem to do anything right. I’m a liar and a cheat, which is everything I hate about Jack. I’m stuck in this dysfunctional marriage that I’m dependent on, and I was the reason we couldn’t build the big family we both wanted. I’m in love with someone I have no business being in love with, a man who is so utterly beyond my reach, who could never love me the way I need him to. I…God, I can’t even trust my memories!” Your utter heartbreak at everything aches through your chest, a painful reminder of everything you lack. Shaking with tears, you curl into a ball.

“Oh, hon,” Sandy says gently. She grabs your shoulders and hauls you up. “Look at me.”

You force yourself to meet her gaze, tears leaking from your eyes.

“You have to stop beating yourself up, baby. You’re not perfect, none of us are, but you are certainly not an awful person, not one little bit. You are full of love and kindness and talent, and you’ve put yourself last for so damn long that putting yourself first feels wrong to you,” she says so matter-of-factly that you have no choice but to listen.

“But I’ve made such a mess of things,” you whimper.

“Yeah, well, Jack pushed you to it, hon. And Elvis, well, he’s Elvis, and resisting that man takes a fortitude of will that not many women possess. What I’m saying is, this is not all on you.”

But you still feel like a powder keg about to explode, all your anguish and self-doubt clawing its way out of you, ripping you to shreds along the way.

“No, no, no. I have to…I have to end this,” you shake your head, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore. It feels like hell.”

Sandy purses her lips and gives you a look. “Did you even listen to a word I just said, hon? Let me make it clearer for you: You love Elvis. You don’t love Jack, not anymore. Leave the fucker and go be with the man you love, guilt free! Jack’s a big boy, he’ll survive.”

She makes it sound so easy, but it is anything but, at least to you, and you’re the one living it. “I can’t, Sandy, I can’t just do that! I’m dependent on Jack, who is dependent on Elvis. Without either of them, I have nothing. No job, no money, nothing. So tell me what happens when E gets tired of me, huh? Then I will literally be out on the street, Sandy!” you yell.

“God, you are just determined to be miserable, aren’t you? So determined that you are blind to the obvious!” Sandy shakes her head in frustration, then takes a deep, calming breath before lowering her voice to continue, “I can’t make you feel that you are enough—only you can do that, hon. But you are. You are enough for me, and certainly enough for Elvis.”

“You don’t know that, Sandy! Besides, Elvis is keeping shit from me, too! And I haven’t been enough for Jack for a long time!” you holler.

“Fuck Jack, y/n! Fuck him! He’s not worthy of you, not the other way around. You have to start to see that, hon!” she yells back, her cheeks reddening.

“None of that changes the situation! Red knows, and you and I both know he’s gonna make trouble, and it’s gonna all blow back on me. I’m trapped. I’m trapped in all of it, my marriage, this affair, the lies, this fucking insane world of Elvis’! I can’t…Fuck this shit,” you say, standing up, every nerve in your body flying on a horrible roller coaster than you can’t seem to get off of.

The only solution you can see is to remove yourself from the equation.

“I’m gonna say goodbye to Elvis, to Vegas, to all of it. I’m leaving on the first plane out of here tonight,” you say with finality, standing up. It makes you feel like you finally have some semblance of control over your life.

“Y/n. I don’t think this is the solution you think it is, hon—” Sandy starts.

“Look, I appreciate everything you are trying to do here, but I’m the one living this, not you, and it feels like hell right now. I need out. I’m going home,” you say harshly, swiping the tears off your face. It’s like you are pulling a steel door over all the turmoil you’ve been feeling, shutting out the pain so you can do what you should have done days ago.

You don’t want to relive the trauma of your miscarriage or remember all these fleeting and confusing moments with Elvis anymore. You don’t want to think about what Elvis is hiding from you, because you just know it’s something important and you can’t take another man you love lying to you. You don’t want to see Jack. You don’t want to completely upend everything you’ve known for the last fourteen years. You don’t want to be in love with a man who could never truly love you back the way you need him to. Because they never do.

And your heart aches in every way—for the baby you never met, for the man you used to love, and for the man you love now—it all radiates through you like poison, threatening to cripple you. You can’t stay like this. Anything to escape these horrible feelings, this seemingly unending wave of fear and uncertainty.

Sandy looks at you resigned and disapprovingly, shaking her head. “Fine. You do what you gotta do. But running away ain’t gonna solve anything.”

The hell it won’t.

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suvidrache · 1 year

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Forever & Always?

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 697 / Read it on AO3 / Wattpad | Event List

Kabal had never really dreamed of marriage. He loved you, but it was just something that had slipped his mind. He wanted to get married at some point if the time ever came.

He had met you during his time as a cop. He had been heavily scarred after being burned by Kintaro, dragged into Outworld, given supernatural powers, killed off, and brought back from the dead.

He's been through a lot. Kano wasted no time brainwashing Kabal into thinking that he had worked with him before or he had saved his life. Whatever the excuse was, Kabal had become a criminal working with and for Kano. However, he still remembered you.

You were his. You stuck with him through it all. You loved him despite his scars. Despite how he wasn't the same man before any of the events had happened. He had changed, and you continued to love and support him.

Kabal knew that he wanted you in his life, for however long it may last again.

He wanted to marry you and possibly have a kid or two, but that wasn't really important. It was more important for him to marry you.

Although, one could say you were already married considering you never left him for anyone else, even when he had been hurt and later temporarily died.

He knew you wanted to make it official, and he wanted it to be official as well.

Kabal had been searching several stores looking for the perfect ring for you. Debating on whether to steal it for you. After some consideration, he'd pay for it. He couldn't get married if he was in jail.

Kabal had grown up in New York all his life, however, you hadn't. You weren't even from New York. You had visited on a vacation trip and met him along the way.

You wanted to stay in contact and so did he. He gave you his number, and you both texted, called, and kept in touch until you had enough money to move to New York.

He found you a nice place and somewhere that was safe. With him being a cop, he didn't want anyone to find and possibly hurt you.

After several more months, you moved in with him and from there, things were great. Well, sort of, his injuries, other things, and you continued to care for him through it all.

He wanted to find a nice place to propose to you, but he wasn't sure of the place. He wanted something romantic, something that would be pretty, something that, if you were into that, would make a great place for photos on your Instagram. He wasn't a social media person. He didn't even have any photos, let alone any social media accounts. Actually, he had one - Facebook, and that was it. Even then, it was mostly empty. No photos, nothing.

He liked his privacy.

He walked up the steps to the house, unlocked the door, and walked inside.

"Babe, I'm home."

And there you were.

Your eyes met his, and he smiled as you wrapped your arms around him.

He lifted you off the ground and kissed you.

He set you down for a moment.

"Welcome home, love."

"Thank you. I'd like to take you somewhere special."

"Where to?"

"It's a surprise." He said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You quickly got yourself ready, and he led you to the place.

It was the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. A place filled with flowers, trees, and a pond.

He followed after you as you wandered around exploring, holding his hand.

He waited until you were in a beautiful spot. Your back was to him as he spoke and began to kneel.

"I've known you for a while now and we've been through a lot… I love you and will you spend the rest of your life with me?"

He finished as you turned towards him, your hands covering your face in shock.

You lowered your hands, nodding while saying, "Yes, I will."

He took your hand and slipped the ring on your finger. He rose and gave you a hug, a kiss and you returned the affection.

Tag List: @phantomheiko, @sunmoongoddess, @thevoidwriting / To Join My Tag List Apply Here!

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daegudrama · 1 year

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Title: The One That Got Away

Pairing: Yeonbin/Soogyu

Summary: In which Yeonjun reminisces about his first love only for him to come work at the same company as him while engaged to another man.

Word Count: 16,010 Words

ao3

Yeonjun

Sometimes I'll go weeks without checking his page, or even thinking about him, but lately that hasn't been the case. He's been creeping into my mind making me relive every beautiful moment we were together.

The tastefully decorated paper in front of me isn't making things any easier. Maybe I should let myself indulge in the memories of what we once were, if even for just a minute. I pull my phone out and quickly type in my passcode. I log into my old Instagram account from the summer after high school. Back to the time I first met Choi Soobin.

We met when we were the first people to arrive at dance class. I scroll down to that day seeing a mirror selfie with just a little of Soobin in the back. He snuck in while I was taking a photo and I got embarrassed.

"Oh, did I ruin your picture?" Soobin asked covering his face worried that he made a bad first impression.

I wouldn't know he was worried about that until much later. Soobin was immensely anxious about not fitting in with our class. He's never thought he was good enough and it breaks my heart a little more each time I see him doubting himself.

"No, it's okay don't worry about it." I said as I put my phone in my bag and began stretching.

Soobin joined me on the floor and we introduced ourselves while we warmed up. Talking to him was always easy. He has a way of putting people at ease and a level of understanding that is not common.

We both come from well off families and wanted to work in the entertainment industry. I wanted to debut in a group and he wanted to be a producer or vocalist. We were young kids that had no idea what we really wanted or what would be best for us. That summer we were chasing a wild dream.

After what I thought was the hardest dance class, but was far from it, I asked Soobin if he wanted to get boba. Neither of us had had time to really talk to anyone else and after awhile we stopped trying to. We made a few acquaintances but, most of them were just interested in dancing not making connections.

"I know this great place near my apartment. It's about three blocks away." Soobin said picking up his bag and wiping a drip of sweat from his neck.

From the moment I first saw him I thought he was attractive, but I knew the chances of him liking boys were low. I tried to not get my hopes up. Obviously, that didn't work out well but we had some great moments.

We arrived at the boba shop and realized we lived in the same building. Next door neighbors to be specific. Soobin and I talked for hours about how we ended up in this dance program. This is when I first heard about his internship.

Soobin found this dance program through a flier his academic advisor gave him. She thought it would be a great way for him to dip his toe into the industry. A way for him to hone skills. This class is selective and only twenty of the hundreds that apply get accepted. He never thought he would actually pass the audition.

As we drank our boba I took pictures of my surroundings saving them to my Snapchat memories. These days I'm glad I saved everything. Any time I miss him I can look through my old Instagram or Snapchat and suddenly it's like I'm 18 again.

I scroll to the next photo and see Soobin's shining smile staring back at me. The dimples in his cheeks and the smooth plains of his face make my heart ache. My hair was blue back then and we look so happy.

That summer I posted something every day even if it wasn't a good day. Posting a photo of us together after one day of knowing each other seemed weird to everyone else. There was just a connection that no one else could understand.

Another hard dance practice had Soobin and I going home to shower before meeting up outside our building. We decided to go on a cool down walk to a nearby riverside.

"Yeonjun!" Soobin said when he spotted me.

His hair was wet clinging to his forehead and even through his fatigue he wouldn't stop smiling. He was wearing a red tank top and black shorts. I don't think I'd remember that if not for the photo.

"Soobin, are you ready?" He swung his water bottle back and forth while nodding his head.

"You said something about a performing arts school yesterday. How difficult was it to be accepted? I applied there but didn't get accepted after my first audition." Soobin asked moments after we started walking.

I remember the sad look on his face like it was yesterday. He really wanted to attend the same school as me, but that wasn't his future. Soobin was jealous that I was chosen but I wouldn't find that out until much later.

"It was really difficult and I had to go through several rounds of auditions just to make the cut. You must've had a bad day. I've seen you dance and you are better than most of the people in my class."

I didn't know then why I was trying to hype up this beautiful dark haired man. Maybe my subconscious already knew something I didn't. I didn't lie to him about that. Genuinely, to this day, I think he was better than many of my classmates.

"Honestly, I had the worst day ever when I auditioned. I couldn't find my shoes so I was late and missed my bus. So, I ended up running to the venue and was five minutes late and already sweating. I tripped during a group number because someone else's spacing was off and when I got home my mom called me to say my childhood dog had died. I ate five ice creams to help my sorrow."

Later that summer we would laugh about his failed audition but the wound was still too fresh right then. It didn't help that I was accepted into the school he dreamed of going to.

"If your internship doesn't work out, which I'm sure it will, you can always apply again."

I wish he would have reapplied, but that wouldn't have been following his dream. For some reason he loved the idea of living in America and trying to make it there. It was always his plan B, but then it became plan A. Of course, that didn't work out for him but he's still happy.

"I guess so." He said in a defeated tone.

"What's your favorite ice cream?" I asked to deflect the conversation away.

Beside the river we sat a few feet apart still getting used to the feeling of being around each other. I remember feeling as if I could tell him everything even though it'd been such a short time. Later I would realize it's because he's my soulmate. Even now he is my one that got away.

"Do you want to take a picture?" He asked after we'd been sitting there for quite sometime.

The sun was setting nicely over the river an it was the perfect amount of light for a selfie. I nodded my head feeling the shine in my eyes as I looked at him. He set his phone on a timer on the bench in front of us and huddled close to me. He smiled wide and made a peace sign. I looked at him and felt happy. Before him I never knew another person could make me feel this way.

"We look cute." I said as we looked at the pictures together.

His hip was touching mine and my chest was filling with butterflies at an alarming rate. I wanted to reach out and touch him but I didn't think it was appropriate. After a moment I slide away giving myself room to breathe.

"Have you ever taken cute pictures like this with any other boys?" Soobin asked in an almost teasing tone.

"This is a Choi Soobin special." I replied impressed by my own quick wit.

"Do you have any dating history?" He asked after choosing the perfect photo for instagram.

If I hadn't already told him about my family yesterday that might have taken me off guard. Some part of me wanted to lie to make myself seem cooler and more attractive. My gut told me that was a bad idea.

"I've dated a few people and by a few I mean two." I said watching the light ripple of the river in front of me instead of looking into his eyes.

"Were they girls?" He asked catching me completely off guard.

Of course, I entertained the thought he might like men, but I didn't think we'd talk about it that soon. I debated whether I should come out and knew that any straight person wouldn't have asked such a question. Soobin looks into my eyes and my stomach turns.

"No." I answered simply outing myself. "What about you?"

He kept his gaze on me and answered confidently. His hands folded in his lap with his ankles neatly crossed. The confidence he held in that moment still surprises me.

"I've dated one guy last year and a girl during year nine." He paused to look at the river. "I had a fling this spring but I decided I needed to focus on performing. He couldn't understand."

After that conversation we walked home and before the doors closed Soobin followed my Instagram. I leaned against the closed door and slid down with a huge smile on my face. Choi Soobin was quite the man.

He slid in my DMs later that night and asked if I wanted to walk to class with him in the morning. Of course, I said yes and that was that. For the rest of the summer we walked together to class every day.

At the end of our first week I posted a picture of the moon beside a blurry picture of Soobin smiling. That week was so hard on my body and mind but it was the first time in so long that I was genuinely happy.

Soobin knocked on my door around 10 PM on the first Friday of that summer. He knew I was awake because he could hear my music playing. Seeing as I hadn't really talked to anyone else I knew it was him. What I didn't expect is why he was there.

"Good evening, Yeonjun. Would you care to join me on the roof for a drink?" He asked when I open the door.

He was wearing an oversized hoodie and shorts. The blue fabric contrasted against his skin nicely. There was no way I could say no to this angel face.

"Give me one minute."

I ducked behind the door and ran to my bathroom to quickly sort out my hair. I changed into a more comfortable hoodie and laced my shoes before stepping outside.

"Let's go." I said enthusiastically excited to see the view from the roof.

Soobin had lived there longer and knew the best spot for a late night drink. He had set up two chairs and someone had left a beanbag up here. Behind a concrete block he found a small table where we set our soju down.

"To a summer of success." I said after he'd poured me my first shot.

He mimicked me turning away slightly as he drank before settling back. Soobin brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and began rambling about a kid in our class.

As I listened to him speak I looked out onto the skyline appreciating the true beauty it holds. The later it got the deeper our conversation drifted. By three we knew each other's coming out stories and pieces of childhood trauma. Somewhere around one we had a photo shoot which is where the photos for that days post came from.

"And sometimes I wonder if I'm good enough to even be here." Soobin said when we were throughly drunk and out of alcohol.

I remember the heartbreaking look in his eyes as he gazed over the skyline. My mind raced to find the right thing to say to him in that moment. The intoxicated blood running through my veins wasn't helping.

"You wouldn't be here if you weren't good." I said tapping his shoulder lightly so he'd look at me. "I know talent and you have it. If your vocals are half as good as your dancing then you will be a star for sure."

"Jjuni, would you like to hear a song?" He asked suddenly smiling with a devious look in eyes.

That was the first time he called me Jjuni but it was far from the last time. The look in his eyes made me think he knew he was about to make me fall in love with him.

He sung a slow ballad as he stared off into the night sky. Soobin has golden vocal chords and a passion that can be seen from miles away. From the first note I knew I was a goner. I knew from that moment that falling for him was inevitable.

"Did you write that? I haven't heard it before." I said and he looked down shyly like he hadn't just poured his heart out.

"It's about Beomgyu." He whispered like he didn't want to admit he wrote a song about his spring fling.

Soobin loved deeply and even though he was only with Beomgyu for a short amount of time it affected him. He wants everyone to feel joy and love life as much as he does. The song was bittersweet remembering sweet words mixed with the awkward ending.

"Hey, if it's meant to be you'll find your way back." I said when I saw the sad look in his eyes.

Every cell in my body is screaming now knowing how that turned out.

"I guess you're right." He said and leaned his head against my shoulder, after pulling our chairs together.

I wrapped my arm around him nearly breathless from the close contact. After a few more minutes I decided it was probably time for bed.

"Binnie, lets go to bed." I said sleepily pulling him off the chair.

"Together?" He muttered and I wondered if he was drunker than I was.

As much as I would have loved to do that, I knew that wasn't responsible. I didn't want to completely shut out the thought so I deflected.

"Maybe tomorrow." I replied as I successfully pulled him up and gathered our trash.

"Okay." Soobin said and I led him back to his door where he got inside safely.

The next day he texted me telling what a good time it was. I can still remember how that text made my heart sing. Young love is so pure and reckless.

Each post captures another day from the best summer of my life. The first month is filled with soft orange and yellow tones. I shot them like I already knew the nostalgia they would one day bring me. Soobin's smile is the main focus and it's bittersweet.

Everyone in our class, including the instructors, thought Soobin and I were dating by the end of the first month. The truth was we hadn't done anything more than cuddle a few times, at that point. We spent so much time together that everyone made assumptions.

June 30th was the day Soobin received his acceptance email for the internship in America. That day I posted a photo of him with mountains of food in front of him.

Soobin barged in my apartment that day with the happiest look I've ever seen on his face. He rushed towards me shoving his phone in my face.

"I got accepted! I have an internship in America!!" He let me read the email as he spoke and I jumped up.

"Binnie, I'm so proud of you!" I said as I wrapped my arms around him holding him close.

At that moment a small part of my mind wondered where that would leave us at the end of the summer. We hadn't confessed yet but I was trying to plan it perfectly. In the short time we'd know each other we'd become inseparable. Soobin became my best friend so quickly the idea of being apart come August was devastating.

"Let's go get dinner! My treat." I said after he pulled away smiling down at his phone.

He picked a traditional restaurant and I didn't care how much it cost. I was so proud of him for achieving his dream. He taught me a lot about chasing dreams that summer. Sometimes I wish I'd followed my original plan.

When all the food had arrived I asked him to smile for my daily post. Throughout dinner I was planning the sappy caption that is burning my eyes right now. We laughed and talked about what he was most excited for.

"I've been meaning to say this for awhile now..." Soobin trailed off as we walked alongside the dark river only illuminated by the dim street lamps.

"What is it?" I asked taking his hand in mine.

Holding hands had become a regular thing for us at that point. It's no wonder everyone thought we were already dating. At some point all the boundaries dissipated. We were so comfortable with each other it was like we've known each other for years not one month.

"I like you. As more than a friend and I feel like I'd regret it if I never said anything. I don't want to go to America with any regrets."

I still remember the anxious look on his face as he waited for me to reply. There was so much vulnerability in the moment and I'm so glad that I could relieve the tension.

Of course, I thought there was more between us then just friends but I didn't want to assume. Part of me thought someone like him could never like me. My eyes widened when he said those words and my heart started beating a million miles a minute. Every second was precious and every moment I knew Soobin was growing more anxious. So without thought I blurted out what my heart was feeling.

"I've been trying to find the right time to tell you for the last two weeks. I wanted to find a perfect moment and make it memorable and remarkable. Everything with you is so beautiful and interesting. Of course, I like you too a lot. Probably more than I should."

He wrapped his arms around me tightly and his smile could have lit up an entire city. After he pulled away he asked the question I didn't think I'd hear that summer.

"Yeonjun, will you be my boyfriend?"

"Of course." I replied as I pulled him back into my arms.

The next morning he brought me a muffin and a coffee. He said it's what a good boyfriend does and I can still remember the happiness I felt. Soobin brought me the feeling of lying out on the river bed after a particularly long and cold winter. The warmth that I'm doubtful I'll ever feel again. We were so young and carefree.

I skip a few photos until a picture of us in front of the dance studio catches my eye. It was about a week after he asked me to be his boyfriend. We were wearing matching tank tops that the dance company provided and joggers. I'm kissing his cheek while he tried to hide his face.

Before class we asked a classmate to take a photo of us. Surprisingly, no one in the company seemed to care that we are gay. I wrapped my arm around his waist and stretched up to kiss his cheek. I think he was taken aback because we didn't have our first kiss until later that day.

To this day I'm not sure why we took so long. Maybe we didn't want to rush anything and risk ruining the greatness we had. Then again everything after the first kiss was like riding down a steep hill. It was fun, exhilarating even, until we realized there was no safe stopping point.

Dance practice was easier than usual that day and we decided to get boba afterwards. The cashier had started recognizing us because we came so often. She knew our drinks by heart and quickly had them ready.

We sat by the window and discussed what we wanted to do with the rest of the day. Soobin's dimples showed as he smiled looking out the window. After a moment he took a big sip of his drink.

"I didn't sleep well last night." He said after he swallowed and I rubbed his shoulder concerned. "Let me nap for an hour then we can go to the carnival one of the boys were talking about."

"Okay that sounds like a good idea." I replied wanting him to feel his best.

In the moment I wanted to ask why he didn't sleep well but something told me he wouldn't have given me a proper response. We had so much going on it would've been hard to pinpoint it.

While we drank our boba he gushed about how well another classmate was doing. I remember how jealous I was at the time but that's stupid kid stuff now. I had no reason to be jealous of him, but I was young and insecure.

We walked home together and went our separate ways for an hour. I spent my time watching a drama because everything else was too loud. I didn't want to disturb Soobin. He deserved to rest.

He knocked on my door when he was ready to go. His haired was styled and he was wearing a cute outfit. Nothing over the top, but different from the comfy clothes he usually wore. I had decided to step my style up too. This felt like a first date even though we hadn't said that.

There is a photo of us at the carnival somewhere on the internet but right I'll focus on Instagram.

"Kai said there are lots of games and rides!" Soobin said enthusiastically taking my hand. "He and Taehyun are already there."

I squeezed his hand and felt my stomach flutter at the sight of his pure happiness. Soobin has always been shy but for some reason he's so good at making people like him. It's gotten him far in life so far.

"I'll win you a win plushie." I promised as we sped towards the carnival.

He rolled his eyes but was over the moon when I finally managed to win him a bunny. We played games and rode rides for hours. Somewhere along that time we met up with Huening Kai and Kang Taehyun. Eventually Soobin wanted to slip away from them.

"There's something I've wanted to for awhile now." Soobin said as he wrapped his arms around my neck. I could feel the plushie he was holding against my back.

"What's that?" I swallowed my nervous anticipation trying to make myself seem like the calm, cool and collected person he knew me as.

He didn't reply, instead leaning forward to press his lips against mine. I know it sounds stupid, but I really felt the warm fuzzy firework feeling they talk about in movies. I laid my hands on his tiny waist and pulled him closer. I didn't want the kiss to end. I'd never had one quite so breathtaking. Nothing has lived up to what Soobin could do for me.

We stood in the middle of the carnival and kissed like no one could see us. Maybe we came to improve our dancing that summer, but by the end it wasn't about just that. I often wonder how different my life might be if I'd never had a taste of his love.

Later we ended up squished into my twin bed desperately trying to exhaust our overwhelming hormones. Somehow, we thought making out with nothing but the flimsy fabric of our clothes separating our bodies would help.

I stopped us for from going any further that night. It wasn't that I didn't want to; I just didn't think it was a good idea. Soobin didn't object because he's a good a human. Instead he cuddled into my side and asked if I wanted to watch cat videos.

Each day we spent together brought us closer. It got to the point where we were sleeping at each other's apartments daily. I learned his little habits but over the years I've forgotten most of them. It's funny how time erases our memories without us ever realizing. The memories I hold tightly too are the ones I surely won't forget, but they aren't always the most important.

"Yeonjun?" He asked one midsummer night after we had finished our takeout.

"Yes?" I responded from the kitchen where I was cleaning up the containers and sorting the trash.

"Why do you like me?"

I remember stopping dead in my tracks and rushing to his side. He didn't say things like that often so it worried me. For a few days I had been waiting for the moment to tell him how my feelings had changed. I knew if I didn't say anything I would regret it. We only had so much time together before we'd be across the world from each other. Before he'd leave me.

"Soobin, I like everything about you from the way you always ask for five more minutes of sleep to the way you never back down from difficult situations. You are a beacon of light in my life." I paused taking his hand in mine. "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. I know that's crazy to say because we've know each other such a short time but it's true."

"I love you too." He replied with a soft smile that reached his eyes.

That night we started the dangerous downhill journey. Recklessly in love and we didn't care who knew about it. We did everything we ever wanted in the moment. I'm not sure either of us thought there was an end in sight.

When I wasn't practicing choreography or writing songs I was by Soobin's side. Sometimes we practiced together or just watched movies. Cuddled, kissed and everything in between while I tried to brush away the thought that soon he'd be in America.

The next photo that catches my eye is our complementary tattoos. I lift the sleeve of my shirt to look at the line art bunny that is a permanent reminder of that summer.

It was after a particularly hard double rehearsal and we felt like doing something fun. Soobin had gotten yelled at for accepting the internship and for not being good enough for it. Obviously, I didn't agree with that and I told Soobin that as soon as we left class.

"Love, he's just jealous he's stuck here teaching a bunch of teenagers while you are going to be living the dream." I said wrapping my arm around his waist and trying to pull him closer.

"He's right. I'm don't deserve it. I need to prove myself. I'm not good enough."

It took me an hour to convince him he had nothing to prove. He was best in the class after me and I wouldn't lie to him. Somewhere in that hour we showered and he was plotting to get tattoos.

"Yeonjun, let's get tattoos." he said abruptly while lying on my chest. "I want something that reminds me of you every time I look at it."

I was a lot bolder then and there didn't seem to be any consequences. I thought this man would love me for the rest of our lives. How naive was I?

"What are you thinking?" I asked already knowing he was going to say a fox.

For some reason I'm referred to as a fox and he a bunny. I'm not sure why we started that or where it came from really. But now it's permanently on our bodies.

He hasn't tried to get it covered from what I know and that makes me wonder what he said when Beomgyu asked. I find some satisfaction in the fact he is reminded of me every time he sees his tattoo.

"I'll get a fox for you and you get a bunny for me."

I kissed him and told him how much I loved him. I agreed to get a bunny on my bicep and we called a taxi to the nearest tattoo shop open. We didn't care how much it cost or how long we had to wait. We just wanted this reminder on our arms. The artist drew exactly what we wanted. Simple line art drawings that haunt me.

Everything was good after that until it wasn't. The closer we got to the end of the summer the more we started arguing. We didn't know what to do because we'd been living in fantasy land for the last three months.

"So that's it?" I remember yelling on the rooftop with five days until he left for America. "You don't want to continue our relationship?"

"Yeonjun, stop twisting my words! That's not what I said." He stood in front of me with sad eyes. "I said we really need to think about what is best. We are going to be busy."

"I love you, Soobin." I said tears threatening to spill out of my eyes.

"I love you too." He said taking my face in his hands. "I'm going to be sixteen hours behind. You are going to be busy training and going to school. I'm going to be working constantly and I don't know if there is enough time for us right now."

It has been years but I can remember the pain of my heart shattering. Every word he said made me want to hold him tighter so he couldn't get away. I rested my head against his shoulder. There was no use fighting with him. He was going to get his way even if he just stopped answering me all together.

"So you want us to focus on ourselves?" I asked still clinging to him.

"Not forever just for a little while."

The photo I posted that day was of a chocolate bunny I smashed with a hammer. It was a healthy way to relieve the anger I was feeling. I was more upset than angry to be honest. I just wanted to spend my time with the person who understood me best and cared for me more than anyone ever had.

It's funny he said just for a little while, because we never got back together. I haven't talked to him in person since he left to go to America. We've been at a few of the same events but I never tell him because I still can't handle myself. It has become amicable. He wishes me a happy birthday every year and we comment on each others posts sometimes. I support the company he works for and we've even called a few times. I never say what I really want too, but that's okay I've accepted it's better for me to keep my mouth shut.

It's hard to do that when his wedding invitation to his 'spring fling' is sitting in front of me. Why on earth did he think it was a good idea to send an invitation to his ex? Does Beomgyu not care? Have I become so insignificant that he doesn't even remember? I wouldn't call us friends because it's still too awkward for that. He says he wants his friend back but we were only just friends for a month. If I was getting married I wouldn't send him one.

I was Soobin's first for a lot of things but apparently I can't hold to Choi Beomgyu. I've seen photos of them together and my heart still twinges with jealousy after all these years. They look so happy that I can't reveal how I feel no matter how much I want too.

That makes me think of a letter I wrote last year that I never sent. I wrote it right after I learned about their engagement and spent the next three days wondering why god hates me.

I walk over to the closet not knowing why I want to bring myself more pain. From under a box of college memorabilia I pull the letter I wrote. I carefully unfold it and read.

To my Binnie,

I don't know why I'm writing this because it's unlikely I'll ever send it. Writing it down is sort of therapeutic for me, I guess. I wrote a few songs but it feels wrong to release them without your permission. So here I am.

Today is five years since we met and my heart has yet to forgot the sweet melody of your voice or the hypnotic swing of your hips. Occasionally, I indulge and look at the memories I can't bring myself to erase. I think I'd lose a piece of my soul if I misplaced those.

The summer I spent with you is still one, if not the, best of my life. There was such pure euphoria in spending moments drunk on the roof or cuddling in your bed when we should have been rehearsing. When I look at our photos and videos I feel that happiness again but it's masked with sadness.

Most weeks I can go without overthinking every detail of our last month. Other times it's all I think about and I can't help but agonize over it. I can't help but wonder what we could be if we were still together. To this day, I still think you are my perfect match. There was an undeniable click from the moment we met. Being with you felt like breathing fresh air for the first time in months. I curse the universe everyday for letting me meet you at the wrong time. Maybe things would be different if we'd met now.

I miss what we had more than anything. The late night talks and the early breakfasts before dance rehearsal. The security and friendship you gave me made me feel whole again.

I know it's too late now. I've looked at your Instagram, you've moved on and seem to be thriving. You're getting married? I want to call but I don't think it's fair anymore. I don't want to intrude where I'm not wanted.

I almost text you sometimes when I see something that reminds me of you then I remember we aren't friends anymore, at least not good friends. My heart still plays tricks on me thinking you might be the one making my phone ring. It's never you though. You aren't coming back.

I might've hugged you a little tighter and kissed you a little longer if I'd know that was the last time I'd see you. I sobbed in the car outside the airport when I dropped you off. Letting you go chase your dream was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I'm not sure how I was strong enough to let the best thing in my life fly away. In another life I would've made you stay and we would've kept all our promises.

Soobin, I still love you more than anything in this world. I would give up my whole career for another shot to be with you. Nothing can compare to the way you make me feel. When you left I became an empty shell of a person. Only recently have I gotten my shit together and only because I know you would want me to be happy.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I don't think that will ever change no matter how many years pass or how many men I meet. It's always been you and it will always be you. It sounds so cliche but you are truly the one that got away. A piece of my heart is still with you and probably always will be. Take care of it please.

If you ever want to come back home you know where I hide the key.

Love always,

Your Jjuni

My words feel stupid. Even if I'd sent this nothing would have happened. At most he would have sent another long paragraph about how he's sorry he broke my heart. Beomgyu is his true love and it would be selfish for me to interfere. I won't go to their wedding unless he personally messages me. I know he won't.

I should stop dwelling on the past and get some rest. Tomorrow I'm meeting a new talent my company wants to work with. I put the letter away and get ready for bed hoping sunrise will bring a better day.

Once I get to the office I ask one of the interns where the new talent is waiting and she tells me he's in the artist lounge. I've never met this person because I've been away or busy doing other things while he was here. The other producers and managers seem to love him. I introduce myself as I enter the room.

"Hello I'm the lead choreographer and producer–"

"Choi Yeonjun." Says a voice I could pick out of a hundred people with my eyes closed.

"Why are you here?" I snap and he looks taken aback by my rudeness.

Maybe I shouldn't be so harsh. It's not his fault I can't get over him. Keeping myself at a distance is easier than letting him worm his way back into my heart. The last thing I need is a glimmer of hope. He's getting married soon.

"Because this is one of the best companies in the country and I miss my friend."

He's leaning back into the couch with a comfortable look on his face. He already seems at home. His stupid eyes shine just as bright as the last time I saw him and somehow he's even more handsome in person.

"We were hardly friends. How many times do I have to say that?"

He looks hurt at the words I'm saying. I know we were actually really good friends but acknowledging that makes it seem like I could do that again. I don't think my emotions could take being around the man who broke my heart into a million pieces and has taken half of them around the world with him.

"Did your invitation find you well?"

Why would he say that? Why have they paired me with him? I know there is no way I can get out of this. I need to act professional and not feed in to anything he says.

"We have work to do. Follow me to the rehearsal space. Don't talk about personal matters. We are in a professional environment."

I turn on my heels and walk out of the artist lounge. I briefly look over my shoulder to make sure he's following. He looks upset. Obviously, he'd imagined a more heartwarming reunion.

Soobin manages to keep it professional until the end of the day when he runs into me outside the building. I think about going back inside but I know that's a cop out.

"Yeonjun, I thought we were past this." He says following me as I start walking away. "I'm doing what I always planned."

I don't want to do this. I don't want to have this conversation again. I want to live in my bubble where I don't have to see him every day. I don't want to think about him.

"It was supposed to be me." I let the words slip and immediately regret it when I see the solemn look on his face.

I don't want him to feel what I feel. I want Soobin to be happy and have everything he wants. It's just hard when at one time I thought he'd be doing it with me. We'd talked of things far in the future and he just let them go without seeming to be hurt.

"Jjuni, it's been six years...we've talked about this." He steps in front of me. "We were kids it was foolish to think I'd come home and everything would be the same."

"Don't call me that. Every time you talk about this it's like it doesn't mean anything to you. To you I was just some summer fling but to me you're the one that got away." I say refusing to meet his eyes.

Soobin's jaw drops like he wasn't expecting me say something like that. I've refrained from saying something like this for years purely out of respect for Beomgyu. With Soobin here standing in front of me I can't possibly hide my feelings anymore.

"Of course it meant something to me." Soobin says tapping where my tattoo is hidden by my sleeve. I don't shrug him off like I should. I can't find it in myself too. I look into his eyes. "You'll always be my first love."

"You can't say that and expect me to be able to work with you every day!" I say looking behind his head in frustration. "You could've chosen any company..."

"I'm sorry...not every company has Choi Yeonjun. I want the best shot at debuting again and I want the best teacher."

Two years ago he debuted, after three years of training, with a group under a different company. They were decently successful as rookies, even winning a few awards, until rumors involving his members started circulating. The rumors were proven true. They were forced to disband and Soobin left the company.

"It's going to be years before they let you debut unless you join a group. Especially if you want to be out. They've let me be out publicly because I mostly stay behind the scenes but they typically aren't so kind to lead talent."

"I'm willing to deal with that. I really want to be your friend. I know this is hard and I'll go as slow as you need me too." Soobin puts a hand on the side of my face then quickly lets go. "I've changed a lot it's almost like meeting a new person."

"You still like late night ice cream and back rubs after a hard day. You're still empathic almost to a fault and you will do anything to make people happy. You're still shy and need to be reassured often. You still go live for your fans to avoid dance practice and hate extra exercise." I sigh looking at his expensive shoes. "Maybe a lot has changed but you're still the boy I fell in love with all those years ago."

I tap his bicep where I know his tattoo is hiding. He looks like he might wail in pain, but looks into my eyes instead. His eyes are watering and my chest aches.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He says and walks away from me without a true destination mind.

At home I pull out my college memories box again. A loose bottle cap from a Soju bottle catches my eye. It was a keep sake from the first time we drank together. But it isn't what I'm looking for.

It takes a moment to find the flash drive buried under countless notes and items from the last few years. This flash drive has seven songs about Soobin that I haven't released because it didn't feel right. Part of me wonders if it would be strange to give it to him now.

I shove the flash drive and the letter I wrote last year into my work bag. My heart tells me it's a good idea but my brain knows I'll likely never give them to Soobin.

After a quick shower I eat some instant ramen while watching videos of Soobin's rehearsal. Today was an assessment for me to see where he's at.

The higher ups trust my opinion and want my recommendation of where to place him. I will have to speak to him about his willingness to be in a group. We've been trying to form a new one.

He's improved tremendously since we danced together, but today he was having a hard time. I'm sure it has to do with the way I treated him. Being cold and professional is the last thing I wanted to do. But it was what needed to happen.

Tomorrow Soobin will be thrown in with our other trainees. He's at least four years older than most of them. Soobin is youthful and friendly even when he's shy. I'm sure he'll fit in well even with the age difference.

I find it hard to sleep with so many thoughts and possibilities assaulting my mind. I truly with my entire heart want the best for Soobin. I hate how the world treats us. He can't even legally get married here. I can't legally get married. If he wants a successful career he might have to hide a part of himself.

My dream of debuting in a group fell off when Soobin left. I decided to focus on producing and choreography. A big part of that was not wanting to hide a part of myself.

I've seen a few people over the years but nothing sticks. Management figured it out and made it clear it didn't matter to them. However, their more popular artists aren't allowed to discuss dating or many related topics. I understand in theory why they do that, but it doesn't excuse it.

Coffee is my saving grace in the morning. I'm almost late after oversleeping and I wish I could just start over. I wish I could shut my mind off for two minutes.

An intern greets me in the hallway and my greeting sounds a lot angry then I intended. I'll be sure to apologize later. Maybe I'll bring her a snack.

The trainees are waiting for me in the dance studio according to my co-worker. I walk into the studio looking at the familiar faces. Most of these trainees have been here for more than a year already.

"Choi Soobin." I say loud enough to be heard across the room. I motion for him to join me. "Everyone else stretch out."

Soobin follows me to a practice room close by and sits on the sofa when I tell him too. After sitting in a desk chair across from him I analyze his expression.

He looks worried and I guess I would be too, after being singled out. Soobin doesn't know I'm here to have a discussion about what he wants to do. I'm looking out for him. He's already trained and knows what will work for him.

"Take a deep breath. You aren't in trouble." I see his shoulders release tension. "You've been through a lot in the last two years."

He takes in a sharp breath and his eyes fly up to study my face. I'm trying my best to keep my face neutral but my acting classes are failing me right now.

"I'd rather not talk about that." Soobin says meekly.

"I didn't think you would, but I need to know how you feel about being placed. We have been trying to form a group for almost a year. If you are willing to be in another group you could debut much faster, but there will probably be sacrifices."

"Sacrifices..." He mutters squeezing his hands together. Surely a new nervous habit. "Do you think I can debut without having to hide myself?"

"Maybe if you use ambiguous language but even then you won't be able to show him off or talk about him romantically." I say truthfully.

There is a slight chance our company would let him be his true self with no boundaries. If they can see how absolutely talented and show stopping he is. I'd only our company could see him through my eyes. They'd give him whatever he wants. But I'm not in charge of publicity or contracts. They'll take my word with a grain of salt.

"Beomgyu understands the sacrifices we will have to make for me to be an idol. He's a trainee at another company, but a small one that is much more open minded."

I feel like someone's rolled a pizza cutter over my heart when Beomgyu's name leaves Soobin's lips. My mouth falls into a frown.

"I don't decide these things but I thought it might be easier to talk to me first." I say gently. "The right group is what I think would be best for you. None of this is going to be easy."

"I know, but I want it." He sighs rubbing his face. "It is kind of strange talking to you about this. I never imagined I'd actually end up here."

Has he been thinking about this for a long time? I wonder how long he's been planning on auditioning here.

"I'm breaking normal protocol doing by doing this. We should get back to rehearsal."

He says thank you before following me back to the dance studio. Soobin joins the other trainees and my phone buzzes. I see a text from a co-worker asking me to come to the recording studio. I let my co-choreography know what I'm doing and leave the room.

I notice Soobin's name on a locker near the dance studio. I try his mothers birthday (knowing that's what he used to use as a passcode) and it unlocks. Is it bad my first thought was to break in? For a moment I debate whether I should leave my note and songs.

A part of me thinks I'll regret it if I don't let him hear everything I have to say. I want everything I've felt I've ether last six years to be known. Friends isn't an option until he knows the hell I've gone through missing him.

I put the flash drive inside the envelope with the note and leave it on top of his shoes. Quickly I close his locker and lock it like I was never here. I likely won't have to see him for the rest of the day.

Thankfully, I'm so immersed in new music for the next eight hours I hardly have time to think about what I've done. Until I have to go back to the dance studio. Should I check to see if he's taken it? No, focus on what you need to do.

One of our solo artists is needed to record a promo. I spot Soobin in a practice room messing around with another trainee. I tell the solo artist where to go and that I'll be up there soon.

I knock on the door of the practice room and the boys freeze. I open the door and Soobin's face turns white. He must have read the letter...my heart rate increases drastically. I feel like I might start sweating. My face must be bright red.

"If you are going to mess around and not practice just go home. This isn't a playground." I manage to say before speed walking away.

"Is he alright?" I hear the other kid say to Soobin as I walk away.

No. I'm not okay. The love of my life just read my embarrassing letter and will surely listen to my pathetic songs soon. Why did I do this? It's not like he's going to leave Beomgyu. I've seen pictures he looks like a doll and I'm sure he's just as nice. I'm so dumb.

I manage to make it home without running into Soobin again. Anxiety has begun holding every single muscle in my body hostage. Every other thought is wondering if he's listened to the songs and what he thought. They are labeled with the date. None of them are from the last four years so hopefully that makes it a little less creepy.

While I was watching footage of the trainees my co-worked sent me my phone starts ringing. It's Soobin. I panic not picking up until the forth ring trying to think of what he's going to say.

"Can we meet up?" Soobin asks without saying hello first.

I think for a few moments before I respond. That's not what I expected. I weigh my options. We need closure. Well more like I need final closure and this will likely give me that. I agree to meet him in a bar near the trainee's dorm. This place is chill and secluded. People still recognize Soobin often. He hasn't been active publicly for awhile but not everyone has forgotten.

It's nearly midnight when I arrive at the bar. I walk inside and scan the crowded room looking for his sweet face. I find him hunched over his phone with one headphone in at a booth. He's found a corner away from everyone.

Almost silently I sit down my anxiety at an all time high. He takes the headphone out of his ear and looks up at me. Soobin's eyes are red and puffy as if he'd been crying recently. My heart sinks and all I want is to comfort him.

"I ordered you a beer you used to drink." He says and is cut off by the waitress appearing with two bottles of beer.

We thank her and I take a sip not knowing what to say right now. He called me here he should be the one to talk.

"I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused you." He says after a moment. "The songs are beautiful and heartbreaking. Our summer..."

He trails off like he doesn't know what to say about 'Our Summer.' One of the many songs I've written about him. There are more than the seven but those are the only finished ones.

"I almost sold that song to Kang Taehyun. You remember him? It didn't feel right without asking and I wasn't going to do that. Especially since you moved on remarkably fast."

"I've told you it just happened. I know it wasn't good timing." He's speaking softly almost like he doesn't want to be heard. "Taehyun would have sounded good singing that, but nothing compared to you."

WHAT IS HE DOING? Why can he still effect me like this? I wish I could switch off all my emotions and say everything I want. The songs have said basically everything though I suppose.

I take a long drink from my beer wanting him to keep speaking. I still don't know what I should say. Why did I come?

"Yeonjun, this is a lot to take in. Honestly, reading and listening to what you wrote is confusing me."

"Confusing you?"

My heart bursts with hope but my brain quickly shuts it down. He's about to get married to his dream man. Why would he even entertain the thought of leaving him?

"You're bringing up feeling for you that I never completely dealt with." Soobin says and I want to scream. "I've spent the last two hours crying, listening to your songs and reading your letter over and over. I tried calling Beomgyu to distract me but he's still at his company."

"I'm sorry I made you cry." I say briefly touching his arm across the table before realizing I shouldn't.

He catches my hand and I can see tears welling up. I stroke the back of his hand. I don't know how much more of this my heart can take. I feel like I've been transported back six years. Like it's the end of summer and we are grabbing one last drink before we have to go our separate ways.

"I'm wondering why you didn't fight harder." He flips his hand so he can hold mine and squeeze it. I hope he doesn't mind the thin layer of sweat. "The songs made it so clear you wanted to."

"I have more songs that aren't finished that would probably explain it better. You went back to your spring fling and stopped contacting me." I pull my hand away from him. It's too comfortable and making me feel better. He shouldn't have that power. "I thought it was what you really wanted. Then it got serious between you two and it definitely wasn't right for me to intervene."

"At the time I started seeing Beomgyu again losing you was still my biggest regret. The first year and a half was rough because I didn't realize why I wanted him so bad. At first it wasn't about Beomgyu it was just that he was there." He buries his head in his hands and sighs. "I accepted you weren't going to come after awhile and became actually happy with him."

I pound my beer before saying my next words.

"So, what you're saying is things might be different if I'd just called a few more times?" I can feel my nose starting to burn as I hold in tears.

"I don't know what would have happened but—"

He is cut off by the sound of his phone buzzing on the table. Soobin's eyes meet mine as we see the name 'Beomie 💛' lighting up his screen. I nod for him to take it crossing my arms across my chest. He puts in his headphones and answers the call.

"Hi, love." He says and I want to gag. "I'm actually talking with one of the producers right now. I'll be back at my dorm soon."

I laugh at his half lie. He is talking to a producer but one who is also his ex-boyfriend. Soobin listens for a moment humming occasionally to show he's listening.

"Okay sleep well." A brief pause. "Me too."

"Why'd you lie to him?" I ask as soon as he's removed his headphones. He won't look me in the eye like he might be ashamed.

"Are you not a producer?" His smart ass remark makes me want to kiss his stupid lips.

"What did you tell him about..." I trail off reaching over the table to touch his bicep. He flinches away and I withdraw my hand.

"He knows we have complementary tattoos. He doesn't like it at all." Soobin sighs reaching for my hand like I might relieve the stress he's feeling. I'm too weak to push him away. "He's asked me to get it covered but later he realized that was a really dramatic reaction."

"He sounds...lovely." I can't mask the sarcasm heavy in my tone.

"I promise he's a good person. I wouldn't be marrying him if he wasn't. In the early days things were different because I was confused."

He lets go of my hand and his cheeks are red. I want to touch them so bad. Just a little caress...my heart is pounding just thinking about it. Even if I just poked his dimple maybe I'd find some relief.

The waitress brings us another round and she looks like she wants to say something but she doesn't walking away. I take a drink of my beer then speak.

"Why did you lie to him?" I press not letting go of it.

Why would he need to lie if Beomgyu is such a nice guy? Why would Soobin come to my company when his fiancé seems to not like me? I suppose I wouldn't want my love working with their ex either.

"I don't want him driving across the city to come fight you." Soobin takes a big drink and makes a face like he isn't used to the taste. "He's very protective. A lot of the people close to me in the last two years have turned out to be wildly different than what I thought. Beomgyu just wants to protect me."

I could protect him. I'm sure I have far more connections than Beomgyu. The people I work with are some of the best. Sure, there are always some unpleasant characters but he could be so happy with me. I suppose that's why he choose this company. Even if he's not mine he still wants to be around me. Can I handle being just his friend?

"Let's have a real drink." I say chugging my beer as I flag the waitress over.

As the younger one here he won't refuse. The more we drink the easier it will be to talk about everything we need to get out. We need to find a comfortable spot so we can work together peacefully.

Soobin insists on paying the bill since he called me here. He follows me to a nearby convenience store with almost no fight. The cashier recognizes him and asks for a photo but he declines. He does sign a napkin. Technically, he's not suppose to do that, but I'm not going to snitch. I buy two bottles of soju and we end up on the roof of my building.

I don't live too far from the trainee dorms. When he has to walk home he'll be fine. I'll make sure he's safe. Even if I have to walk him home myself.

"I'm feeling a lot of déjà vu right now." Soobin says after we've taken two soju shots. "Do you bring boys up here often?"

"They only see the inside of my bedroom." I say boldly hoping to elicit a reaction.

"I forget you don't know how to love anymore." He clicks his tongue. "Fake Love made that quite clear."

"Remember that song you sang me about Beomgyu?" I ask and he nods his head with a far off look in his eye. "Your group fucking ruined it."

We take two back to back shots. Soobin's face scrunches and every minute he is more handsome. Has his face always been so smooth? Have his lips always looked forever waiting to be kissed? Even his hair is recovering from the damage done by his last company.

"They took me off lead on a song I wrote and produced!" He says passionately. His eyebrows scrunched together in anger. "I'm so glad I'm free of them. Sometimes I wish I'd never gone to America. I wouldn't have found them if it wasn't for my internship."

He takes a sip of juice I brought out from my fridge. I knew he'd need something to sip on. He's not as strong a drinker. Soobin shakes the bottle a little as our conversation continues.

"But you wouldn't have found Choi Beomgyu again." I say and he smiles when he hears his fiancé's name.

"Isn't it funny how we are all Choi's?" He giggles and I had forgotten how beautiful it sounded. "Yes, life went this way because that's what was meant to happen."

He pours us other round and holds it up waiting for me to toast with him. I'm reluctant because we've already had so many in a short period. But if I'm going to make an ass of myself might as well do it throughly.

"To one day being my best friend again." Soobin says with the biggest smile on his face.

He takes this shot no problem and I pull the bottle away. We'll take a little break. He's going to wake up hungover as fuck tomorrow. I'll feel bad about it tomorrow but if he feels just a little bit of what I've felt for six years maybe it's okay.

"Have you been together all six years?" I ask fidgeting with a loose thread on my pants.

"We broke up for a few months around our two year anniversary but we don't count it. I should've called then." He muses looking out on the city lights.

How can he say this and not expect me to kiss him? Or at the very least fight harder than I ever have for him. He had doubts and wanted to call me but didn't. I didn't think he could hurt me anymore than he already had. I was wrong.

"If you're so happy why are you saying that?"

"I wonder what my life would be if it was you I was marrying." He sneakily pours another round and shoots the shot. "I think about you more often then I'll ever admit. Beomgyu is practically perfect for me expect..."

Why is he doing this? All he is doing is giving me hope just for it to free fall and splat on the cement. I'd rather have no hope at all. At least then he can't hurt me more.

"What could he be missing? You fill your private socials with love letters to him and it's obvious your songs were about him."

I'm desperate for an answer. I feel like I'm being led on. He says things that catch my attention and give me hope. I can't do this.

"There is a level of spark and connection that I had with you..." He pauses moving closer to me. "that I've never had with Beomgyu but I love him."

My breathing quickens as he moves closer but he only wants to pour me another shot. I take the first shot, then another wondering when this will numb my pain. I should send him home before I do something stupid, like confess my love again.

Soobin starts ranting about my songs and analyzing them. It's obvious that he loved them and he feels cool having songs about him. He keeps coming back to the happiest of the seven 'Our Summer.' Soobin can't describe how it makes him feel, but he says it's his favorite.

"I've written songs about you as well but my old company said it was 'too depressing' for my group."

I look up at him wondering what he's written about me. The songs about Beomgyu are usually sickeningly sweet. They don't use male pronouns but to anyone who knows him personally it's obvious. Most of the music produced with his former group was pretty bright and sweet. I can see why they didn't want something about his summer fling.

"You'll have to play them for me sometime, Binnie." I say instead of the million things I'm thinking. His eyes light up when I call him by his old nickname. I've never wanted to read someone's mind more than I do right now. I want to know what he's thinking. What he's feeling. "Does he call you that?"

"No, it's reserved for you and my family. My fans used to call me it as well." He pauses with a somber expression. "I wonder if they'll support me if I ever debut again."

My head snaps towards him and we lock eyes. I can feel my face wrinkled with confusion. Of course he's going to debut again! It may take some time but of course he will.

"The only reason you won't debut again is if you give up on your dream." I touch his cheek. Probably not my best idea."I see your fans talk on twitter. They miss you a lot and can't wait for you to post new content. They'll support you when you debut again. How could they not? You're so special. I've never met an idol as down to earth and genuinely talented as you are."

I back away slowly. I'm dancing with the devil and I need to control myself. I'm his superior now. He has a fiancé. We aren't kids anymore. We can't make stupid mistakes, but I want to be stupid so bad. I want to kiss him just one more time.

"Thank you, Jjuni." He says and this time I don't protest.

Hearing my nickname from his lips has a sort of calming effect on me. He looks so handsome sitting on the ground. His hair shinning in the dim light and his head thrown back looking at the stars. I wish I could stay in this moment forever, but I should get him back to his dorm.

"I think you should go home. You have rehearsal in the morning and if you drink anymore you'll be sick."

Soobin glares at me leaning over to snatch the second soju bottle. He quickly twists the cap and starts chugging.

"Soobin, no!" I exclaim as I try to take the bottle away without chipping his teeth.

Somehow I manage to pull it away without hurting him. Why would he do that? Is he okay? Under normal circumstances this isn't something he'd do. Maybe he's more impulsive than when we are together. Or maybe just an alcoholic.

He turns his back on me and pouts. I drink the rest of the bottle, which isn't much because he's a vacuum apparently. I think of how to address him and my drunk mouth deceives me.

"Love, we have rehearsal and my stupid ass has to be there too. I'll get in trouble if they find out we were drinking together."

He faces me when I say love and his eyes are watery. Soobin bolts forward and hugs me. I almost lose balance but manage to stay upright. I wrap my arms around him as tight as I can. Who knows when I'll get this opportunity again. I can feel his tears on my chest. I hold the back of his head tightly.

"I miss you." He whispers so quietly I'm not sure he meant it or wanted me to hear.

He wears the same cologne and definitely washes his clothes with the same scent. Soobin smells like home and my heart feels so warm with him in my arms. I wish I could stay here forever.

"I missed you too. Let's go, I'll walk you home."

By now all the other trainees should be asleep. If they aren't I'll pay them to be quiet. Soobin follows me closely hanging on the sleeve of my jacket. We might look like best friends to anyone who saw us. I wish that was the case. I wish there wasn't so much baggage between us.

A few building over I pull Soobin to a stop. I don't want to be spotted just in case. He holds my hand while standing in front of me and I let my mouth slip again.

"I love you."

He hugs me tightly for a moment before speaking. Soobin has a dreamy expression that makes me think he's very intoxicated. He probably won't remember this tomorrow and that's for the best.

"And I love you but I've built a life with someone else. Perhaps if this happened five years ago things would be different. Let's forget this ever happened." He kisses my cheek and disappears up the street and into his building.

Sobs wrack my body as I slip into an alleyway and slide down the wall. I curl into a ball putting my head on knees. I can't contain myself. I just want to scream.

He loves me too, but he doesn't want me. How am I suppose to look him in the face every day? Does he think I won't remember this? Does he think that I'll be able to act like his friend when I know how he really feels? Did my songs make this much of a difference? Or was this waiting just below the surface?

I hope he doesn't do anything stupid when he gets home. Despite the fact he just broke my heart again I can't wish ill towards him. I want him to be happy but why would he tell me he loves then walk away.

It's about twenty minutes before I pull myself off the ground and walk home. Crying for so long has left me feeling empty. I somehow set an alarm but fall asleep fully clothed.

A few hours later my alarm is blaring and I just wish I could permanently sleep. I shut the alarm off seeing I have plenty of time to get ready. My head is pounding and my stomach is turning. I drink a glass of water and take a pain reliever on my way to the shower.

Once in the shower the previous evening replays in my head and there are more tears. I pull myself together enough to make it outside. There is a ramen place near my apartment that is open almost all the time. I head that way in search of spicy noodles to help my hangover.

An hour later I'm feeling a little better as I walk into the company building. I head into my office and start looking through tracks. I don't feel like being in a room with loud speakers right now. I especially don't want to be in a room with Soobin unless I'm needed.

Two hours after rehearsal starts the other choreographer asks me to switch out because he's needed somewhere else. Begrudgingly, I close my programs and walk to the dance studio.

I greet a few people on my way but don't stick around to make conversation. All the trainees are present when I arrive. They are scattered around the room on their phones or drinking water. It takes me a moment to locate Soobin talking to the oldest trainee other than himself. He locks eyes with me and smiles. My heart shatters into smaller pieces. He doesn't remember or is pretending he doesn't.

"Split into trios. We are going to do this until every one of you can get this right with your eyes closed."

I work them harder than I need to just so I won't have to talk to Soobin. A few times I rudely corrected him and he looks taken aback. He can't receive special treatment. I can't be his friend. He loves me and still decides on someone else.

"Yeonjun!" Soobin calls after me when I'm leaving the building much later after a mentally exhausting day.

"Mr. Choi." I snap back continuing to walk away from him. He catches my arm and I pull away from him.

"Come on, I'm not calling you that." Soobin says showing off his stupid perfect teeth. "We used to sleep together. Aren't we past that?"

I flinch when he says 'sleep together' so causally. It makes it seem like we were just fooling around. I understand where he's coming but boundaries are important.

"Do you remember what you said last night?" I ask and he tilts his head to the side.

"After you wrestled the soju bottle away it was pretty much a blur. Don't take anything I said too seriously I was gone."

He makes a broad hand gesture and I can still see people coming out of our building. I pull him somewhere our co-workers won't see us. Still close but no one would think to look over here.

"So, I should just live with whatever you told me? Just forget this ever happened." I crook my fingers into quotation marks and he only looks more confused.

"What did I say to you?" Soobin asks with a worried expression. "I'm sure whatever it was I didn't mean it. We all say stupid shit when we've drank too much."

"Is telling me, you love me but you've built a life with another person and if this had happened five years ago maybe it'd be different, stupid shit?" I speak quickly on the verge of tears.

"Oh...I meant that." He looks over his shoulder and sees a trainee leaving and runs towards him before I can say anything.

He knows I can't follow without looking suspicious. I can't hang out with him often without being reprimanded. I walk back to my apartment sulking and wishing I'd never given him my songs or that note. Maybe things could have been just fine and normal between us. Or maybe eventually it would've come out anyways. Either way I wish I could go back in time.

My evening is spent wondering what I should do about this situation. There isn't much I can actually do. Soobin has obviously made his mind up. I'm not going to tell Beomgyu what he's said to me. Even after his confession I don't think telling his fiancé would do anything. Beomgyu might try to keep him away from me if he found out. Would I rather live without him at all?

It takes every ounce of my self control not to call him. I want to figure this out in a place where he can't run away. It's funny how the confession I've been dreaming of for years has torn me apart.

Impulsively, I email my boss. I rarely take time off or use my sick days. In the email I say I'm going through a personal crisis, but I'm in no immediate danger, and will be using my days off. I assure that I will be back in two weeks and sign off before sending it.

A speck of weight leaves my shoulders knowing I won't be forced to see Soobin. A fantasy of him seeking me out plays through my mind but I shove it away. Wishful thinking will get me nowhere.

I feel as though I'm at a moral impasse. Part of me wants to be with Soobin and fight for him no matter who he is engaged to. The other part of me realizes that's selfish because he's built a life with Beomgyu. Soobin and Beomgyu have been together practically their whole adult lives.

Must I leave it up to him? He must be confused right now as well. If he wants to talk we will, if not I'll just have to find a way to cope. Life isn't always sunshine and rainbows. I can't live in the fantasy land where he wants to be with me.

Maybe I'll just pretend it never happened. Could I see him around the company every day and not feel like my heart is being beat to a fine powder?

I walk to my living room and lie across the couch scrolling through social media. I'm about to put my phone down when I see Soobin has added to his story.

Technically, he's not supposed to have an Instagram account but again I'm not going to snitch. It's private and only his closest friends and family follow it. People that would never try to expose his relationship.

I click on the story and see he's having dinner with Beomgyu. Soobin calls him baby bear in the caption and he's put a location tag. It's like he's taunting me. It takes every bit of common sense I have not to run down there. He's out on a date with his fiancé less than 24 hours after confessing to me.

My next thought is to invite someone over and sneakily post about them to see if he'll get jealous. I don't think that'd be fair to the guy. I can't be that person right now. There isn't much hope I'd make it through that experience without tears.

I scroll through twitter and see a photo of Soobin and I posted by one of his fans from my old Instagram. I immediately go to instagram and private the account. I'm not sure how it took them this long to find those, but the last thing he needs is more rumors. Some of those photos could definitely spark controversy. Particularly our tattoos and a few pictures of us almost kissing.

The fan seems mad I privated the account so quickly. They had already gotten a few photos but none that could do real damage. I see Soobin's fans speculating about how we know each other. I've worked with a lot of people so my name is decently know.

I spend a few hours watching them come up with theories until I find the right one. It's known that Soobin went to a dance studio for a summer before going to America. It's easy enough to find us on the alum list for the program. Even if they figure the rest out neither of us will confirm anything.

It's nearly three in the morning by the time I fall asleep. Trying to figure out what to do for two weeks is difficult. I could go see my family but I don't think it'd be very helpful to me right now. Staying locked up in my apartment seems like the worst option.

When I wake up I have an email approving my time off and a few texts from concerned co-workers. I assure everyone I'm okay before getting up. After showering, I go out for breakfast.

No one bothers me while I'm eating and I decide to visit my old dance studio. The one where I fell in love with Soobin. Possibly I'll find some kind of clarity there. But I'm not keeping my hopes high.

I take a cab to the studio wondering what kind of classes are going on right now. Maybe I could join. It's been awhile since I've done any kind of workshop.

The receptionist greets me kindly asking if I'd like to take a class. She stares at me like I look familiar. I've never seen her here before. I often come to visit my hyung. She must be new. There is literally a photo of me, along with other notable alum, on the wall in the hall between the studios.

"Actually, I'm wondering if Park Jimin is here?" I fiddle with the edge of my jacket.

"He's teaching a class right now in studio B. He should be done soon." She says looking down at her monitor. Then she suddenly looks up surprised and says, "Choi Yeonjun? Oh! Go right ahead."

I thank her smiling before I turn towards the studio Jimin is teaching in. I peer in the window not wanting to break them mid dance. Looks contemporary. I wait until they stop before entering the room.

"Choi Yeonjun!" I hear a few people stage whisper and not going to lie it boosts my ego.

Jimin turns around and a surprised look takes over his face. His pillow lips are slightly parted and his eyes are inviting. He runs towards me and wraps his arms around my waist. Jimin lets go half way to address his class.

"Cool down then you're free to go. Practice at home and I'll see you tomorrow." Jimin lets go of my waist.

He has a different air around him when he teaches. Much stricter and less playful. Jimin has dyed his hair blue for an upcoming music video he's dancing in. It's been awhile since I've seen him and it makes me genuinely happy to be here.

Jimin leads me to his office as we get through the normal small talk. He knows me well though and can tell something is off. Why else would be here in the middle of the day?

"Are you alright? I haven't seen you in awhile." He sits in a comfy looking rolling chair and I take a seat on the sofa.

"Honestly hyung, the last few days have been pretty rough. Soobin is a new trainee at my company."

Jimin gasps looking over my head to a collage of his favorite students. He points and I nod my head. I take him through everything that has happened in the last few days. He knows the rest of the story we've been friends for years now. Jimin has set me up on many failed dates.

"Yeonjun..." Jimin seems shocked like he doesn't know what he'd do in this situation. "I've known you for years, and one thing I'm sure of is if you don't fight your very hardest right now you'll regret it for the rest of your life. He's precious to you and that means you should do everything in your power to win him back. If after you put your everything into trying to make him see how much you love him and he still marries Beomgyu you have to move on. I don't want to see you so miserable for the rest of your life. You deserve to find someone who makes you even happier than Soobin makes you feel."

Jimin locks eyes with me while he speaks and I can tell he's deeply concerned. This isn't the first time we've talked about Soobin, but I can tell he wants it to be the last. At least in this kind of situation.

"I'm just not sure that I can take him breaking my heart again." I sigh rubbing my hands across my face. "He seems so happy but if he was actually happy why would he tell me that?"

Jimin shakes his head and I can tell he thinks I'm being naive. Usually that would hurt my feelings but I've had a little too much of that lately to really care.

"You wrote the boy a whole EP and a letter. That'd make me say things I usually wouldn't." He focuses on Soobin's photo. "Have another conversation, sober, and try to find some solid ground. Figure it out before you go mad."

We talk for a little while longer while he updates me on his life. He's hiring a new dance instructor and he's really excited. The studio is doing better than ever. Jimin promises to come teach a class at the company soon. He walks me to the entrance and we hug before parting ways.

I end up going for a walk past my old apartment building. Eventually, I end up near the river and I'm about to leave to get a meal when my phone dings.

Soobin's name is on my screen. My heart flutters and I wish I could stop the idiotic optimism in my body. He's sent me a text message that is just an audio file. Trusting he isn't trying to hack my phone I download the file. I take my headphones out of my pocket and put them in.

I press play on the audio recording and gloomy piano starts later joined by an acoustic guitar. It's a song about me. He recalls the highest highs and lowest lows we had creating a bittersweet melody. It's the kind of song that makes you wish you could make someone else feel that way. The stand out message is that he'd take the lowest moments a million times over to experience the best ones again.

Walking away from the river I message Soobin asking him if he wants to talk in person. I tell him to meet me at our old spot in an hour. That gives me plenty of time to eat before he'll arrive. Though it might have to be later since he's probably at the company.

After hours of meaningless wandering without a message I head home. Just as I've kicked my shoes off his name lights up my phone. I don't know what I was thinking earlier. Just because I'm not at work doesn't mean he isn't.

I unlock my phone to see he's sent a text message. He says we can meet up in thirty minutes and he's sorry for replying late. I pick a location far enough away from our company that we won't cause suspicious. It's a park I used to walk in a lot when I first started working.

Despite knowing nothing is going to happen I find myself freshening up. I change into a top that's his favorite color and sigh. If only he could just be with me easily. Life plays me hard cards and I'm too stupid to figure out what I should do.

As I walk to the park I listen to his song again. It's nothing like the music his former group released. This means something. It's so deeply personal but in a way that could still be relatable to a wide audience.

Sometimes I feel as if I'm the only one who has been through this kind of heart break. I know that isn't true and music constantly reminds me I'm not alone. Millions of people have felt this way.

"Yeonjun?" I hear Soobin say from behind me.

I sit down on a bench that overlooks a stretch of grass. He joins me sitting as far away as he can. Through the dim street lights I can see how nervous he looks.

"Why'd you send me the song?"

He takes a deep breath shuffling in his seat. My guess is he was being impulsive and sent without thinking. Soobin obviously doesn't know how much pain he's causing me.

"You didn't come to work today and I'm having a hard time expressing myself." He pauses looking over at me. "My music is the only way I can make you understand. I meant to send more but I had to go back to rehearsal."

I'm replaying the song in my mind. Alone that song just makes me yearn harder. Hearing he would take the pain again for just a little happy with me hurts.

"You keep running away when I try to talk. Every moment I spend around you makes this harder. You can't tell me you still love me then go out to dinner with your baby bear." I practically sneer the last two words. "You lied to him and he doesn't deserve that no matter how much I want you."

"I wish it was you sometimes." His voice cracks and my instant reaction is to wrap an arm around his shoulder. "I know how fucked up that sounds. Beomgyu is incredible and I love him so much but he's not you."

He's crying and my heart is hardly under control. Part of me can't understand why he doesn't just leave Beomgyu. The sensible part of me knows sometimes you just aren't meant to be with someone. Soobin's face is buried in my chest and I rub the back of his head.

I gather every ounce of selflessness in my body while preparing a speech. There are a lot of things I want but there is no point in putting myself through more pain. The love of my life is sitting in my arms crying about how confused he is. I don't want him to feel like I have since the moment he left.

"As much as I love you and want you to leave him I know it's not good for you. I want you to be happy and I wish that was with me but it's not. Beomgyu makes you happy and seems like he can take good care of you." I take a deep breath trying to fight off the tears. "We can't keep living in the past. All that's going to do is hurt us. Everything will work out."

Soobin lifts his head tears running down his cute cheeks. I wipe away the tears and he tries to calm himself down. He wipes his face with his sleeves leaving traces of foundation.

"I'm so thankful for you."

His words make my heart flutter and I wonder if that will ever go away. We talk a little while longer and I explain I'm taking some time off. He asks what he needs to do to make me more comfortable. I explain to him we need to become friends again. Just friends.

It's takes months before my heart doesn't stutter every time he walks into a room. Soobin sent the rest of the songs about me and it helped me understand. Around month three Soobin suggested I hang out with Beomgyu. I was really against it at first but with some persuasion I gave in. He is a really nice person and I think we could be good friends.

If you told me last year I would be singing an original piece at Soobin's wedding to someone else I would have laughed in your face. But here I am in my best suit waiting for guests to arrive. Soobin is across the room touching up his makeup.

A part of my heart will always belong to him. Maybe in another lifetime we'll be together. This time he's meant to marry Beomgyu and have a long happy life. I've grown happy for them with little jealousy or malice.

I cross the room and stand behind him. Soobin is brushing his cheeks with a light blush. I watch him in the mirror and he smiles when he realizes I'm behind him. I'd be lying if I said his smile isn't dazzling anymore.

"You sure about this, Binnie?" I say in what I hope is a joking tone.

"Yes, Jjuni. I've never been more sure." He turns around with a huge smile. "Are you ready?"

I rarely perform in front of crowds but I'm not nervous about that at all. Even after coming to terms with all this it's still going to be hard to watch him get married.

"Of course, anything for you." I tap his bicep where his fox tattoo is hidden by his white tuxedo. He does the same to me before turning away for a final look in the mirror.

The ceremony is beautiful. So many people from our past are here. Jimin clutches my hand tightly while they say their vows knowing how hard this must be for me. A few others that know Soobin from our summer give me sympathetic glances. But I'm okay. I feel happy to be a part of such a special moment in their lives.

The song I wrote for them is actually an older piece that was about Soobin and I. With some changed lyrics and the addition of 'baby bear' no one will be able to tell it was what I wanted to sing at my wedding. I preform powerfully and the audience kindly gives me a standing ovation. My eyes lock on Soobin as I bow and I think he can tell this wasn't always their song.

Soobin is so surrounded by guests congratulating him and Beomgyu, he doesn't have a moment to call me out. Maybe I shouldn't have done that but everyone seemed to like it.

Kang Taehyun finds me after we've eaten a wonderful meal and compliments my performance. We keep talking until the speeches start. Taehyun is a solo artist who gets more popular every year. I'm really proud of him. He don't talk as much as we used too. Maybe I'll talk with him more after this.

The speeches make my heart ache so I swiftly down the champagne Soobin and Beomgyu have so kindly provided. I don't remember much of what is said but the dancing afterwards is fun.

Taehyun stays by my side and we dance the whole night. I learn so much about him that I never knew. The years have been kind to him and it makes me hopeful that I have a new friend.

As I'm about to leave the venue Soobin pulls me into a dressing room. His cheeks are flushed and it's showing through what makeup he hasn't cried off. He looks so handsome with the dim light shining onto his face.

"Congratulations." I say softly. "I'm happy that you found your person."

His face contorts like this isn't the response he expected. I've grown a lot in the last few months. It's time for me to stop with my childish fantasies.

"Thank you." He says shoving his hands in his pockets. "I really liked your song though I wish it would've been actually about Beomgyu and I."

"Can't expect me to be perfect all the time, Binnie."

He laughs thinking over something for a minute before he speaks again. Soobin runs a hand through his hair ruining the perfectly sculpted quiff.

"Thank you for being here." He pauses reaching out to touch my hidden tattoo. "Love you."

For the first time my heart doesn't skip a beat at those words. I can tell he means it in a friendly way. The lack of I bothers me momentarily but I brush it off. I step forward and hug him tightly.

"Love you too."

#fanfiction #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #yeonbin #soogyu #choi yeonjun #choi beomgyu #choi soobin #the one that got away #angst #fluff #tubatu

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

From Blood, Love and Courage - Chapter Eighteen.

A huge thank you to everyone for your continued interest. 25 notes needed to unlock the next chapter, as usual :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen

Words - 4,355

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Once they’d arrived home, they took a long shower together before coming back out to spend some time with Charlie, the bird hopping up and down Angel’s legs, playing with the tie on the front of his dark grey sweats.

“Hey, you stop that! Don’t you be getting that beak near my junk, bro!” Leaning forward, he grabbed the baby teething rings from the coffee table, ones that looked like a set of chunky, brightly coloured keys, Charlie pacified immediately. “What are you looking at, baby?” Leaning over, he saw Lily searching through Instagram, looking for a certain person in particular.

“I know which area he lives, he’s in San Francisco. I’m just not exactly sure where,” she told him, turning the screen of her phone to reveal Johnny’s Instagram account.

“I can find that out for you, we have people who we rely on for that kind of information. I’ll have an address by tomorrow.”

“Ahh, fucking fuck!” she suddenly cried, closing her eyes with a sigh. “Look at this.” Clicking on a post, the view from the aeroplane window, she handed her phone to Angel, who read the accompanying text.

‘Dreams come true if you trust and believe! Currently in the air on the way to Thailand for nine weeks, to train with my good buddies at @tigertigermuaythai. Stoked beyond words! See ya later, California!’

The post was from four days ago, meaning he’d be out there for a while.

“Well, this means we can plan what to do,” he began, crossing his legs, reaching to stroke Lily’s thigh. “I propose that me and a couple of the guys go watch his movements, do what we did tonight, bring him back to the club and let you do to him what I did earlier. Or whatever you want. It’s all up to you.”

“He’s out there in another country now, free to do this to whatever other woman. He obviously thinks it’s justifiable. What if another girl pisses him off and he does the same, or no! What if he’s a fucking date rapist too. All those girls out there on vacation he’ll have access to. God damnit, it makes me so angry!”

Scrolling through his Instagram, she began to get a good measure of him, even more so when she found, and thusly spent time viewing his Twitter feed. “Oh my god! Look at this! He’s fucking defending Trump over his comments towards women!” The more she read, the more she learned of the man she knew virtually nothing about before; he was a clear misogynist. So that’s why he’d jumped at the chance to fight her, he likely thought such would be easy, his own chauvinistic confidence dictating clearly to him that he could know her flat, as a superior male.

All the evidence was there of a clearly superior attitude. Apart from more than a mere smattering of pro-Trump propaganda, there were a number of tweets containing material where Johnny weighed in on his thoughts over abortion and body autonomy (‘it’s a woman’s responsibility not to use abortion as a contraceptive’ he had stated) over slut shaming (‘women in itty bitty clothes are asking for any kind of attention they can get’) and the debate over equal pay (‘women aren’t equal, their salaries should reflect this’) along with a whole host of other unsavoury comments that had the couple quietly fuming.

“Did Larry not know any of this prior to putting you in an octagon with him?” Angel commented, after they’d scrolled and read through a few of those posts. “That’s nothing against Larry either, I wanna add. I’m just wondering.”

Lily closed the window on her phone, shaking her head. “We don’t tend to look at online presences, it’s all what we do in training or in the octagon itself.” She sat thoughtfully for a few moments, chewing her thumb, turning to him suddenly. “I really can’t discount that he hasn’t done this before.”

His eyebrows raised, nodding. “I think that’s a fair enough opinion to have. I mean, what kind of fucking woman hating, twisted up mind just goes to rape and battery like that? And not just on a whim; the guy fucking planned it all meticulously, obviously had your movements tracked, knew there were nights you walked down to the yard alone. He spent months with it festering in him. Hell yeah, I’m with you, mamas. I think he has.”

Getting up, Lily went to the bar, picking up the bottle of vodka and swigging from it directly. “I know it’s a weird thing to say,” Angel began, viewing her sip back another mouthful, “but I feel like tonight, a little of the old Lily came back. The fucking badass fighter I fell in love with, the one I thought was gonna swing at me when I first saw her. I know you still got a lot of shit to process, but it was good, to see a little of the old you return. Probably feels anything but good for you, though, learning what you did tonight.”

She placed the bottle down, moving back to sit down next to him. “I felt better for watching that man die. Watching you do as you always promised you would, now knowing he can never do it to another woman ever again. The fury of knowing that it was someone within my world, not playing by our rules brought a little of the old me back, but I feel no better for her return.”

Of course, she wouldn’t. He’d acknowledged that, too, but felt a little dumb for speaking it, his mouth twisting as he looked down. “Hey, what’s this face for?”

“Ahh, nothing.” He waved it away, reaching to pet Charlie, still busy with his keys. “I just feel stupid for saying it was good to see you looking more like your old self, and you’re buggin’ out with anger. It was ridiculous.”

She snorted softly, leaning to kiss his cheek. “No, it wasn’t. I’ve been someone else for the past two months nearly. I might be letting in room for anger now, and still not quite one hundred percent myself, but you were right. A little of the old me came back tonight. Now, a little of the old me has a pressing question for you, because now I’m feeling more confident at being around people again, I want us to resume the house hunt. I’ll need something to throw myself into, rather than sit and stew over Johnny fucking Boswell, and I’m tired of throwing money at an apartment I’m not gonna go back to.”

She’d only returned to collect more belongings from her place a few times since it had happened, of course not wanting to be on her own. She still didn’t like it, but she was adjusting. Her living circumstances, though, she was very content with. Angel was a great guy to cohabit with. Mainly because he was actually very neat and cleanly, he couldn’t abide mess or dirt. He was a great improvement on her last ex, who left crumbs everywhere, dirt rings around the tub and laundry all over the floor.

“Alright, let’s do this.” He grabbed his phone from the coffee table, softly scolding Charlie when he made a beeline to bite his pendant as he so often did, the bird scuttling up his bare chest and lying down to snuggle, Angel stroking his head as they looked through houses. Of course, all the ones they’d had to cancel appointments to view after Lily’s attack had been rented out by then, but a fresh crop of homes had been added, the pair finding three they liked the look of, Angel emailing the agents to express their interest in viewing them.

Once done, they stayed awake talking for a little longer, Lily fetching him a beer while she made herself a hot chocolate (being berated for using his favourite mug, the huge one he drank his morning coffee out of that he was always afraid she’d accidentally break) sitting up talking before heading to bed.

“You know, I meant to tell you this earlier.” She rested her head on her chest, comfortable under the blankets with him, the night unusually a little chilly for Santo Padre and its ever-present heat. “The sight of you, all sweaty and covered in blood, it did something quite pleasant to me, you know.”

He was immediately interested by such a statement. “Oh, it did, huh?”

“Mmm, yes. It made me actually feel desire, for the first time since... yeah. Since that night.”

He couldn’t deny, he liked where this was heading. “And is that something I can help you with?”

She kissed his chest, her hands curling around him to stroke his back. “I think it is.”

“Okay, but there’ll be conditions.” He lifted her chin, kissing the tip of her nose. “We take it slow, and if you even so much as freak out a tiny bit, brakes are on and we stop. I don’t want you rushing yourself into anything if you’re not ready.”

“I’m ready,” she confirmed, nuzzling him. “Because despite the fact that I might still feel a little fear, there’s something else I need in order to keep on healing from it all. I need the last man inside me to be you again, and not them.”

He nodded, kissing her, holding her to him as they stroked one another, having very, very strong words with himself. ‘You will hold yourself back, you will NOT go into this like a fucking raging bull.’ He knew he’d struggle with it, such was his overwhelming lust and longing for Lily, but this was not about him or his needs. This was all about her becoming reacquainted with physical intimacy, and he would respect that at every step, if it was the last thing he did.

Remembering her reaction the previous morning to his erection bumping against her, he felt a little trepidation when his cock began to stir, almost wanting to will it to stay the hell down for as long as possible, shifting his hips back a little as their kisses heated up. Lily felt him pull back slightly, correctly guessing why as she began to stroke his chest, fingernails circling at his nipples until the stood pebbled, her nerves bubbling up in her chest as her hand travelled lower, stroking his abs.

‘Come on, you used to be such a sexual creature before all of this, and it’s him, it’s Angel. He’s not going to hurt you. Be brave, girly. Be brave and just touch him.’ The feel of anticipation cording through him, his defined chest falling and rising a little faster as his breathing quickened guided her on, like his body was a map, taking her back again to a place she knew, a location she felt at ease within, her hand lowering until she felt his cock against her fingertips, big, rigid and gorgeous.

Before her brain had chance to rewind to any traumatic memory of what the feel of an erection triggered within her, the groan that poured from his mouth to hers as they shared syrupy kisses edged in embers and honey shook her back to him. The two paths that existed within her forked, the one leading to trauma and the one to sexual pleasure, Angel's response pulling her back toward the correct one. Her hand reached beneath the waistband of his boxers, curling around him, feeling his hips stutter forward, another groan pooling in his throat as she tightened her hand.

“Oh my god.” He whispered, overcome at the feel of her thumb circling over the tip of his cock, a little slick of precum wetting it, his heart thudding wildly as her mouth moved to his neck, wanting to touch her in return, but suddenly feeling nerves over doing such. Did he just lie there and let her get comfortable playing with him, would his own returned explorations of her be too much for her to process all at once?

He didn’t know, all he knew was to feel her hand on him again made him feel like he had a monsoon whirling through his loins, his breathing ragged as she gently tugged at his shaft, blazing fire burning behind his closed eyelids. Fuck, he’d missed her. His abs twitched and his jaw tensed and relaxed as her grip travelled the length of him, thumb swirling at the head, descending again, a sharply drawn breath hitting her deep inside, something sparkling in remembrance at hearing, feeling his arousal, a hollow ache yearning for him to fill it.

God, it was good. A little too good for Angel, though.

Catching her wrist, he halted her, his eyes a burning sea of dark fire as he looked down at her. “Yeah, you’re gonna make me cum if you carry on.”

“Already?” she exclaimed softly, Angel nodding a little bashfully, cringing slightly.

“Mmhmm. I missed you like fuck. But, if you’re okay with it, ain’t nothing stopping me from playing with you.” She bit her lip, her smile widening, her perfect, full lips curling before she pressed them against his, their hot kisses resuming, Angel’s hand reaching around her, stroking her back before flicking her bra clasp undone. He pulled it from her, Lily stopping to assist when her hair tangled in the strap slightly, muttering about needing a haircut. “Nooo, don’t you dare cut it!” he chuckled, hands gliding through her tresses, the feel of her naked breasts against him absolutely celestial.

He turned her onto her back, but his body didn’t follow, wanting her to guide him there herself when she felt ready, edging down the bed slightly as he let his mouth glide in a sumptuous, slow tour of her neck. That mouth then took familiar paths over her chest, following the hands that lead the way, cupping her breasts and squeezing gently as his tongue tasted at the cavern between. She arched against him, a feeling like warm honey trickling through her insides at the heat of his mouth closing over her nipple, a soft whine skimming over her lips, the sound making his insides throb.

She was enjoying it, she was relaxed. Well, so far, but he was scared of any other reaction she might have, hesitant to move south of her waist and test that. She transmitted her need in her movements, though, turning back onto her side, pulling his face level to hers and kissing him with a wanton moan, her leg resting over his hip, his cock skimming where she was becoming needy and soaked, Lily marvelling, breathing a sigh of relief that her body still remembered, still responded. It wasn’t frightened, it was readying itself, doing as it should, not scared into submission.

Her reaction the previous morning, she deduced, was likely because of still being half asleep, startled suddenly, because now, there was no fear of him in an aroused state, only longing. She transmitted that to him, although Angel kept himself firmly in check, his hand slowly drifting down between their bodies, giving her plenty of opportunity to halt him, a shuddered gasp, almost hiccup like in sound fluttering from her throat as his fingers stroked over the damp fabric of her underwear, and she felt herself glimmer. A true, lustful glimmer of want.

They back and forth exchange of kisses paused, Lily breaking her mouth from his to stare at him, his eyes almost black from the width of his pupils, her hands stroking his face, reaching for his shoulders and pulling him atop her as she turned. For a brief second, the weight of a male body atop her made something freeze, just for the briefest of seconds, until his mouth at her neck and whispered words ‘I love you so much’ thawed that chill, her legs winding around him, feeling his hardness pressed to her fully, her fingers gliding down his muscular back.

His kisses descended her again, hands curling around the side of her underwear and pulling them down her thighs, reading her yearning, her body rocking up in a soft rise as she felt him press hot, open-mouthed kisses over her stomach, the muscles beneath bouncing, his hands gently pushing her legs apart, tongue skimming over her hipbone. He caught the scent of her arousal, his cock throbbing, mouth-watering ever so slightly from the memory alone of having her in his mouth, Lily’s breath catching on a soft moan as he kissed her softly from the dip of her hip to her bare pubic bound.

He knew she was eager, but still, he paused, looking up at her, his eyes asking permission, her nod preceding his tongue to delve against her, her thighs shuddering so violently, he did have to wonder.

“Okay?” he questioned, kissing the inside of her thigh in pause. She nodded rapidly, her thighs falling further open, the heat of his mouth returning to her driving a small whine of bliss as she felt his tongue trawl slowly through her folds, dragging a circle over her clit before dipping to her entrance, pushing gently, a grunt echoing his throat to taste how wet she was, dragging those streams of warm nectar back to her clit, her fingers teasing through his dark hair as she keened against him with a soft groan.

With the touch of his mouth, he had turned the place she feared to even touch for weeks, a place of violation, of cold dirtiness and traumatic, razor-edged agony back into a place of warm sublimity, of sacred intimacy, of something she wanted to feel connected to again, as each lick had warm wells of pleasure seeping through her once more. She reached for him, hands smoothing down his solid, bulky arms before returning to his hair, her hips swaying a little as the beat of his tongue drove the coil within her to tighten sharply, her breath hitching in her throat when he sucked on her bud, cheeks hollowing, dark eyes finding hers, winking at her.

Releasing her with a gloopy pop, the tip of his tongue circled at her again, slowly, evoking tingles, her hips shuddering. “You enjoying yourself up there, carina?”

She hummed a moan, smiling. “Very much.”

He laid a soft kiss upon her clit, stroking through the soaking mess of her folds with his thumb, tongue circling her inner thigh. “That’s what I like to hear.” He felt honoured by her reaction, by her bravery to allow him to do this for her, be so close to the place upon her where she’d been so physically traumatised. His admiration for her grew with every passing moment. Some women, he wagered, perhaps wouldn’t be brave enough to allow their lover back for a long, long time, and he was so proud of Lily that she’d gotten there.

Returning his mouth to her, each lick made magma burn through her veins, pleasure skittering through her as a mist of heat ascended her spine, his hands stroking her inner thighs before he brought one to join his mouth, his middle finger gently circling at her opening. He tested, teasing her a little, giving her plenty of chance to tell him no before slowly, he slid it within her.

“Is that okay?”

She was bowled over by his respect towards her, her body, checking with her at every step that was he was doing was acceptable to her. She loved him even more in that moment than she ever had. “Yes, it’s amazing.” she panted, the curl of his finger within her to stroke at her g spot beyond sublime. She closed her eyes, her back arching, a second finger pushing within her, her wail of bliss an absolute feast of beauty for his ears, stroking her walls with a deft glide, laying wet heat over her clit with the flat of his tongue as he did.

He felt her virtually melting around his fingers, the hot current of her arousal making his cock throb, moaning around a mouthful of her as he sucked at her once again, Lily in absolute ecstasy as she cried out, reaching for his arms, pulling him up.

“I need you. I need you right now.” He obliged her, kissing her from her navel to her chest, tongue finding her nipples again and sucking them in turn as his hands bracketed her ribs, sliding down sensuously, his cock nudging at the slick pool, finding its way into her with an effortless glide. Everything was going beautifully, until that moment, the feel of herself stretching around him, her mind flashing back to the alleyway, that first intrusion, her entire body going rigid. He backed off immediately.

“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to...” he fumbled for the words, eyes searching hers as he rested his weight on his forearms and knees, stroking her face. “It’s alright if you’re not ready for anything else.”

“No, I am. I meant what I said, about you being the last man to be inside me. I need that, I need you, Angel,” she assured him, smiling, stroking his face. He shook his head, though.

“Not if it means you’re doing this with fear.”

She sat up beneath him a little, her lips finding his, her hand reaching between them to guide him back to her centre. “I need you, Angel. I need to take back this part of me, so it isn’t theirs any longer.” His cock twitched as she positioning him at her dewy opening, nodding, kissing her as he once again pushed into her, Lily gasping as she was filled... and then there he was. The last man inside of her was the one she loved. The one who would always be welcome there.

Although she knew she could never hit the erase button on what had happened to her, she thought to herself that this wasn’t erasing, it was taping over, replacing what existed with something else, something that had existed before, winding her arms around him as he bottomed out and slid back again, the silky spear of his return evoking a soft cry.

God, he felt so good.

Exchanging soft kisses as they stroked one another, Lily felt truly overcome by the moment, by him, his staggering patience and gentleness with her, panting softly against his mouth as their tongues entwined. Every vein and ridge of his cock felt amazing as it cut through her soaking core, Lily nuzzling him as she moaned, moving her mouth to kiss his neck, her nails making a herd of goosepimples follow their trail as they dragged down his back.

It was just her and him, lost in sensual longing, her body lit up once more, the light and beauty of a billion stars rushing through her, his body pressed to hers, smooth, brown skin crushed against her pale flesh, the designs of their tattoos merging together as they entwined with each other.

Her hands grasped at his butt, pulling him against her. “Faster.” she urged, and he responded, driving into her hard, allowing his need to take over now she had given the permission he needed to hear from her first. “Fuck!” she cursed, his teeth nipping her neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The words left her like a mantra, overcome, burning with pleasure at the stretching of her soft cunt around his hard, wide girth.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He chanted, holding her face in his hands, kissing her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her lips, his mouth coming to kiss her throat as they rocked together in the most magmatic, loving union either had ever experienced.

She was blinded by the passion of him, such raw sensuality, her legs gripped tightly at his sides, her hands touring the chiselled muscles of his back. It was a moment like no other they had ever shared, Angel encompassing her like a cyclone, wrapping her up until all that existed in her world was him, them, that moment of pure, unfiltered, loving sex.

And to think, she had once feared that it would never return to her, that she would never have the ability to once again resume this side of her life with the man who pawed at her with hunger, who rained kisses upon her throat like a hailstorm, his hands reaching beneath her body, gripping her butt, holding her for a second to drive into her sharply before his clench relaxed, but the motions of his hips daggering into her did nothing but escalate.

She was lost to him entirely, little pricks of pleasure melting down her spine as his fingers glided beneath her, over her bones and back around to knead her breasts, his mouth sucking each nipple diligently in turn. He chased each sinful throb around his cock with a harder thrust, intruding into her so deeply, he truly felt one with her. Where he ended and she began was now a map unchartered.

He had her breathless, glimmering, her back arching off the bed as he moved to his knees and pulled her up with him, his hands gliding over her flesh as he bounced her on every last thick, hot inch of his cock, her nails dragging down his back as their shared heated kissed full of need. Lightning began to strike at the base of her spine, ecstasy fizzing through her bones, right through to the very marrow of her as she felt herself teetering, reaching the precipice.

Her thighs trembled, squeezing against his hips, feeling him charging to the same destination, until it was upon them both, a fiery tempest, sweeping them both up as the tingles of release erupted, dragging them under, yet neither had ever ascended with such height before. It was chaotic, steeped in magmatic heat, leaving them breathless, quivering, utterly undone and boneless in the wake of such calamity as they fought to breathe.

Resting her forehead to his shoulder, she felt whole again. In the garden of Angel’s bed, Lily had bloomed. And there wasn’t a thorn in sight.

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