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mygnolia · 3 months

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it’s cupid, stupid! | lhs

୨୧ SYNOPSIS -› To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?

୨୧ PAIR -› golden boy!heeseung x fem-pres!reader

୨୧ GENRE -› fluff, pining, hurt/angst, slow burn (oops), bakery au, summer au, post highschool au | ୨୧ TROPES -› (slightly one sided) enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers | ୨୧ WC -› 20k (jfc)

୨୧ INCLUDES -› CURSING, food mentions, a self indulgent characterization of my grandmother but she’s also everyone else’s in this fic, the bakery has foods from like 40 different cultures, both mc and hee get burned but it’s tiny, heeseung’s parents r lowk overachieving assholes this is NOT a reflection of anyone irl, ew so much banter, heeseung and mc drink from the same straw ik that’s an ick for some LOL, underaged alcohol consumption (and being drunk)…sorry

୨୧ REN SAYS... thank u thank u thank u peng aka @jlheon for beta reading this in one sitting for me!!! your comments were so cute i'm so glad you enjoyed reading it <3

plsplsplspls reblog and send feedback/asks if you liked this!

Lee Heeseung might only have eleven characters to his name, but they spelt trouble in forty different ways.

It starts with the same old Lee Heeseung spilling his applesauce on you in the first grade, with his cup of mushy lukewarm grossness splattered across your new pants with glittery stars on them. You shriek when it happens, frantically wiping off the mess and yelling at his Lightning McQueen lunchbox with all of the bottled up rage a six year old can have. His eyes are wide, but all his friends laugh and say girls are so angry all the time, so he stops himself from apologizing. Which, you think his friends were being a little rude to all girls alike, but what mattered was that Lee Heeseung never ended up saying sorry.

But that’s just one way of spelling it. He hit you in the face with a ball, ran into you when your knee was scraped and you almost were bursting into tears, and tripped you in the lunch line.

Did the universe hate you, or did he?

You figured it was the latter.

Heeseung’s been stuck to you your entire life with some extra strong adhesive that you can’t seem to get off. You wish you could get some of the same glue that stuck you two to the hip and attach his tongue to the nearest streetlight, but things almost never worked in your favor. If you could catch him, just once, like one of the dumb boys who lick frozen poles in winter, you’d be satisfied.

The blackmail would trump any sort of Heeseung related adversity your elementary grade self had to deal with.

Unfortunately, the years have rendered you no protection against him, and in the small victories you find yourself in, you also see Heeseung right next to you. The exam you aced was topped by Heeseung with a 98%, just a bit higher than your 96%, and it couldn’t even feel good to talk about it because you knew all your friends talked about was how he did the best. Better than you.

There was no accomplishment anymore when Heeseung was around.

Heeseung was perfect in everyone’s eyes, a golden boy in their praises and a role model for their parents. If people didn’t want to be with Lee Heeseung, people wanted to be Lee Heeseung. That? That was something you hated. How could people want to be someone who you couldn’t stand?

Summer is a new slate- a very humid new beginning for you to get away from people at school and hang out with only your closest of friends and to ghost any new message you get. That is, if you choose to. Or, you could have an objectively more “hot girl summer” where you go to pools and post pictures on social media and talk about strangers on the internet. Unfortunately, none of those things seemed to be a viable option, with your friends in different countries and in cute swimsuits. Your visits to your grandmother had been so pushed back with all of the finals on top of exams and end of the year festivities that it had been a while since you last saw her. Spending time with her this summer was your number one priority- your friends could wait a few weeks to hang out again.

You spend your first Saturday at her house making pastries with oddly reminiscent spices and a sprinkle of your childhood within every slice. If there’s one person you can trust to stay the same, it’s your dear grandma, with her decade old recipes and hard to find ingredients that she sometimes makes you go on a manhunt for. It’s endearing in a way to know that her cooking will never change, and maybe it’s the reason you make an effort to visit when you can. You love your grandma, and you always have, because she’s the only true constant in a world that’s constantly changing.

You’ve made a feast by the time the sun barely peeks from the edge of the ground. You’ve measured countless spoons of sauces and powdery substances that all look the same and you're surprised the sauce you burned still tastes good. She’s finished setting up the table, and you two can finally dig into your favorite authentic cooking. Even if you see her quite frequently, she doesn’t always cook. Sometimes it’s leftovers, sometimes it’s take-out. But today was different.

After you’ve both finished, your grandma hands you plastic wrapped dishes filled with mere fractions of what you two have made. She tells you to go to the Lee’s down the road, and your eyes narrow slightly. Lee is also the last name of Heeseung. So, what would be the odds it was him?

Not likely. Heeseung would think he’s too cool to live in an area like this. His parents are probably minted- and if not loaded, then well off.

Well, you were 100% wrong! Lee Heeseung does seem to live here, and you will admit the porcelain figures of calico cats in the dark as shapeless silhouettes were a little frightening at first. Your grandma washed away your previous concerns with a “Of course they’ll be home! Heeseung always answers the door for me.” and pushes you out of the house to deliver the two boxes of leftovers that smell delectable. If you weren’t so full, you’d just take a different route and have it for yourself.

You can hear the ‘it’s our neighbor!’ And a pair of footsteps tumbling down the carpeted stairs to answer the doorbell.

Lee fucking Heeseung in his sock and pajama clad glory. How punchable he looked in this very moment, with his warm brown dyed hair and white t-shirt.

“I have leftovers. For your family.” His widened eyes immediately go back to their normal state, and he reaches out to meet your offering halfway.

“You live here?” He asks, in a calm, civil manner that you don’t think you’ve ever seen with him.

“Grandma does- I’m just her errand…runner.” You respond, in a not so smooth way. You wince internally at how choppy your words come out, but make no further effort to fix it. By now, it’s Heeseung who’s holding the styrofoam boxes. Your job is done. “Do you live here?”

He nods solemnly, a smile filled with a smidgen of pride dusted across his features. He loves this house- Heeseung’s been in it his entire life, and it’s obvious the memories that have stayed with him since childhood make him far from ashamed to say it’s where he’s grown up all these years. But you? Could you say the same thing about the simple abode you went home to everyday?

Maybe not. Another reason why Heeseung had it perfect, and another reason to resent him.

You sighed to ease the tension that had condensed between the two of you. His mom wondered what took him so long, and he wondered the same question.

Before you’re about to turn away, he blurts, “Thanks for the food.” You turn around, nodding a silent ‘of course,’ and walking away.

At that very moment, there was no reason to hate Lee Heeseung. But as you walked away and back to your house, you hated the calico cats and the gate you entered through the house he went back inside to.

The nostalgic board game high with your grandma does not last for long. As if the universe needed another reason to hate you, the unfortunate truth was that there was always more in store when you were subjected to a bad day, a bad week, or even a case of bad luck. You come back to the mahogany door to terrible news- your grandmother is sick. You rush out of her house the same day with the names of medicinal cures scribbled on a notecard and an urgency in your step. You buy her enough to last for the next few lifetimes, but it doesn’t matter. Anything healthy you could find in the fresh food aisle, you put in your cart, and when you came home, she was already up and sweeping the cold floors with a cough threatening to overwhelm her.

Sometimes, you wish she didn’t overwork herself. You gently coerce her into laying on the couch, taking some of the medicine you got with a cup of warm water to ease her throat. She says nothing and you expect nothing in return for the last minute shopping you’ve done, but her eyes hold a sincere thankfulness that you know she will never speak aloud. When she’s retired to her bed, you finish unpacking the groceries and complete the mental task of chores your grandma would’ve exerted herself to finish independently. When you’ve finished, your hands are dry with soap and cleaning products, and your arms ache from the mopping, but the house is clean, and your grandma is sleeping well in the other room. You turn off the tv with one of her shows and switch off the light, heading back to your room and changing out of your clothes. By the time you crawl into your bed and charge your phone, the moon is the last thing you remember seeing before you fall asleep.

Monday comes unexpectedly, despite time still being on its course. You find yourself flipping through the cookbooks that littered the walls in your grandmother’s room, and in turn, the absolute urge to busy yourself in her passions manifested in the impulsive decision to work at her bakery.

“Could- could I go work in the shop?”

At first, her rejection was through scowls and furrowed eyebrows wondering why someone like you would want to fill their youthful summer days dusting surfaces with flour and kneading doughs instead of living the dream and swimming in turquoise waters. Her second rejection is easier to register. “I already have Hee helping me.” She states plainly, excusing the idea of two people in one room to run her business. Your nose scrunches up, and the temperature of your blood increases tenfold.

“Heeseung,” she clarifies, with almost too much enthusiasm. “He’s in your grade. Goes to your school, too.” She smiles, brushing a section of hair behind your ear and examining the imperfections on your skin. You frown, the obvious displeasure plastered on your features. It’s not hard to notice you don’t like what she just told you. “You don’t like him?”

“It’s whatever.” You tell her, shrugging away from her gaze and shrinking in on yourself. “I don’t care much for him.”

What a lie! “It seems like you don’t like him.” She comments.

Of course you don’t like him. Heeseung is stuck up, arrogant, and looks past people like you- people who just aren’t as perfect as him. “I mean, why can’t I help you? Shouldn’t Heeseung….rest for the summer?”

“It’s fine- he’s helped me out multiple times anyways.” She concludes, closing the book she was reading previously. “I wouldn’t mind you coming down to help, I’m sure 17 year olds like you and Hee can run things by yourself.” You raise an eyebrow at both of your names mentioned, but don’t speak out against her.

You can run it by yourself, but you won’t, simply because your grandmother seems to have an affinity for some boy you just happen to hate. Plus, if Heeseung messes up, you get all the triple chocolate cake to yourself, so you’ll pray on his downfall until then.

Wednesday morning is when you head over to the bakery, at a much earlier time than usual. The business doesn’t open until at least an hour later, and you spend the time preparing the mixing stands and covering the sweet rolls to be baked in a light sheen of oil. When the sun shines more vibrantly in the morning sky, and the cars honk at the traffic, a ruffled head of hair enters the building, and you’re very worried that you might’ve forgotten to lock the doors. “Sorry, we’re closed!” You yell out, but Lee Heeseung’s tuft of tinted hair is already in your vicinity.

“The real question would be why you’re here, Miss _____.” He glances towards you, curiosity glazing his eyes over. You immediately scowl at his slightly teasing tone, one that could feel even condescending if he pushed that boundary just a bit more. Lee Heeseung might objectively be better than you in the eyes of an average high schooler, but frankly, you were just the same, and he had no right to sound that amused when you woke up and came here first. It’s 8:03am, and you already found just one more reason to hate him.

You roll your eyes, knowing that with your back turned to him, he wouldn’t notice the obvious displeasure. “I can’t help out my grandma?”

It’s so quiet in the place that you hear him suck on a breath behind you. “She’s your grandma?”

“Did you not remember when I dropped off the food? Oh right, you probably wouldn’t spend your time on something so…,” you pause, racking your brain for a word you think he would use. “‘insignificant.’”

Rustling. He takes a bowl and a carton of eggs. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Sorry, it’s just so difficult to believe you’re related to her.” Were you really that detached from your culture, or was Heeseung just mean?

Lee Heeseung’s words get right under your skin, and it makes you see red. You frown in his direction, disregarding his words and moving on with your day. “Yeah, my grandma is nice, I just don’t know why she thinks you’re a saint.”

“She thinks I’m a saint?” And you see something for the first time, something that’s akin to stars in his eyes, and the corner of his lips turn in satisfaction. He doesn’t even comment on how you’ve let it slip that you’re jealous of their relationship.

“Maybe in your dreams.”

“You just said-“

You feel like two cats about the fight behind a dumpster, before the door jingles, and someone walks into your conversation with Heeseung.

“Sorry, is the shop not-?”

You rush to the counter before Heeseung does, counting it as a mental victory to take the first order.

“It is! What would you like?” It’s something else you can tell your grandma when you get home- that you’ve been starting off all the work in the bakery, and you’re ‘not sure what Heeseung really does.’

The professionalism masks the irritation on his features, and you would’ve killed to see Lee Heeseung’s frown once more.

When the customer is done telling you his order, you make sure he gets everything he needs, fully satisfied before the ring of the door is heard once more during his departure. The corner of your lip turns up into a grin, victorious as you childishly tease your co-worker.

“I’m going to do the most around here, and I don’t need your pretty face getting in the way of things.”

While he denies the rest, Heeseung doesn’t quite ignore what you said about his features.

When noon has passed, but the sun still glares down on everyone outside, you work just as hard as the white ceiling fan providing cool air for everyone inside. You work in silence, with a playlist filling the air and adding to the ambience, as you listen to your own music through your headphones. Heeseung works without interacting with you more than what needs to be done, and rarely asks for help. He doesn’t let people down; if anything, he exceeds their expectations, but never yours. It’s been like this since the beginning, and you’re convinced it’s something personal- some wrangle ever since you two learned what cooties were that lasted until now.

“____,” He starts, turning to you. You glance at him, waiting for the boy to continue. “Can you make the brown sugar milk tea- it’s on the-“

“I know where it is.” You snip.

Heeseung makes the right choice (in your opinion) to say nothing as you proceed to grab a cup and open the container of boba pearls. After you’ve taken a few orders, you move to the back of the bakery to pull the tray of matcha sheet cake onto the counter to cool.

“Have you seen the scissors?” Heeseung asks out of nowhere, startling you from the doorway.

Reaching for the ones you used to cut the parchment paper with, you hand the pair to him and with a mumbled ‘thank you,’ he makes his leave.

In an odd way, you’re stunned by the silence that follows. A “you suck, _____!” would be more in character for villainous Lee Heeseung than whatever just happened. But you’re way too occupied with the bakery, and go back to cutting squares in the matcha cake.

It’s the same for the next hour until the rush ends and you get a bit more time to yourselves between orders. Heeseung agrees to wash the dishes and you clean the tables to the sound of your playlist from the speakers.

“You have good music taste.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he emerges. He wipes his hand on a white towel and you stare at him, utterly puzzled. Where’s the malice? Where’s his snarky comments?

“I’m waiting for you to tell me it’s not as good as yours, or something along those lines.” You deadpan.

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “I’m not that mean, I can give a compliment or two when I feel like it.”

“Oh, poor Lee Heeseung only has so much room in his heart to compliment people. How thankful should I be that you spend your daily supply of niceness on me?” You snap, cleaning off the tables. Your chest feels light and you don’t feel as angry as you did this morning, finding your digs to be more playful that serious

Blame it on the lack of sleep.

“I think you should be bowing down to me and only talking when I tell you to.” He jokes, and when you glance up, there’s a semblance of a smile on his face. “Anyways, when are you leaving?”

“Whenever you leave.” You tell him, shrugging.

“Your grandma said she didn’t want you to stay too late but she also wanted me to take you home, and I think she’d throw a fit if you didn’t. You were dropped off this morning, right?”

“I’d die before getting into a car with you, Lee Heeseung.”

“If I had to get into a car with you, that’s probably how I’d die.” He responds lightly. You furrow your eyebrows and rack your brain for some sort of retort that hurts Heeseung’s pride, but nothing comes up.

“My driving skills are very good, I’ll have you know.”

He jabs, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“How about, next time you come, you leave with your bumper falling off? Some bad driving, yeah?”

Heeseung could start feeling dizzy if his eyes continue to roll around in his skull. “Sure, we’ll see what your insurance has to say about that.”

The aroma of vanilla slips through the air, and momentarily distracts you as you make haste to get it from the ringing oven. Unfortunately, your enthusiasm spills over the rim, and when reaching inside, you feel the burn of the sheet cake as you leave it on the iron rack to cool. Heeseung doesn’t tear his eyes from the way you jump back, squeezing the tender skin between your fingers as you blow on it in puffs.

“Are you okay? Here-“ He reaches for your hand, but gentle. “Let me see that.” Heeseung soothes the slight pain with his thumb running over the burn, and his breath cooling it down slowly.

“I’m fine.” You tell him, slowly pulling your finger away. His gaze snaps back up at you, and you feel your disdain for him dwindle ever so slightly. Maybe the Heeseung that rushed to make sure you were okay isn’t so bad.

“Right. You’ll be fine.” And he doesn’t know if it’s something he tells himself, or if he’s telling you, when he goes to get some ointment.

“A grad party? With Heeseung? Invited?”

You can’t see him, but you almost hear Sunoo’s pout from the line. “Yeah, I don’t even know why you two fight anyways.”

You huff, laying back down on your bed after Sunoo’s confession made you shoot up in surprise. “Have you seen him? He’s the most stuck-up annoying person ever.”

Your friend hums. “To be honest, I don’t think you really know him.”

“I know him plenty. And there’s nothing good about him, like, ever!”

“You barely even talk to him, ____.” The last week proves differently, but you bite your tongue.

“I talk to him enough!” You’d defend yourself until the end of the earth. “He’s just…always around me- not like I even want him to, or he’s always hanging out with my friends, or-“

“Our friends.”

“Well, not really.” You think hard. “They’re only friends because you and I are friends, so I’m friends with Heeseung in a distant obligatory way. And I need to keep it that way by not coming to this party.”

“Come on!” Sunoo whines from the phone, and you laugh at his antics. “It’s a grad party, you’ll be too busy talking with everyone else to care anyways.”

“Well, maybe for a bit.”

“When’s the next time we’ll even be able to see each other anyways? Considering all of this college stuff.”

You break his facade. “We’re literally going swimming in two weeks from now.” Sunoo laughs. “No, ____. Swimming is different from eating snacks and playing dumb board games.”

He’s right, and you admit that it’ll be fun for something once last time.

Maybe Heeseung won’t even show up.

The next day at the bakery, you rush to ask him, almost too eager to know his answer. “Are you going to Sunoo’s party?” Please say no please please please-

“Of course. I’m his friend. You weren’t invited, or something?” His tone makes you want to light a fire on his head.

“I’m his friend, too. I was the first person he talked to about it, so of course I was invited, and of course I’m going.” You say it as if the boy in front of you didn’t make you single handedly question your attendance last night. You say it like your demeanor never faltered, not even once. You say it like Heeseung had no say in the decision.

Because he definitely didn’t.

“I’ll see you there, then.” He smiles at you, a glint of evil in his eyes as he gauges your reaction. You return his scheming grin, frosting a slice of cake before walking out and calling the order number. When Heeseung emerges from the paper white curtains, he sees you engrossed in helping a customer pick out a few of the best options for ‘something not so sweet.’

When you’re done, you turn around to take a sip of your iced tea. “Really?” He starts, stirring some milk into a swirling shot of espresso. “The red bean cake is your definition of not too sweet?” Your ear-to-ear smile falls when you hear the off-handed comment from Heeseung, leaning against the counter with his taro milk tea, with close to no sugar.

“I’m sure if they asked you, they would’ve walked out with a cake that tastes like a sponge.” You retaliate. You do your best not to look so affected, seeing as there were other people in the vicinity. It’s a bakery, you have to keep up the comforting atmosphere.

“I don’t really think you’re the best person to offer advice for those kinds of things, unfortunately.” His tone snips at your resolve, and with every passing moment you stare at his lips and listen to his words, the more you wish to sew them together.

“Sure, and they’ll be satisfied with eating basically paper? Your standards are also a little far-fetched.” You busy yourself with cleaning the cups and bowls from this morning, physically turning away from him.

He walks past you and into the kitchen, but not before saying, “I’m sorry one of us has good taste.”

You pray to every being that someone keeps Heeseung from speaking another insufferable word.

Sunoo’s house is as quaint as you remember, and although you don’t find yourself making the resemblance often, it suits him. With one hand occupied with holding a gift, and the other about to press the doorbell, you’re interrupted by an all too familiar voice.

“I guess you did show up. Sucks to see my dreams didn’t come true.”

“I will throw this at you.” You motion to the neat basket in your hands.

Heeseung sighs dramatically, before continuing in the same feigned tone. “Would be a shame if Sunoo only had one gift from us.”

“He’d understand.” You turn around to ring the doorbell, and Sunoo emerges, a bright smile on his face. He greets the both of you, and his quick side hug immediately reminds you of why you’re here.

You will have a good time. And you won’t let any auburn haired boy ruin that.

Despite being close to Sunoo, you’re not as close to the rest of his friends. He keeps his circle small, only with people he spends time with regularly. Which would be good for any other day, but for today, you feel almost like an outsider. Sunoo’s group of friends greet you all the same, and shower the boy behind you with affection. When you walk towards the kitchen, you catch some more of your mutual friends, and your nerves slowly ease away. You join their ongoing card game, an observer to it all as they yell in success or defeat.

The group of people playing Taboo suddenly doubles as the six of Sunoo’s friends decide they want in. With the way you move to the floor, you’re so preoccupied with making sure there’s enough space for everyone and that all the cards are there, that you don’t realize where you’re sitting.

Cross legged, on the ground, next to Lee Heeseung.

You can’t get up, and you weakly protest against the many thoughts telling you that a game of Taboo with Lee Heeseung would get you so heated that everyone would see steam out of your ears by the end of the first round.

“You know how to play?” Yuna starts to thumb through the cards, making sure all of them are placed in the right orientation. While the majority of you guys nod, a few of them shake their heads, and it prompts a quick explanation from Ryujin.

“So, everyone gets a set of cards in a team of 3, and you have to describe it without using the words in the white box below. So for example, if my word is Vanilla, I can’t use the words bean, flavor, ice cream, extract, or chocolate.” She shows everyone the example card, and you all nod your heads. “Okay, now we divide into teams!” You tune out the rest of her words as she divides you all into sections based on where you’re sitting, and it leaves you with a twisting feeling.

“Blue will be ____, Heeseung, and Jungwon!”

Truly, was luck ever on your side?

You don’t have time to ponder just how horrible things are going, because Jungwon’s excitedly pulling you two close into a circle to discuss game plans.

“Okay, just skip the cards you can’t answer, think about references rather than actual descriptions. Guys, the prize is good, Sunoo told me.” And the need to win anything reignites in your eyes, determination being your main motivation.

Jake, Sunghoon, and Yuna go first, and guess four cards correctly. You feel the excitement coursing through the air like electricity, as everyone’s competitive spirit shows through.

It’s finally your turn, and you volunteer to be the describer, picking up the cards with anticipation. You share a look with Heeseung and Jungwon, praying they share your wave of telepathy.

First word- Engine.

You scan through the words you’re not allowed to use, Jake watching over as your referee in case you slip up.

“Okay, it’s the thing in the-“ You’re about to say car, but you pause, quickly trying to reevaluate your descriptions. The timer looms, and you feel panic settle in. “The thing that powers the…vroom vroom.”

In Jungwon’s head, it clicks. “Engine!” You toss the card, reading the next. Egypt?

“It’s a 3D thing, but it has three sides in north Africa.”

“Pyramids.” Heeseung answers smoothly.

You grin unknowingly. “Right-right, okay. Where is it?”

“Egypt.”

“This is a Jesus related celebration-“ You continue, glancing at the hourglass as the sand slips through.

“Easter!” Jungwon says. “Christmas!”

“The second one! It’s one of the little things you… put up!”

“Stockings!” And you shake your head at Jungwon, goading them to think a bit more and guess. You glance up almost sheepishly, at a loss of words and stumbling over thoughts. Heeseung sighs, leaning back before looking at you again.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” You huff, flicking at the card anxiously.

“Like what? Like you can’t describe a simple word?”

“Oh, as if you could-“

“Ornament!” And with that, the timer ends. You glare at Heeseung, hard, and if you were anything like Superman, you really would’ve burned holes through his skull. Thankfully, with Jungwon was your mediator, you don’t say anything snarky back at him, staying silent as the other groups go.

The first round tension eases as the night carries on. As Jake and Sunghoon score 7 cards in one round, it prompts you, Heeseung, and Jungwon to come together, a jittery feeling as you sip from a can of soda and pray your brain works in tandem with both of them.

Remembering Heeseung’s your describer, you sink in your seat a little, feeling hopelessness consume your mind- but Jungwon doesn’t let you sulk as he cheers Heeseung on. “Last round!” He says, a sparkle in his eye. The teams are so close, and despite your team having the lowest points by being the last group to go, you know you can score the 6 points needed to beat Ni-ki, Ryujin, and Sunoo.

The hourglass is flipped, and you hold your breath.

“Naturally occuring formation,” he says smoothly, glancing at you and Jungwon. “Hot stuff.”

It clicks. “Volcano!” Jungwon smiles, feeling victory running through his veins. Heeseung’s lip curls up.

“It’s the saying with too many people, ‘three’s a..” He waits for you both to finish the line.

“Crowd!” Heeseung and you smile at each other as he continues to rush through the cards, briefly glancing over to the timer.

He falters slightly, before lighting up. “When you’re excited, you’re on ____ 9.” You finish it quickly, burning holes into the back of his cards before he continues. You have to win.

“Jungwon, we played this game in 2020 on Discord with the guys!”

“Among Us.” and you laugh at the references he makes to win.

“____, it’s the 60% thing you like at the bakery.”

Your breath hitches, and you almost forget to answer until you see the way he’s looking at you.

“Chocolate.” You mumble, and he cracks a grin again, relieved to get it in only four seconds.

With the way he looks at the words and furrows his eyes, you worry that the sand will slip through the hourglass completely before he can finish explaining the sixth and final word.

Heeseung chooses to deviate from the normal meaning of the words, and chooses to use a different meaning of it in order to not risk using a word on his unavailable list. “When something is more spicy than you expect, you say it has a little something to it.”

Your heart is beating wildly, and you’re barely in the same spot as you were when you first started, leaning over and closer to Heeseung’s curly fringe. “Kick!” you yell out, and the room explodes in commotion, carefully counting the tallies under every team name. Yeji sighs as she marks down your final tally, and you stand up, all in a group hug before you even realize it. You watch Heeseung, looking up at the way his eyes are closed and his smile’s wide. The adrenaline keeps you jumping with your partners, unaware of how Sunoo observes the carefree way you cling onto his friend, and the supposed bane of your existence. When you two finally stop cheering at your long awaited victory, you shoot Heeseung a glance, noticing how he’s already looking at you with the same gears turning in his head. Although you’ve created space, he’s zoned out, and you can tell he hasn’t noticed that you two once again make eye contact. It takes a raised eyebrow from you for him to look elsewhere, absentmindedly tonguing the inside of his cheek, feeling almost embarrassed to have been so close.

There’s a bubbling feeling in your stomach whenever you think about how he remembered- how Lee Heeseung pays attention to the little things. You push it down, because it’s nothing more than what coworkers do for each other. He’s cordial, as always. That’s all it is.

“Didn’t seem like you hated Heeseung much.” Sunoo comments, a smile puffing up his cheeks. You roll your eyes, helping him pick up some of the stray trash from the floor after the party is over.

“Don’t even!’ You start, debating if you should throw a Dorito in his face. “It’s just for the games, he was literally insufferable every other minute.”

Sunoo is unfortunately the victim to your back-and-forth, trying for you to see with reason but falling short to your simple petty nature. He fails to see how Heeseung has treated you, but deep down, you see it. You see the occasional stare Heeseung finds himself in with you, the frown on his features or the way he always carries himself as if he’s somehow better than you. It’s exasperating how easily he surpasses you, and always glances back to make sure you know. The looks he gives you are deceptive, and you basically see his thoughts laid out in front of him before he turns away. You swear to Sunoo that he has it out for you, always trying to boost that inflated ego of his by showing you how much better he is at anything.

“How are you so sure Heeseung just wants to rub it all in your face? Well, wait.” He pauses, tying a trash bag closed. “Why do you look at him so much that you catch him staring?”

Oh. You think about it, truly emptying your brain to find a proper answer, but deep down, there was none to be found.

“I don’t know, Sunoo,” you huff. “He just always looks at me.”

“Maybe he wants to be friends.”

Violently shaking your head, you smash in a water bottle, feeling a flash of confusion pass through you. “Why would he want to be friends with me? To show he’s such a nice and caring person?” The boy on the receiving end sighs, slumping to the floor in the kitchen. You stare at him, watching how Sunoo deflates before going to wash his hands in the sink. “You’re insufferable.” He calls out, laughing quietly.

A frown makes its way onto your features unknowingly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you truly put yourself in your friend’s shoes.

Surely, Sunoo sees what you mean, right? There’s just no way Heeseung would want to be friends with you either- it’s not like you treat him any better than he treats you. Plus, Heeseung has had it out for you, always by your side for the best and for the worst times, somehow dampening your mood in both.

Right?

After a tight hug from Sunoo and your efforts to lift his mood after a long day, you get in your car, a random song from your playlist coursing through the stuffy air.

There is mutual hatred- well, maybe not hatred, but dislike. A definite dislike between you and some part time bakery employee who also happens to be the worst boy you’ve ever met.

You’re beginning to think that this feud between you two is a small flame that you’re shoveling piles of wood into, igniting from your own hands.

You have no idea how to prove it, though. You can’t let yourself look like an idiot by simply being nice to him if he really has it out for you and hates you- or else he’ll get some sort of upper hand.

Your plan goes like this; You’ll give Lee Heeseung one chance to prove himself as an arrogant and selfish person, and when it happens, it’ll be true solid evidence you have to dislike him. It’ll prove that Lee Heeseung hasn’t changed one bit, and that you were always right in your beliefs.

You trust the universe will help you out one time, and pray for the best.

So that’s why, when your grandmother invites you to join her at the Lee’s once again, you agree, finally getting to try not just the leftovers of Mrs. Lee’s delicious galbi recipe.

And that’s how you're standing in front of his doorstep with a welcome mat under your feet, and a porcelain cat staring up at you from the porch.

You hear the commotion that follows your knock, and you're greeted with a warm smile from whom you can only assume is Heeseung’s mother. After she invites you in, you meet the rest of the family, and make sure your grandmother has taken a seat. Heeseung glances at you from the stairs, before wordlessly joining the table, quickly grabbing bowls in the kitchen before coming to sit down. Everyone interacts, and you’re stuck smiling and shaking hands with his father and bowing to his grandmother, asking if there’s anything you can do to help.

When his mother brings the steaming aromatic food over, your eyes light up. “Here, Heeseung, sit next to ____!”

Your smile drops.

He takes the empty seat next to you, flashing you a grin. “Long time no see.” You roll your eyes, with the distance between the two of you closer than ever, you lean over to make sure your grandma gets plenty of cabbage kim-chi and warm sauces with her rice, helping her whenever necessary. By the time you sit back down, your bowl already is full of food. You glance over at the culprit.

Heeseung just shrugs when you raise an eyebrow, muttering a thank you before digging in.

“I hear you’re planning to attend the same university as Heeseung.” His mother’s words cause your eyes to widen, choking slightly on your bite before you feel someone’s hand on your back. “You okay, ____?” And the mirth in his eyes tells you he finds your reaction funny.

You shake your head in earnest, feeling yourself lose even more passion for school. She continues, reaching for some grilled meats with her chopsticks. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? You two are basically neighbors, and you’re always super hard working. Maybe Heeseung could learn a thing or two, since I hear so much about how you help out your grandma.”

You’re pleased to hear she likes you, but it all comes out at once, and her confessions leave you in surprise. You glance over at the boy next to you, hoping to gain some wicked satisfaction from it all, but what you see leaves you with a dejected look. Heeseung’s gaze is steely, and you notice the almost glare his mom sends her son after saying it. He feels small, unlike the confidence that surrounds him after test scores or when he got admitted into his colleges. Something doesn’t feel right, and it leaves a sour feeling on your tongue when you try to make yourself bigger than him.

“Heeseung has always done well. I’m sure he’ll continue to do well both at the bakery and in school.” You don’t mean to disagree with her, but it’s true. You hate to admit it, at least to his face, but Heeseung’s worked just as hard or harder than everyone else. He tilts his head in confusion as to why you’d voice something like that, and you roll your eyes, hoping that he never brings it up again.

You continue to talk with his mother, laughing at her comments and going along with whatever she has to say, no matter how traditional her views might be. You thank her profusely for the meal, and she waves you off with a bashful look. ‘It’s nothing,’ she communicates through her laughs and small hug when you two are about to leave.

“See!” Your grandma says on the walk back, as you carry tupperware of marinated meats and soup. “Hee isn’t so bad after all.”

“I guess.” You really have nothing else to tell her, not wanting to ruin the delicate moments between you two as the sun casts down a slim glow. “He didn’t really say much.”

His mom, however, made you realize just why Heeseung performs at the standard he does- because he really has no choice but to be the best, or to accept failure in front of his parents’ eyes. It’s a corrosive treatment, one that slowly digs away at anyone’s ability to be passionate about truly anything.

She changes the subject. “How’s the bakery?”

You want to tell her that Heeseung is annoying, that he runs around always telling you to do things, that he’s always too busy covered in flour and coconut cream to help you out. You want to tell her that you hate Heeseung, and that your quality of life decreases whenever he’s around. He messes with you, sends jokes and digs your way, and you don’t know how to get him out of there faster.

“Heeseung’s fine. I know he’s a big help to you.” And maybe, he’s become a big help to you, too.

There is one thing you’re not sure you can perfect- macarons.

They’re dumb, take so little ingredients yet such precision- and to be honest, do they even taste that good? In your personal opinion, they’re nothing amazing, and honestly, the scraps of chocolate cake that you don’t use for cake pops serves you well.

The night before, you and Heeseung both mutually agreed to stay for a bit longer, starting on the macarons so neither of you would mess up tomorrow morning in a rush. It’s a large order, and you get them relatively often. You try to get tips from your grandmother the night before that, writing them down in your phone and making sure you listen to every piece of advice she says. You write down the last thing in your notes, ominously typed out in bold text. “don’t overdo it.” it reads, and you stay up watching videos on how other people make them look so perfect.

Staying late for the shift meant you shifted your routine by a few hours- showering later, eating a bit later, and sleeping less than you should’ve. You were tired already, but the extra work only added to it, making you feel less and less confident in every piped macaron.

The alarm reads 8:00am, a criminally late hour if you want to get to work on time. Sending a quick apologetic text to your coworker, you rush out of the house, driving as carefully as you can to make it there while scraping as much time off as you can. Rushing in, you see Heeseung, leaning over and assessing your yellow batch. If the grid you used was supposed to be a 5 by 11 sheet, then there should be 55 macarons- but you notice, in a few places, there are missing confections.

One culprit. “How childish do you have to be to eat the ones I’ve made?” The immediate accusation has Heeseung looking up at you, straightening his back to narrow his eyes.

“Some of your macarons were hollow shelled.”

“What, so you go and throw them away without even asking me?”

Heeseung hates how the mood is immediately dampened, finding himself getting more heated around you. “We literally need 25 of each- only four of yours were hollow- I had to start making another batch because I didn’t want to risk mine being hollow, too.” He tries to explain, tapping his fingers on the counter. Your skin feels hot- how dare he mess with the batch you already worked so hard to pipe and fold? If you were to fish out the shells from the trash right now, you would be positive that they weren’t even that empty. You grab one of the tools from near the sink, going to inspect his red ones.

His attempt to make himself look human is shattered when you notice that none of his, are in fact, hollow like how he presumes they were.

“You didn’t even check yours!” You exclaim, feeling targeted.

He rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t even matter who’s batch it was- why do you care so much that I was trying to help you out because you were late today?”

That- that was your reason. Lee Heeseung once again spelt trouble, by meddling in your macarons when you could’ve so easily examined them yourself. He turns around to start washing the utensils in the sink, as you stand there and seethe. Blame it on the sleep, or on the stress of rushing out this morning, but all of it makes you walk out of the building, feeling the hot tears fill your waterline before they spill and cascade down your skin.

You worked so hard to make them- and even if they weren’t perfect, even if what he had to say was right, you just wished you could’ve seen it for yourself. You haven’t worked there much prior to the summer, and macarons have always been something you’ve wanted to nail, so to see Heeseung set the standard according to his own feelings and just throw out the ones you wanted to see- well, it hurts. It’s a jab at your pride, at all the effort you’ve put into learning and watching videos, sacrificing sleep to listen to people croak advice after advice on one of the greatest baking feats. It hurts to see once again that you’ve failed to be like Heeseung, and that he took matters into his own hands by assessing your tray for you

Fishing out your phone, you look for one contact to offer comfort. “Grandma?” You ask, sinking down to rest your head on your knees without sitting on the cement. You’re next to your car, not wanting to go through the efforts of finding your keys.

“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately after hearing your sniffle, and you tell her. You tell her about how your shells were uneven, and how you worked so hard for them, and how Heeseung threw them away before you could even see for yourself. She understands your pain, and tells you that no one can perfect something as difficult as macarons- and that during spring break, she had seen Heeseung go through the same thing. It helps, just a little, to know that he started from the same place as you, too. You calm down with her further reassurance, and wipe your puffy eyes before coming back in. You’re afraid the patrons will notice something’s up, and ignore Heeseung’s worried looks to pat cold water onto your eyelids in hopes of helping them look less red.

He sees all of it- Heeseung Isn't stupid, he knows what he’s done, but he can’t get himself to apologize. And as you knew, he went through the same heartbreaking process, and in his thorough reassessment of the situation, he doesn’t know why he didn’t see it from your perspective until you stormed out.

‘I'm sorry,’ he writes on the bag of lemon curd he made for your macarons. But it does little to salvage your disposition for today. You ignore him, never asking for any help, or any opinion even in the times you usually would. It’s quiet throughout the whole day, like a gray cloud has dampened the colors in the sky, and you clock out at exactly the right time after everything is done, put away, and cleaned. you refuse to leave a mess for Heeseung to point out, but you leave feeling angry, sad, but mostly, disappointed.

The next day, you arrive at the bakery to find Heeseung sipping from a dangerously large cup of instant boba and taro milk. His eyes dart up to witness all of your struggling glory carrying a shipment that came to the house instead of the shop. In a hurry, he grabs a few boxes from the top and sets them down on the counter, and whatever you were carrying follows suit. He treats you as if you didn’t fight, as if you two aren’t filling the room with tension the more you steal glances at each other. He grabs his drink, one that he’s prepared 15 minutes ago, and finishes almost another quarter of it in one long sip.

You want to tease him for how much taro he’s had when it’s barely 8 o’clock, but it’s not the right time. Days like this are always slow, only dragged out longer by the silence and lack of tasks. The awkward silence between you two fuels him to grab scissors and start opening the boxes.

“I thought your grandma might’ve told you I could handle it.” Heeseung comments, refilling the crushed water and oreo toppings. “I was checking the delivery updates pretty often.”

“Not often enough,” you snap. You fight back a glare, and proceed to open up your own box of extracts. “I’m her granddaughter. Maybe you should go enjoy summer with your friends. Don’t you have a beach trip to thirst trap at or something?” It’s meant to be an insult, but Heeseung quietly chuckles, finding it a little funny.

“Yes, we are having a beach trip soon. But i already told your grandma I’ll work in the morning before your aunt comes to take over.” You frown, wondering why your grandma never reaches out to you and asks you to help.

With emphasis on the syllables in his name, you fire back, “Let’s be clear, Heeseung, she wants my help much more than she needs yours.” He glares, stirring a cup with his eyebrows furrowed and lips curled down in distaste.

“I’m sure that’s why she was so enthusiastic about coming over to our house and talking to me.” It’s your turn to scowl, and you’re afraid Heeseung’s comments will only take years off your life and produce wrinkles on your face much quicker.

“Funnily enough, I heard she didn’t want you working there at all.” You cross your arms to look at him as a way to further your point.

He responds defensively. “Yeah. as if.” Even the way Heeseung rolls his eyes at you is annoying. “She just wants me around more than you.”

You can’t feel offended, especially when his tone is so light. It probably isn’t even true- how much your grandmother prefers Lee Heeseung over you, just like anyone else. The feeling burns you and you shrink away from the heat of the sudden fire accompanied by the implications of his words. Heeseung catches on to the sudden shift in your demeanor.

“Hey, I didn’t mean that.” He tries to apologize, watching you carefully.

The flames leave you angry with his response, feeling once again belittled by him. “Bullshit. Are you glad you’re the favorite for every single person you know?”

His eyebrows furrow, feeling the bite of your words, and the mood instantly changes. “That’s not what I meant, ____.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course that’s not what you meant, Heeseung. Of course you’re the one who’s perfect, and I’m simply the one who misinterprets all of it. Of course you have never had a bad intention ever and you are loved by everyone. Why can’t you just go? Do you really have to take one more thing away from me and make it your own?” The years of resentment pile up in the words you throw at him, and the built up wall you’ve created finally shows just why you should despise him so much. “Or was it not your intention to do that either?”

It’s too early, to be honest, to be fighting like this, and you’re definitely saying things that you’re going to regret. But you’re tired of being second to him- tired of never getting the recognition you so badly deserved from those who you actually wanted to hear it from. You’re tired of never being heard by your teachers, getting grades that swoop right under a certain someone’s. All on purpose. (right?)

Despite the sudden urge to bicker with you about how you think everything is about you, and how you’ve never given him a chance, the boy beside you is observant to how hurt you sound being so vulnerable. Heeseung finds himself trying to rethink the past ten years of shared childhood experiences. He’s never really thought about what he’s done to deserve such resentment from you, but the more he says silent, the more he realizes that he’s always so graciously soaked up praise from everyone, and because of it, you were always left sulking in his shadow.

“I’m sorry.” But it’s more than that.

You feel stupid for expecting anything deeper. “Is that all you have to-“

He cuts you off, trying to articulate the words and form reason. “No, there’s more. God- let me just think.” You hear how badly he needs to get it out, and you stay quiet, having let all of your anger out already.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m not going to apologize for all of the things I’ve achieved,” he says firmly. “Because that’s never how things were for me- I have no reason to feel bad about what I did.” And you can respect him for standing his ground in a situation full of misunderstanding. “I never did it to hurt you, and I never did it to get in your face and show I was better. But I’m sorry for hurting you unintentionally. I’m sorry I never realized that those things were just as important to you, and I’m sorry for always assuming the worst when we’d talk. I’m sorry I never apologized, and held all of this against you, and made this thing between us worse than it was supposed to be. And, I’m sorry, too, about the macarons. That was stupid. I really should’ve known.”

You feel overwhelmed, your mind trying to undo the years of built up feelings towards him under the assumption that he meant to do those things. “I thought you did it because you genuinely didn’t want to see me happy. Like that time you did the extra credit in biology just so you could score better than me.” You breathe, words coming out without really realizing what you’re saying. “Or like that time in first grade where you spilled your applesauce on me, and never apologized. I kept thinking, what the fuck did I do to deserve it? What had I done to make you feel like we had to compete?” Your open ended questions continue to resonate within your co-worker’s mind, and the more you ramble, the more he sees just how twisted he looks.

“In first grade, that was because the boys said I’d get cooties if I went to talk to you. Believe me, ____, I tried. But every single time I try to fix things between us, you never let me, I swear.”

It’s your turn to be confused, swearing that you never saw him apologize. “When have you ever tried to be nice to me?”

“I tried to let stuff go. Like all the little things we’d say about each other- I tried to understand why you were always so unhappy around me. But you always said I was meddling in your business or that I just wanted to find another way to get under your skin.”

It settles, then, the realization that you’ve turned him into the villain a bit more than you should’ve. You know there’s always been mutual dislike- there are certain times where you know Heeseung had it out for you, with his sneers, his comments or the way he’d smile at your defeat- but you weren’t a saint either. There were other times that maybe, he wasn’t out to get you, but you were always so consumed with the idea of hating Lee Heeseung that you hated the idea of him being a decent person, too.

“I’m sorry,” You say, leaving your emotions to witness. “I really should’ve paid attention to your genuine efforts back then, too.”

And you’re not the only one who’s at a loss for words this time. Heeseung is in uncharted territory, unsure of how to process the way you’re apologizing, and being so open. And he’s antagonized you too; made you out to be a mood killer and party pooper in every event imaginable, despising the idea of being around you because you two always disagree somehow.

“But, why do you do it? Why do you come here if it’s really anything personal?”

He answers in the only way he sees fit. “I want to help her out, she’s always cooked for our family, she’s let me come over a few times, just little things for my family and I. I never meant to take your grandma away from you like that, I promise. She’s just so kind, and she cares so much about me, so of course I want to care for her, too. I just didn’t think it’d be at the expense of you.”

Despite still feeling hurt, you nod, trying to be mature and talking about it rather than burying it deep. “All I hear about is how she wants you to come, and how she never needs my help anymore because she has you already volunteering. It’s like I barely mean anything to her.” Your words sting for Heeseung, but not because there’s any anger directed at him. Heeseung feels a pang of relatability in his chest, the inability to ever be enough for those around you gnawing away at your self-esteem.

He shakes his head, begging you silently to understand. “She doesn’t want you to work so hard.” He starts, running a hand through his hair. “She tells me about how she’s worried if you’re eating, or if you’re stressed. She’s watched you through-out your whole life, ____. All she’s ever wanted was for you to finally enjoy the summer you worked so hard for.”

“I just wish it felt that way.” You admit.

To hear such high praise from his lips feels foreign- the idea of Lee Heeseung noticing how hard you’ve worked, realizing the amount of effort you’ve put into your standing and accomplishments, it’s weird. You know he understands completely how stressful it’s all been, considering he was stuck to your side the whole time in highschool whether you liked it or not. Lee Heeseung has worked hard, if not harder, than you, and for him to be able to admit that is so much different than what your perception of him would think. It’s awkward to meet his gaze, and his small smile eases the tension a little when you laugh at his attempt to soothe things out.

“I feel dumb, for thinking so horribly of you. I honestly never thought you looked at me like I was an equal, just someone you could surpass.” He shakes his head, about to reach out and grab your wrist before he realizes just how intimate it would be.

“You’re not dumb, _____. You never have been. I’ve always looked up to you.”

There are knots in your chest- the ones that make it feel as tight and hard to breathe as you do right now- that slowly become untangled the more he speaks of you. His words undo them, little by little, and even if it takes a long time to fix the rift between you two, at least you know you have help.

Internally, your heart begs you to ask. “Why do you even care?”

He pauses, mulling over his words, and looking for a proper response. “I don’t know.” He sighs. “I just want to, we’ve been around each other since we were kids, and if there was someone who I’d hope to have by my side, whether or not we’re close, it was you.”

Your breath hitches at his confession, and your mind runs in a hundred different directions, without ever expecting those words to tumble from his lips. You promise yourself to do things differently from now on, not trusting your words to continue the conversation.

“We should finish unpacking.” And the rest is that.

When you two leave to go home, the old tension feels different- lighter, almost. As much as you know he would do things to get on your nerves, never understanding just why you were so negative and brooding around him, your perception of him wasn’t the best, either. And still, you may be a bit mad at him, and not exactly friendly, but at least you’ve both let go of the unspoken baggage.

When you sit in the passenger seat, you’re less inclined to turn away and face the window, and make small talk with the radio on.

Things aren’t perfect- the years of hurt he’s done to you doesn’t dissipate in a day, but it’s getting better, and you can only hope it continues that way.

A week passes between the two of you, and time flows easier now that you two talked things out. You don’t dread going to work, and you didn’t refuse when he offered to buy food on the way home a few days ago. Sure, some topics between you two are sore, and you’re not best of friends, but it’s light years ahead of what it was like before.

You can never truly get rid of the banter between you two- there are clever insults you’ve crafted in your head that you love to see his reaction to, and you’re just the right person for Heeseung to bicker with.

“Do you ever stop drinking that soy milk?” Your coworker asks. You nurse your cup, keeping it close as you rush to defend your end of shift drink. “You’re like, a baby.”

“It’s lactose free. And a very good basic drink.” You explain, frowning at yet another large cup of taro tea he holds in his hands. “Your drink probably tastes like nothing.”

He holds it out, and you raise an eyebrow. “Just use the same straw,” he insists. You truly don’t mind, but it’s so weird now to know that Heeseung, like, your friend. But you take a sip anyways, cringing at how your suspicions were right- There’s barely a hint of sweetness in there.

“Don’t make that face!” He comments when you grimace, and also feels the need to protect his opinion on 15% sweet options.

“Anyways,” you change the subject, determined to get him to see your sweet tooth ways. “Help me make some creme brûlée for my grandma. I’ve never tried.” And he sets his cup down, and for the first time possibly, Heeseung joins you to do something.

“It should be easy, right?” He says, and with a look of determination, you set off.

“Heat the cream.” You tell him, reading the instructions from your phone.

He retorts lightly, “So rude.” and you turn around to scoff, all in good fun.

“You’re insufferable.” And he tilts his head, offering you a small pouty smile when he turns on the stove.

The mood feels so much less stuffy than it did before when he says, “Must suck to always hate me like how you do.”

“I have an egg yolk in my hand that i’m willing to throw at you.” He chuckles, and peers over at your bowl.

“You’re pretty good at that.” He notes, and you fight the urge to beam at his compliment for your yolk-separation skills. After he’s poured in enough cream, he grabs the sugar and a measuring spoon, fishing your phone out from beside you and reading the measurements.

He adds so much less than what the recipe says, and you only know this because when you glance over, the scale reads a number much lower than 65 grams.

“Heeseung,” You call out, in a playfully stern manner, and the boy in question turns around like he’s been caught. “Bring back the sugar.”

“We’ve run out.” He says, the lie appearing as a wide smile on his face. Unconvinced, you walk over, and in turn, he holds the jar up out of your reach. You refuse to reach for it, knowing that the boy in front of you is much taller, but also that you don’t want to break the glass with some horseplay.

Your voice goes from demanding to reasoning. “Give it back. God, I can’t stand you and all of your low sugar preferences. The sugar is literally needed for the texture!” He simply shakes his head, walking over to add just one more unmeasured spoonful. “You didn’t even weigh it.”

Heeseung mocks you- a high-pitched and garbled version that follows the intonation of your words, and you let out a surprised scoff at his immaturity. Getting a whisk, you make sure the newly added sugar is fully dissolved. He returns with the pot of cream that bubbles slowly, with an oven mitt around the hot handle. Without a look in your direction, Heeseung holds out his arm between you and the heated cream, and it really doesn’t do much- but yet, at the same time, it does. It’s something he does subconsciously; and something you do your best not to pay attention to in order to properly reach for the whisk.

He slaps your hand away lightly, and you mumble an ‘ow!’ in response. “Don’t touch that. Let me whisk it. It’s hot.” He reprimands gently.

Yeah, you’re still doing your best not to pay attention to it.

When the mixture transforms from a deep yellow to a pale banana color, he leans down and checks the side of the bowl for any egg and sugar he’s missed. “Here,” you reach out. “Let me get the pot.” Heeseung glances up, and shakes his head quickly.

“No it’s okay-“ and it happens quickly, the hand that was whisking leaves to swat your hand away, but it instead makes contact with the rim of the metal appliance when he doesn’t pay attention to where his hand is placed. Although Heeseung only hisses quietly at the pain, you immediately feel bad.

“Just give it to me,” you demand, and pry the pot out of his hand to let him nurse his wound, leaving it in the sink and quickly going to the medicine cabinet for burn relief cream- the same one you used a few weeks ago. After you grab it, you return to him, reaching out your hand and waiting for him to show you the puffy red skin.

He slowly puts his hand on your palm, and you twist around his finger to apply the ointment, doing your best to spread it without pressing too hard.

“Thank you.”

You glare. “Don’t hold hot things if you’re not fully attending to them.” And he puts his hands up in surrender, taking a step back.

“I’ll be preparing your ramekins, boss.” The nickname has a nice ring to it.

When it’s done, the creme brûlée comes out with a slight wobble in the middle, indicating a well-cooked perfection. “Grab the blowtorch!” You shove him into the direction of where it is, and he complies. You sprinkle sugar over five of the six dishes, using a spoon to shape the sugar in the last dish into a heart since you thought it looks cute.

Heeseung comes back from your right, leaning over to watch you intently. “A heart? You make it seem like you’re in love, or something.” He jokes, evading a jab with your right elbow.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“You argue like a-“ you’re about to finish your sentence with ‘child,’ but when you turn your head (in hopes that saying it directly would add more emphasis), you’re face to face with Heeseung, with a proximity between you two that’s far less than expected.

He takes a quick step away, and you glance somewhere else with a nervousness in your eye.

Neither of you say anything, not really sure if you should apologize or if he should, and you return to your current task, a small churning turning in your stomach. You take a step back to let him caramelize the sugar, and he holds the blowtorch with his non-burned hand.

It’s good, is the only thing you think when you crack the sugar and scoop a bit, admiring the texture. When you and Heeseung finished one each, you begin to clean up and wash the equipment you used.

“It’s late, _____. I’ll take you home.” He states the obvious, and for what?

“How else am I supposed to get back?” You laugh, and in response, he shrugs.

“Just a reminder as to which one of us is so graciously kind to drive you too and from the bakery almost everyday.”

“If I had a choice, I could’ve easily taken my own car. You know my grandma needs it for her errands. Like her Wednesday bingo night, or whatever.” He chuckles, holding the door open and unlocking the car.

Being in the same space as Lee Heeseung isn’t as excruciating as how it used to be- and now, it’s just an opportunity for you to finally ask your burning questions.

“Heeseung, I’m just curious. How did you even meet my grandma?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “I think it was the mailbox,” he starts, trying to remember. “She dropped her mail, and it blew out into the street, so I went to get it for her. And on the walk back, she just started asking me questions. Apparently she and my mom were closer than I thought.”

“And that’s how you started working?”

“First, it was community service. Just using the cash register- since we’re cashless, it’s nothing illegal to have me manage orders.”

“And she just thought you were an angel from the get-go, or something?”

“Who doesn’t?” And you glare, mocking him like what he did to you earlier. Heeseung’s lips curl into a grin at your antics, never taking it to heart.

“Me, obviously.” And it’s a half-lie, because secretly, Heeseung isn’t so bad.

“Well,” he starts, motioning. “I don’t think there’s anything I do or could do that you’d like.”

You splutter, “That’s not true!” And he raises an eyebrow at your indignant words.

“Name one thing that you like about me.”

“No!” You refuse, crossing your arms. “You already have a large enough ego from the teachers.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at you, tapping his hands tapping on the wheel impatiently. “That’s lame, ____. You’re just further proving my point.”

With a sigh, you tell him, “I like how you helped us win in Taboo.” And he gives you a look.

“Cop-out.”

“What-? No!” Emptying your brain, you try to find something you truly like about the boy who makes life a living hell- or, well, used to (he still kind of does). “Okay, fine. I like that you care about my grandma.”

Heeseung stays kind of quiet, not really sure what to do now that you’re once again being sincere. “Well, she’s like- the only person who doesn’t expect something from me.”

Confusion floods your thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“I’m grateful for everyone in my life,” He prefaces. “But it’s no fun having to always work for people’s approval, sometimes, I wish that someone could just appreciate me for me, and that’s how your grandma is. No expectations with her. She’s just happy I’m still around- which, I know, is bare minimum, but at least I don’t have to try so hard for her to like me.” The light turns green, and the car rumbles as he slowly accelerates.

You mull over his confession. “Do I expect something from you then, too?”

“You expect me to perform well, because I always have- and therefore, I have to do well, or else you’ll just rub it in my face.” He states plainly, and you grimace for the second time today.

“Sorry, I won’t do that anymore.” Heeseung waves you off.

“It’s no big deal- plus, you weren’t the only one who thought I’d do well all the time. It’s something everyone thought of me. If anything, you were the one who just motivated me to always work harder.”

“But isn’t that a good thing? To be the best?”

He shakes his head and when you take a good look at him, Heeseung has a glassy look in his eye. “Sometimes, yes. A lot of the time, no. I just want to do well without anyone forcing that on to me. I don’t want the expectation to be perfect, because then, it’s so much easier for me to stumble.” You don’t realize just how much weight Heeseung carries on his back from the words of his peers and his family. And to you, he resembles a diamond; perfect, but from pressure.

“Well, from now on, I won’t expect it from you. And if I do better, then I won’t rub it in your face. So that’ll make two people you won’t have to worry about.” The response he gives you is non-verbal, but his change in expression is first laced with surprise, and then silent appreciation.

“Thanks,” he says, once again at a loss for words. “I appreciate it.”

You send Heeseung a smile, understanding how it feels to always have to do good. You can only hope that he gets his break from the pressure before he burns out.

“Oh, I should tell you now. I can’t make it next Friday. I have plans, and I’d figure I’d let you know now so you could find someone to replace me.” He announces. When he looks over to see your response, you nod in understanding.

“What are you doing?”

“Grad party.” Heeseung says plainly. “It’s Jake’s, so if I’m hungover, I’ll try to let you know if I’ll be good by morning.”

“So considerate.” You comment, albeit a bit teasing. He scoffs, making the final turn before reaching your house. “To be expected from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” He questions. “And what kind of person am I?”

“Someone who’s going to have to work alone for the next two weeks if he doesn’t shut up.” He laughs, his eyes scrunching up as unlocks the car. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Of course, ____.”

A few days go by, but one morning, you walk outside to see Heeseung parked in his car, scrolling on his phone- and it takes you walking up to him to roll the window down.

“You didn’t even text me you were coming,” you start, pouting slightly.

Heeseung pats the passenger side. “Just- get in, will you?” And you comply, never one to refuse a free trip to work.

“So why today?” You ask, fiddling with your fingers and bag. “You usually never pick me up on Thursdays.”

“Since it’s your grandma’s birthday and all, I figured I could just pick you up, and drop you off. She called me yesterday asking to come over, and invite my parents, too. And they couldn’t come because of a work trip, but I promised her.”

You stay silent. “Fuck, that’s today?” And Heeseung laughs- not at you, just at the situation.

He nods, eyes still glued to the road. “Have you decided what you want to get her?”

“Flowers, definitely. Probably these treats she’s been thinking about getting from the store. I have this really nice collection of kitchen appliances that I know she’ll like.” And you’re rambling, but Heeseung makes no effort to stop you. “She loves to peel stuff by hand, but I was trying this thing out in the store and it actually works perfectly. Here, I’ll pull it up.” And he takes a quick look at the overpriced appliance, realizing that you also care immensely, but in different ways. “I still need to get her stuff, though- I’m not sure how I’m supposed to get to the flower shop if they close when we close.” And it leaves you dejected, since you know what flowers are her favorite, and how happy she’d be if she saw them on the table for a while.

“We’ll figure it out,” Heeseung promises, and you nod, believing his words.

You close a bit earlier than usual, and Heeseung writes on a small sticky note for patrons to come tomorrow. The bakery closes at 8:00 PM everyday, and usually 30 minutes can’t hurt- or at least, you hope it doesn’t.

When you continue to anxiously check the clock, he comes to your side, rubbing your shoulder and telling you that “30 minutes is plenty of time.”

“We have to walk there though, and clean up. There’s virtually no parking there ever since that other place opened up nearby.” And he curses, not taking something like that into consideration. While you might be ending earlier, you can’t just leave anything out in fear that someone’s going to try and break in, but you also don’t have nearly enough time to properly wash the dishes and wipe down the tables and counters. Instead, you both opt for putting away the large equipment and the food, turning off the lights so anyone who looks in gets the impression it’s closed with the lack of displays or people around. Then, you two can come back to finish organizing and preparing for tomorrow.

His reassurance is easy to listen to, and Heeseung’s ability to figure out a plan is comforting in and of itself. You’re grateful he’s even willing to come with.

“You can just wait in the car, really-“

Heeseung looks at you like you’re mad. “We talked about this,” he pressed. “It’s dangerous to go out alone. I have nothing to do in the car anyways.”

Finally, you shut off the lights and start dragging Heeseung’s arm, who’s still taking the key out of the lock as he’s being taken away by your impatience. Setting off in a brisk walk, you continue to check your phone, trying to beat time. Heeseung promises you once more that it’ll be okay, and you ask him what he got for your grandma to change the conversation. You both know her well, and your gifts reflect what qualities you care for most. You realize that Heeseung always keeps others in the back of his mind- like his thoughtful gift to Sunoo, with a handwritten card that Sunoo read a bit of to you guys before Heeseung stopped the further embarrassment. You didn’t realize it then, but the people in his life feel wanted all the time because he has the love to give them.

You get there barely five minutes before 8:00 PM, and the discontent that washes over the shop owner’s face is apparent. “We’re closed,” she says, and you can’t imagine it’s easy to stay by yourself in a room so stuffy and full of pollen. You walk up to her with Heeseung following behind you, observing the way you practically beg for her to let you find some flowers. You promise you won’t take long, and she sighs, unraveling some of the wrapping paper she knows you’ll want.

There aren’t many left now that the day is over- and you wonder what kind of people frequent the flower shops. Is it apologetic husbands trying to win over their disappointed wives? Is it children buying flowers for their parents and elders? Or is it people like you and Heeseung, who want to gift it to someone they care about?

“Can you trim the thorns?” And she shakes her head, continuing to ring your bouquet up. You feel horrible, understanding exactly how it feels when someone at the bakery asks for something so grandiose near closing, when your social battery has depleted and you don’t have any more smiles to give. And you know this, but you’re willing to go above and beyond if the shop owner is okay with it. The effort she’s put in already to cut the papers and ribbons to accentuate the flowers is already plenty, but it’s your grandma, and you make sure to come back to support her generously again.

“Please,” you exhale, desperation and anger mixing in your tone. “I’ll pay extra.” With that, the shop owner sighs, taking your forty dollars and looking up as she opens the cash register. “Just keep it.” You say, in apology for earlier. She doesn’t decline the offer, and slides the crumpled bill into the slot with the rest of them, and ties a purple ribbon around the bouquet.

You almost forget that he watches the whole ordeal, until the owner of the flower shop mutters a “couples these days” under her breath, and your eyes widen.

With profuse thanks, you grab the neatly wrapped flowers and leave, but the moment you turn the corner, you gawk. “Did you hear what she said?”

“That we’re a couple?” Heeseung brushes it off like it’s nothing. “Yeah. But- what kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t the one paying for them?”

Heeseung paying for flowers to give to you- it’s a thought that leaves you quiet as your feet follow the same steps you took to get there. Of course he would- and you wonder if you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of it from him- or, actually, anyone for that matter. You’re not sure your mind automatically wants such a sweet gesture from Lee Heeseung himself.

“Thank you for coming, again.”

“Quit worrying about bothering me,” and it’s like he can read your mind. “Believe it or not, I don’t mind being around you.” His sarcastic comment still holds that undercurrent of honesty, and it’s like he knows just what you need to hear.

The walk back is much less stressful than the walk to. It falls back to that simple dynamic between two people who have begun to tolerate each other, full of little insults, hits to the side, and laughing. You finally make it back, and the sun paints the sky with swirling blue and pink. The sunset illuminates Heeseung’s side profile as he unlocks the door again, and when you finally pay attention to his jawline, or the gentle purse of his lips in concentration, you come to the conclusion that Heeseung is more than easy on the eyes.

And as you two clean up, the flowers sit in the passenger seat; a symbol of care for your grandmother, and Lee Heeseung’s time well spent with you.

The trips with leftovers become more frequent, and his parents always remember who you are every time you come bearing gifts. “____!” They exclaim, returning the old tupperware with more dishes on top. It feels like at this point, your grandma cooks for them, and they cook for her just as much.

“Go bother Heeseung, won’t you? We have dinner in a moment, but he’s been so busy with his work.” You smile at her, curious as to what he even has to do now that school’s over. “It’s the room to your left when you go up.”

You knock on his door and he yells in response, telling you to come in. Under the assumption that it’s his family, Heeseung goes wide-eyed when he notices it’s you in his messy room with his pajamas and old t-shirts strewn here and there.

“I did not expect it to be you,” he mumbles, quickly getting out of his chair to fix his covers and pick up a sock. A laugh bubbles from your throat with the way he’s scrambling to make things presentable right before you.

“Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be staying long anyways. Your mom told me to drag you downstairs because you were too invested in your work.” He looks sheepish as he mumbles a quick apology, and after the quick tidying, he shuts his laptop and organizes his desk. “What do you even have to do anyways?”

“I’m just making music- I started this internship with an entertainment company where they let me shadow a producer and offer input on some unreleased songs for their artists- so I’m just looking at the tracks and making demos.”

“They let you do that? I figured shadowing wasn’t possible for a company so big.” He nods, a smile dusting his features, and you can tell he takes pride in what he’s accomplished.

You’re about to ask more, but a call of your names from downstairs leaves you two quickly walking down.

“Have dinner with us!” His dad tells you, and you want to tell him you already ate a bit, but the noodles look delicious, and you agree to only eat a little bit. You glance over at Heeseung, but he offers a small smile as he pulls out a chair for you.

And so it begins again, but just without your grandmother.

“____, what are you planning to do in the future?” Heeseung’s dad starts.

“I’m planning to study Biology in the fall at uni.” You start. “I had an internship last summer before senior year, and I really learned a lot from it, so I knew what I wanted to do by the time I applied for schools.” His mother praises you, as all Asian mothers do, and you can see why Heeseung is so kind-hearted by the way his parents speak to you.

The conversation naturally switches from your plans to Heeseung’s, as they talk about his pursuit in music production.

“I’m sure he’s doing a good job, I’m always in classes with him, and there’s nothing you need to worry about.”

His mother continues, however. “I mean, there’s always ways kids can get ahead. I always tell him to apply for things early, and he could’ve gotten more scholarships and finished his internship last summer if he wasn’t so behind. But he’s doing it now, so there's nothing we can say about it.” Her words rub you the wrong way immensely. While your own parents were never the most involved in your high school academics and were supportive of any career path you chose, they never placed an expectation on you to do the best and overachieve. But you get the sense that for Heeseung, no matter how supportive they were, it was never really good enough. It’s torturous.

But, you don’t really know how to respond, humming to ease the growing silence instead. “That’s always true, but I know a lot of people look up to him, including me. He’s doing great regardless of when he does it.” No matter how gently you put it, you know it’s in total opposition to how they think and feel when it comes to their own son, but you can only hope that it helps ease the tension.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly, with the discussion of your summer and how things have been with friends, parties, and planned trips. You finish their food quickly, complimenting Heeseung’s mother’s cooking once again and watching her face light up.

“You should head home, we don’t want your grandma to be too worried.” His dad starts, and you agree, quick to grab your bag. Heeseung takes the containers from your hand and starts putting on his sandals. “I’ll walk you home.” Despite your refusal to let him carry your things, he insists, and you miss the way his mom stares fondly at you two from the kitchen island.

The warm summer air gives you the illusion that it’s not so late, and with the way light still peaks from the horizon, you feel less tired the later the summer nights get.

The boy next to you speaks up first. “Did you mean it?” You sneak a glance at his relaxed posture, a hand in his sweatpants and bangs on his forehead.

“What part?”

“Any part.”

You nod, feeling almost incredulous that he thought you’d make up something like that after you two agreed to be on good terms.

“Of course, Hee- I wouldn’t lie about that stuff, especially not to your parents.”

“I’m sorry about them, by the way.” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “They have high expectations sometimes, I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable to hear them talk about me like that so openly.” The first instinct you have is to reach for his shoulder, making eye contact with him and offering a semblance of comfort before you walk across the street.

“No, you don’t need to apologize for stuff like that. I’m sorry your parents hold you to those kinds of expectations.”

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

“But the problem is, you shouldn’t have to be used to it. You’ve genuinely done so much and you deserve some recognition rather than someone always telling you to do better.”

It goes quiet, but you don’t choose to bring anything else up, enjoying the crickets chirping and the gentle breeze that carries you home.

You stop outside your door and unlock it, inviting him in to say hi to your grandmother.

“Thank you,” you tell him as he’s leaving. “For walking me home.”

Heeseung simply shakes his head. “It was nothing, really. Thank you for seeing my parents again and whatnot.” He smiles, waving at you before walking back, and a grin makes its way onto your face before you even notice it.

Your phone dings at an hour earlier than you expected to get up, and it leaves you in an annoyed mood while you turn off your alarms.

hee: dude you HAVE to come in we just got a huge order for triple chocolate cake they said they’d pay extra if we finished by today

y/n: help wtf r u doing at the bakery

hee: i was making brownies i asked ur grandma this morning if i could

y/n: what for…

hee: because i had a craving ??? what else..

y/n: oh LOL ok ill be there in 30

Originally, you and Heeseung were going to have the day off, and your aunt and grandma were going to work instead- but the tempting offer from Heeseung leaves you explaining why you have to come in for work, and that they should stay at home. You say anything that comes to mind, but they know you wouldn’t let them come with the way you were dressed and already grabbing your shoes and keys.

When you finally rush to the doors, you see Heeseung cutting into the chocolate treats, and when you two make eye contact, he shoves the piece in his mouth and nods.

“Gross.” You comment, laughing.

He says something intangible, and you shake your head, putting on your apron.

The amount of work you two have put in is simply criminal to be fake, and the day off you have is getting darker the longer you two stay.

You voice your concerns. “Do you think they’re lying about the tip?What they told you seems like much.”

Heeseung shrugs, and sprinkles sea salt over the piece he picks up. “I’d hope it’s true. They seemed pretty desperate. I called them back today telling them their order would be done soon, so if they show up and pay more, that’d be great.”

“I’m glad you’re so optimistic.” You laugh.

“I have to be, because you’re definitely not.” Heeseung laughs when he sees the scowl on your face.

“Oh yeah? I think I’m at least a little better than the time you spilled the tapioca pearls and then talked about how everyone had it out for you that day.” He rolls his eyes.

“Between the two of us, I’ll always hear you saying ‘fuck, i dropped the spoon’ more.” His teasing has you smiling.

“Focus on your lettering. Or do you need someone to hold your hand and help you?” You lean over to look at him spelling CONGRATS with brown icing. “You messed up.” Nitpicking, you point out a random loop and make fun of him for it despite it not looking bad at all.

“I did not!” He huffs defensively. “I want to see you try.” He passes you the bag, and you get a piece of plastic wrap on the counter before starting.

“Lee Heeseung sucks.” He reads. “Did you seriously write that?” You laugh at how offended he is, and the boy next to you is quick to pull the bag from your hand to start piping. halfway through the word ‘hate,’ you elbow his side, and it causes his letter ‘t’ to be dragged too far.

“Hey!” He runs over, smearing a bit of icing on your forehead before you duck and try to avoid all his other attacks. The laughs bubble from your stomach, the adrenaline causing you two to chase each other around the kitchen. You’re not even sure what Heeseung would do if he catches you, but you don’t want to find out.

“I think we should package those cakes!” You remind him, albeit as a distraction. He sighs, crossing his arms in defeat before agreeing and heading back over. You narrowly avoid his glare, a wide smile on your face as you hum in victory. It’s a bit past closing, and he makes sure to flip the sign, still keeping the light on.

The customer rings the phone, telling Heeseung that she’ll be there in a few minutes. By the time you’ve boxed all three cakes and cleaned up any edges, she walks in. You ring her up at the counter, and she pulls out her largest bills, telling you to take the change as a gift. You two both thank her immensely, making sure she can carry the cakes out to her car before closing for the night.

When Heeseung enters through the front door, immediately you start cheering. “We just got paid tonight, Hee!”

The boy grins, subtracting the total from the amount she gave, and it’s clear that she was being serious when she said she would pay extra. “I think this calls for celebration.”

You don’t really have an excuse to see him outside of work, and the idea of being alone in a non-bakery setting feels scarily new.

And you’re about to make up an excuse about how you have to be home (you don’t), but your stomach makes a low sound, and it serves as an answer in place of your faltering words.

“I’m thinking Korean.”

You don’t expect to learn something new about Lee Heeseung, until you see him order two bowls of stir fried ramen despite the restaurant serving much more elegant dishes.

“Ramen?” A glance at the menu has you reading one of the more expensive meals offered. “You could’ve had- I don’t know, their Honey Garlic Short Ribs.”

He scrunches his nose in disapproval as a testament to how much he adores his instant noodles. “It’s just not the same. We barely have noodles at home, since my mom always insists on making it from scratch or boiling them in those big packages. Never just ramen.” You take a sip of your water, surprised.

“You don’t have ramen? God, come over more often, I’ll make you some.” You suggest lightheartedly.

He glances over, taking you up on the offer. “Woah- me, in your space?” You send him a glare, looking away and ignoring his laughs.

The food comes relatively quickly, and he looks over what you’ve gotten to judge it. “It looks good. Let me have some.” He says, reaching over with his wooden chopsticks.

You gasp at his suddenness, quick to refuse and to drag your plate away from him as you pick up a short rib and eat it before he can. The meat tastes wonderfully marinated and tender, and you don’t realize that the haphazard way you tried to eat it left some sauce on your mouth. Heeseung glances over with a frown, about to comment on how incredibly stingy you are until he notices there’s red sauce on your chin, and grabs his tissue.

“Here.” He says, tapping you on the shoulder. And silently, he wipes it off, to make sure you won’t have to walk around with people seeing and saying anything.

“Oh- thanks.” It’s pathetic the way your throat dries up, and how you force yourself to drink your water and move on. You hear about this only in movies- about male leads you turn to burns and wax poetic about how much they love you. You don’t expect it to happen so suddenly.

“Is yours any good?” You ask, averting your gaze. His fried eggs and boiled shrimp sit neatly on his stir fried noodles, the presentation better than you could ever make it at home.

With a shrug, he replies, “We’ll see.” He tries some, and you see a satisfied grin on his features.

“Is ramen really that good, Hee?” His enthusiastic nods tell you all you need to know as you continue eating, your pile of bones growing ever so slowly. You two make small talk, about his recent beach trip, or about you rafting with your friends. He talks of college- about going away and his fears of growing up. You tell him you’re scared to dorm, since you’ve been around your family for so long, and you share each other’s sentiments about the rapidly approaching adulthood you’ll both have to face. It’s nice like this, not to bicker and to argue and to despise him. It’s nice to just exist around Lee Heeseung, and you wonder why you haven’t done something like this before- sitting next to him and being able to talk freely about the interests and questions you share.

You guess that it was just the timing- you were both always so stressed from school, unable to properly sit down to sort out your emotions. And yeah- summer is a new slate, and this year feels just a bit more life-changing than the rest of them.

“You eat so slow.” And you shoot him yet another scowl, picking up some rice.

“You ordered ramen and you eat like you’ve been starved for three years.”

“Whatever. I’ll cover the bill?”

Narrowing your eyes, you try to remember if you two had discussed anything about payments before. “No- I thought we were just going to split the bill.”

He doesn’t seem to care too much. “I’ll pay for you, since I couldn’t have done it without you,” refering to all the baking you did today.

Exasperated, you refute his horrible reasoning. “I wouldn’t have even found out about her order if you weren’t there. Just let me split it.” You reach out expectantly, and he retracts the receipt, clutching it close.

“Just pay me back sometime for something else,” and it’s the last thing he says before turning on his heel and leaving you with your agape.

When you clean up and join him in the car, the first thing you tell him is that he’s ‘annoying,’ and ‘so stubborn it hurts.’

Heeseung just laughs at you, telling you it’s nothing special- like he’s used to paying for others. And thinking about how many people come in to ask him for his number or hope for a date, your assumption makes sense- that he does these things for everyone, and you’re not an outlier in any way.

When the bakery is one chestnut haired boy short, things are much less interesting.

“Don’t have too much fun without me.” You joke when Heeseung begins to undo his apron.

“You can come,” He offers with a small yet sincere smile on his face. “I asked, you all know each other anyways.” You feel your heart stir with the way Heeseung keeps you in his thoughts.

All you do is refuse his offer. “I have to rewatch my rom-coms.” You wave him off, and within minutes, you’re left alone. The quiet music plays and the bell jingles every so often as patrons come for pick-up orders or drinks. Thankfully it was slow for a Friday, and you weren’t rushing around the shop.

There’s a girl who’s around your age who walks in, curious as to who’s taking her order before making eye contact with you emerging from behind the curtain.

“Where’s the boy you usually work with?” She says, getting a list of what her and her friends wanted. “I’ve been meaning to ask for his number.”

You can’t lie and say you’re indifferent to her question, but nonetheless, you take her order and give her his phone number saved in his contact. “He’s not dating anyone, so don’t worry.” You tell her, handing over the receipt. She smiles, and your heart tightens a little at the thought of Heeseung. One of you two is well-liked, one out of the two of you is perfect in every way, and it wasn’t you.

Without any of your usual weekly plans with your friends, the drive home was quiet as you figured out what to do for the weekend. You would feel bad every time your grandma had to take a shift despite her recovering quickly, and despite her being excited to work again. When home, you decide to make dinner, change, clean up around the house, and retreat to your old room. The show you were catching up on until the wee hours of night was interrupted, and a familiar contact flashes on the screen.

“Heeseung?” You ask, confused. It’s 12:00 AM.

“____-ie.” The line giggles a bit before you hear some shuffling. “My head hurts.”

You’re a bit shocked to hear him like this, but you’re not going to hang up on him and leave him confused. “Did you drink too much?” You ask, trying to choose your words carefully.

“Yeah,” Heeseung responds, sighing. “I lost a bet, _____. And I lost cup pong, too.” He sounds dejected, like a hurt puppy as he elongates his syllables and pauses between thoughts. “I was going to tell you something.”

“That you can’t come in for work tomorrow? You sound out of it, Heeseung.”

He groans, and more shuffling comes from his side. “Yeah, but I can’t drive, ____-ie.” You cringe at the nickname, but refuse to say anything about it with the way he’s acting now. “No one else can take me home, and my parents can’t know.” He sounds stressed, and you’re quick to reassure him before he starts crying.

“Where are you?”

“You’ll pick me up?” Heeseung asks, his tone filled with elation.

“Maybe. Depends on how I feel in the next 10 minutes.”

“I’ll cover your shifts anytime, I’ll drive you home, I’ll buy food for you, I’ll sneak you out…” He continues to ramble about all the favors he could do for you, and you laugh before getting out of bed.

“You better mean it.”

“I want to see you.” You know he just wants to go home, you know he doesn’t mean anything else with his words. You know he just wants to sober up and go to sleep.

You know it’s nothing more between you two, yet your heart still beats wildly with every minute you drive, the words echoing in your head.

“I got you water, and some food- I have no idea if you ate or not.” Is the first thing you tell him when he stumbles out of the house and into your car.

Heeseung’s one drowsy blink away from falling asleep, and you have to shake him away to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep with a hangover. “Hee!” You rush to park on a random sidewalk before unbuckling your seatbelt.

You brush back his red hair, pushing his curly bangs away and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He slowly blinks, adjusting to the proximity between you two. You shove a water bottle in his hand before getting a tissue to wipe the light sheen off of his skin.

“What are you doing, hm?” And his voice, rough with exhaustion, has you quiet for a moment as your skin gets hot.

Despite your heart thrumming faster, you force yourself to answer simply. “You’re going to have a hangover.”

He opens his water, drinking almost a third before he leans back. “My head still hurts.” He whines, and you have to laugh.

“Here,” you suggest, opening the tupperware of fried rice. “Eat.”

He refuses, continuing to drink from his water, and you don’t have it in you to be annoyed at him. Instead, you grab a spoon. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” You mumble, starting to break up the fried egg and mix it all together.

After the first bite, “It’s good,” He says simply. “I’m glad I got to see you.”

You feel the incessant pounding in your eardrums and your whole face feels hot. “Eat, before you throw up.”

“I missed you.” Despite the harmless intention, you can’t stand to let Heeseung sweet-talk you, and it almost frustrates you to know there’s no weight to his words.

You roll your eyes at him and force him to finish his water. “Sober up before you get home.”

In the quiet of the night, in the small neighborhood with everyone asleep, no one would know about the loudness of your chest, about how his eyes still hold his twinkle as he gazes tiredly at you, letting him dote on him.

You continue to make sure he drinks and eats, and you’re so engrossed in taking care of him that you don’t realize how little the distance is between you. Making eye contact with him leaves you stunned into silence, but Heeseung says nothing to dispel what’s between you two. He reaches up, his palm cupping your jaw, and you swear, past the alcohol, there’s the faint fresh scent of the ocean, one that you recognize from being around him so often.

You hold your breath, keeping the box in your steady as you wait for what he’s about to do next. He stares in silent question, glancing only to your lips and back up. It’s like time doesn’t even pass anymore, like a moment written in eternity when you brush away some of his hair.

You swear you’re about to kiss Lee Heeseung for the first time in your life.

Instead, you cough and duck from his intimate stare, and he pulls away. The heat of his thumb still lingers on your cheek, and the way he looks at you doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re feeling better, right? I’ll drive you home.”

The wind whips against your window and the streets lay bare as you turn into his neighborhood. It’s all you can do. You can’t be in love, not with Heeseung.

Heeseung texts you profusely the next day, apologizing before he leaves the house to see you in person. ‘i’m sorry if anything happened last night, please let me know if I overstepped a boundary,’ and despite his words being through text, your mouth feels like it’s dried up, and that you have no idea what to tell him. You send him something vague about driving yourself, nothing that alludes to how your heart raced and skipped a few beats, and how you still think about the gentle way he caresses your jaw.

How are you supposed to pretend things were the same? Like you weren’t watching him, like his gaze wasn’t with care, and his touches were not electric. How could you pretend that you weren’t slowly falling for Lee Heeseung?

“Did I,” He starts as he rushes through the door. “Did I do something wrong?”

Shaking your head, you continue to crush up the cookies in their topping container. “I just don’t want to bother you with driving me around anymore.”

“But you’re not a bother.” Heeseung can barely recall what happened yesterday, and he doesn’t know what caused your sudden lack of interest with your texts from the morning. “Look, ____-”

In a desperate attempt to push down your unreturned feelings and return things to how they were, you cut him off. “Heeseung, drop it.”

The day stretches for an eternity, and Heeseung knows something’s wrong. As one last chance to fix things before he goes, he speaks up. “Please, what did I do?”

And you want to oh-so desperately tell him that last night, you were about to kiss, that the distance between you two was so finite and the way he looked at you had your stomach churning with butterflies. That somewhere, you realized just how similar you two were- that Lee Heeseung understood hard work, he paid attention to the little things, he related to and comforted you in the times that you felt like you were never enough. And those are just the handful of reasons why. You never knew just how well you truly knew him until you evaluated the years you’ve spent together. Some things you pick up subconsciously; like the way he fidgets or nervously smiles when a girl asks for his number, or the way he always looks back at you when he rejects her advances. It’s weird how quickly the knots that made your relationship so complicated suddenly untangle. It’s really just this long windy string that connects you and him, and within the miscommunication, it’s gone awry.

You and him are in the same vein, and with how much time you spend with each other, it’d be criminal if you didn’t slowly fall for the way he sings along the radio or how he started to open your door. He cares, in all of the minuscule tiny ways that make your heart ache so terribly. “Nothing, it’s…” It’s almost sick how your mind immediately wanders to some stupid scenario where you and Heeseung ended whatever was going on between you two, and you admitted feelings to each other. Heeseung drives you around in his car, Heeseung comes to your house with baked goods he made himself, Heeseung’s eyes glitter when you two get good scores on a test, telling you how happy he is. “It’s just nothing.” You tell him, not really sure what to make of your feelings at all. And while your emotions towards the boy are new and fresh, they're so real- it snowballs fast.

“It’s not nothing if something’s changed between us.” He reasons, a look in his eye begging you to explain.

“It should be nothing, Heeseung. We’ve never gotten along, so what’s the difference now?” The words leave a burn on your tongue, and you hate the way Heeseung looks away for a moment before he agrees.

“Right.” He says, monotone and lifeless. “Why bother?”

And you’re angry with yourself for the way you nod, taking your things. You want to scream in his face that you’ve begun to tolerate Lee Heeseung, in more ways than one. You don’t just tolerate him- you appreciate him, you care for him, you want him to be yours.

“Okay- Hee, wait.” You falter in your decisions, your heartstrings pulling you in an enchanting way towards him- against all rational. “I’m sorry.” You can’t let a good thing go, you can’t risk never talking to him again, simply because you don’t know what it’s like to live life without him. You see him in every memory, in every class photo, and you can’t bear to be the reason you two stop talking- all because you were too scared to speak your mind.

He turns around, waiting for you to continue, crossing his arms as he proceeds to lean against the counter. If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit that Lee Heeseung is one of the most attractive people you’ve met.

“Do you mean it?” You ask, feeling foolish. He should be asking you that- after what you’ve just told him.

Heeseung takes a step closer, his gaze on the ground as he nears the cash register, slowly closing the distance between you two.

“Do you mean it?” He asks, his voice small. There’s still space between you two, and it feels like oceans apart. And you soak up his words for consideration, truly questioning if you did.

“No, Heeseung-“ You stare at the blinds, looking around the space only to realize just how secluded you two were- that no one outside of the bakery would know just what loops and hurdles you two had been through to get here. “I could never. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Is it true, then? That we get along, now?” His slow steps finally leave the crunching of his shoes in front of you, and you nod your head. And after he sees your confirmation, he continues. “How do you feel about me, ____?”

Your surprised gaze meets his, and you see the small smile on his lips, and the almost playful look in his eye indicating that he’s not really hurt anymore.

“I hate you, Lee Heeseung.” You say, emboldened by his teasing. “I hated you for spilling all of that applesauce on me when we were eight, I hate how you get along with everyone, I hate how you act like you’re better than me.” You pause, to think of more, but his hand reaches up to cup your chin, pointing up to make sure you’re looking at him.

“I hate all that humming you do at work,” you start, your voice small, feeling shy now that he’s forced to make eye contact (which is extremely attractive and turns your legs into jelly). “Or your piping skills, or how good your macarons taste compared to mine.”

Heeseung is so dangerously close, like how you were just last night. “What else?” He goads you on, wanting to hear just how much more you have left.

“I hate everything about you,” You barely murmur above a whisper with him being so close to you. “But I’d hate it if you didn’t return my feelings, either.”

He smiles, finally hearing you admit the very things that’s been plaguing your relationship with the idea of more.

“Anything more to add?”

You scoff, reaching up and tangling your hands in his hair. The last thing that reaches Lee Heeseung’s ears are the words, “You’re so annoying,” before you crash your lips into his.

Your kiss with Heeseung satisfies a longing that’s lasted for a while- to know what it felt like to be so close to him, to kiss his rosy lips just once. It’s tantalizing- the way you can’t pull away, and the way he doesn’t let you with how his hand rests on your lower back to pull you closer. When your hold on his hair loosens slightly, he gingerly lets you lean back. Your forehead comes to rest with his as you open your eyes, letting out a slow breath as you think about the ghost of his kiss on your lips. He’s hesitant to separate from you completely, and rests his hand on your waist instead.

You smile, biting your lip so you don’t giggle like an excited girl who’s just told her friends about a measly interaction with her crush. Your heart feels like a floating balloon, and your lips stretch into a grin, prompting Heeseung to smile at you, too.

An idiot. That’s what you both look like. But when Lee Heeseung presses a small kiss on your forehead and intertwines your fingers, you couldn’t care less.

“Heeseung, stop piping heart macarons, it’s embarrassing.” He rolls his eyes at you and adjusts the piping bag with red macaron batter inside.

He mimics you childishly, and you want to scoop the lemon curd to plop on his head. “Stop piping heart macarons, yeah, okay, so why do I see you eating them?”

“I don’t. I’d never.” You’re lying, and you both know that, but Heeseung entertains your false narrative a bit more.

“I’ll have you know, the lady at the law firm a few blocks down came here earlier and ordered some of them.” He retorts. You stick your tongue out at him and continue to mix the drink you’ve been preparing.

“What does she want them for, hm? I can imagine she’s in the season of love in July.” He laughs at your childish comment, continuing to pipe out almost identical hearts onto the baking sheet.

“Maybe she loves her partner so much and wants to shower them in affection.” He grins, alluding to your relationship. You want to flick him across the forehead, rolling your eyes and walking over after finishing your drink for a to-go order.

With an elbow on the counter, you watch him from the side as he diligently fills in the heart outlines. “You’ve always liked my macarons, though.” He reminds you. “Remember? You said it when we k-“

“Can you shut up about that?” You cut him off, feeling embarrassed. “It was like- a month ago.”

It’s your exasperation that fuels him to tease you further. “It was a good kiss, was it n-“

You bump his shoulder, and he messes up one of the macarons, pausing before looking up at you. “Hey!” He whines, frowning. “These are supposed to be for that lawyer, remember?”

You roll your eyes, and you know when Heeseung lies through his teeth. “Yeah, yeah,” You mutter, using a clean finger to wipe at the edge to make it look nice once more. You play along with his lie. “And we definitely fell in love because of cupid.”

my baby is done!! as always pleaseeeeee let me know what you think!! even if it is just 'hdefhjfhds' that means the world to me!!!

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kwanisms · 22 days

Text

The Witch & the Lamb — k.hongjoong

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➮ witch!Hongjoong × fem!Reader wc: 33.5k (i am so sorry) summary: Hongjoong lives on the edge of a village nestled in the Carpathian Mountains and mostly keeps to himself except when he comes to town to sell his wares. After the town’s governor’s daughter catches his eye, it starts to cause problems for him. Problems that are made worse when he’s accused of being the source of the village’s problems. genres/themes/au: angst, slight fluff, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, historical setting, demon warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, historical period setting (think Puritan or like Salem witch trials but fantasy and with more creative liberty lol), mentions of: alcohol & food consumption, witches & witchcraft, religious text & ideology, harm against animals; attempted SA, Hongjoong is treated like shit by the villagers & later accused of witchcraft, major & minor character deaths (heed this warning, i’m not playing around. This shit is dark), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

taglist have been moved to the reblogs. join my taglists: main | series Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: I said I was going to write a backstory for Hongjoong and here it is. It’s kind of long so read with caution. Do NOT ignore the warnings. They are there for a reason. Hongjoong isn’t the asshole, the villagers aren’t the asshole, this is a total ESH (everyone sucks here) kind of situation. Everyone does what they do for a reason. That being said, please enjoy this part and keep an eye out for the next part which will introduce the rest of the priests aka Yunho, Mingi, San, Wooyoung, and Jongho. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: dirty talk, virgin!Reader, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving, m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, breeding kink, praise (f receiving), and I think that’s it? There are two sex scenes in this so if I missed any, I’m sorry! Just let me know!~

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A sense of community is something many people strive for, especially in rural areas but for Hongjoong, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

He hated the idea of community. Mainly because his community hated him.

Maybe hate was the wrong word, but strongly disliked covered it pretty well.

Hongjoong was well aware that he was considered an outsider of his community. Never mind the fact his home had been there longer than the village. These woods had always been his home. He’d grown up in them, played alone in them, explored them as a teen. As far as he was concerned, they were his woods.

And he didn’t like anyone in his woods, especially not the villagers.

Unless that villager was you, of course.

You stepped out into the cool autumn morning, the gray clouds overhead threatening to bring rain. You had errands to run, items to trade, and chores to do and to get it all done in a timely manner, it required you to start your day early.

As you started for the small village square where the market was always set up, you caught sight of movement out of the corner of your eye. Nicolas had spotted you and no doubt was ready to make his move.

It was well known amongst the people in your age range that Nicolas had eyes for you. He’d made his intentions clear from the start but to you, he was no better than the pests that bothered your animals. A fly buzzing around the eyes and ears, a bug to be swatted at.

As you continued your walk, Nicolas’ path intercepted yours and soon he was standing directly in your way. Instead of giving into the urge to push him out of your way and earn the ire of your parents and possibly Nicolas’ parents, you forced a polite smile.

“Good morrow, Nicolas,” you murmured, trying to step around the man. “Why are you behaving so bizarrely, Y/N?” he asked, a smirk present on his face. You wanted to slap that look off his face but chose against it. Better to grin and bear it. “No reason,” you answered.

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “I am not in the mood for your games, Nicolas. I have errands to be done,” you said, stopping to look at him. “Go your way and I shall go mine.”

Before he could say anything else, you managed to duck around him and continue down the path. You were walking past the square where the marketplace had been set up. Your eyes wandered over where several of your neighbors and members of the village were set up to sell their wares.

It wasn’t uncommon on this day of the week for people to sell things. They’d worked all week and now had something to show for it. Your eyes were drawn in particular to one spot. A small cart with furs, antlers, bones, and plenty of other animal parts. Your eyes traveled to the owner and a smile crossed your face.

It was Hongjoong. He was currently talking to Gideon about something you couldn’t hear but when Gideon nodded and the two traded, Hongjoong handed over a couple rabbit pelts and some leather in exchange for a knife. As Gideon walked away, Hongjoong looked up, meeting your gaze. He sent a nod in your direction which you reciprocated before turning away.

You couldn’t afford to be distracted by him when you had plenty of errands to run.

You went about your errands, trading the jams your mother had made with the kind old widow who lived next to the church. You also took the cheese you had extra of to her sister who lived next door. She loved the goat cheese you made and would spend actual coin on it. She also always had the loveliest baked goods which she shared with you on occasion.

As you left her home, you bumped into someone, dropping your bag of scones onto the ground. You mumbled an apology and knelt to pick up the bag but a set of hands beat you to it. Looking up, you saw the face of the young pastor who had joined your village only last winter, Yeosang.

You stood upright as he handed the bag to you. “My apologies,” he said softly, a kind smile on his face. “I didn’t see you standing there.” You took the bag, mumbling a thanks. “It’s my fault,” you replied. “I was not paying attention.”

Yeosang’s smile widened slightly. “No doubt distracted by the baked goods Mrs. Goode gave you?” he asked, a slight hint of amusement to his voice. Your cheeks burned but you couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. “She likes the cheese and jams my family makes,” you explained. Yeosang nodded thoughtfully.

“As do I,” he answered. “Your mother was kind enough to offer me some last month. Do you make the cheese yourself?” he asked as you turned to start the trek back to your place. You nodded silently. “Your mother tells me you’ve been making cheese since you were a young girl,” he continued. You nodded once more. “Aye, I have,” you answered.

“I like making things. I do not get to craft much but baking, cooking, jam and cheese making is one of my favorite pastimes,” you explained as you headed back towards the market. You caught sight of Hongjoong as he was carving something with the knife he’d procured from Gideon. He glanced up, meeting your gaze and gave you a smile before noticing Yeosang beside you. Yeosang noticed Hongjoong and sent him a polite nod which Hongjoong returned.

“I have business to attend to,” Yeosang said as he turned away from Hongjoong to look at you. “Have a pleasant day,” he added, giving you a small bow before turning and heading back in the direction of the church. You turned towards the market where Hongjoong was showing someone the selection of dried herbs he had. As they came to an agreement, you slowly approached, waiting for them to depart before approaching the stand.

“I’m almost out of rabbit pelts,” he said, not looking up as he tucked the knife away in the leather sheath at his hip and looked up, his eyes widening in surprise before a smile spread across his face. “Well, well, well.” he said with a smirk, not unlike the one Nicolas had given you earlier.

The difference was that while you didn’t much care for Nicolas, you definitely liked Hongjoong.

“I have no need for rabbit pelts,” you replied, a smirk spreading across your face as Hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his cart. “No need for rabbit pelts?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. “Not even one?”

You shook your head. “I have nothing to trade for it,” you answered. Hongjoong smiled before standing up straight and turning to his cart. He started shifting things and sifting through a bag before pulling something out and turning to you and closing the short distance.

“I ask for nothing,” he started, presenting a pure white pelt of fur. You glanced down at it and back up at him. “It’s pure white,” you noted. Hongjoong smiled warmly. “Aye,” he answered. “It’s beautiful, is it not?”

You nodded, reaching out cautiously to touch the soft fur. “And so soft,” you whispered. Hongjoong motioned for you to take it, prompting you to withdraw your hand. “I could not,” you said quickly. Hongjoong shook his head and wordlessly took your hand and placed the pelt in it. “I already told you,” he said softly. “I ask for nothing in return. Think of it as a gift.”

Your cheeks burned as you looked at the fur in your hands. “Thank you,” you said softly, looking up to meet Hongjoong’s dark brown eyes. Of all the men in the village and that you’ve seen passing through, Hongjoong was the most beautiful. He was not a member of the community, his family having settled in the woods long before your village was established.

You’d never seen the cabin he called home but you’d heard much about it from the stories Hongjoong told you. You wanted to see his home, see where he lived and what kind of home he kept on his own.

Hongjoong took a step forward, eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching too closely before he slipped something into your hand. “Come see me in a month and I might have another white pelt for you,” he said softly, a smile on his face as he backed away.

You nodded, unable to speak before muttering a departing goodbye and hurried away from the market, hand gripping the paper he’d pressed into your palm. Once you were a good distance away and able to slip out of sight, you unfolded the paper to read what he’d written.

There’s a full moon tonight, come see her with me? I can show you the new constellations for the season.

Your lips pulled into a smile as you read his note over and over before folding it up and tucking it away in your dress. You headed out of your hiding space, glancing back to find Hongjoong speaking to another village elder, showing off his items for trade.

You headed for your house, smiling to yourself as you walked, a skip in your step.

When your family first moved to this village, Hongjoong’s family had already lived in the woods and you were a mere 12 years old. You vaguely remembered his parents, mainly his mother. She was gorgeous and had a different kind of beauty than you’d grown accustomed to.

She wore loose gowns and her hair down. She didn’t seem bound to the same rules and regulations the women of your village were, preferring to be free and not hide her natural beauty. The day she passed was a day you’d remember forever. Hongjoong was barely 17 when his mother passed away from some mysterious illness.

You didn’t see him or his father for weeks as they mourned. You had almost thought they left until months later, when you saw Hongjoong’s father speaking to one of the village elders, trading what seemed to be a lot of furs for seed, tools, and a few goats.

After that, you started to see Hongjoong more frequently, trading his own furs as well as various dried herbs he collected himself. You’d always admired him from afar, not feeling brave enough to approach him until one day you ran into him while on a walk with one of your friends from the village. She was apprehensive of Hongjoong but you were not.

You were intrigued by him and his life which seemed like a big mystery to you. Hongjoong was surprised that you weren’t put off by his presence, having grown accustomed to the rumors and the rest of the village avoiding him and his father. He knew what they said about his mother and what they said about him.

You were different though. You treated him with nothing but kindness and respect, something he hadn’t experienced with the other kids in the village. You even offered your condolences about the passing of his mother, telling your friend off when she called his mother a witch.

That day, Hongjoong knew he could trust you. When his father died some months after he turned 18, you were the first person Hongjoong went to, the only person to see his walls break down and cry openly. You’d been there to dry his tears and tell him everything would be alright. You were there to offer him kindness in a dark period of his life and keep him afloat,

That was the day Hongjoong knew he loved you.

From that day on, Hongjoong would sneak into your village and you would sneak out of your house to meet with him. The two of you would sneak around to the forest and venture into the trees. Hongjoong would show you all his favorite spots including a small wildflower clearing. It was here he would show you the stars and tell you about them.

He’d learned astronomy and astrology from his mother. She knew the constellations, planets, and stars and would teach him from a young age. She also taught him about the natural world, something he passed onto you.

As your friendship grew throughout your teens, a romance started to blossom until one night, Hongjoong confessed his feelings for you, sealing it with a kiss. Your first kiss. Compared to the rest of the people in your village, Hongjoong was so different. He wasn’t confined to the same rules that seemed to govern your village.

Hongjoong made it clear he didn’t share the same faith as your neighbors. He believed in something different and he did his best to teach you his beliefs in a way that made sense to you. He felt a strong connection to the earth and nature, something you respected.

The more time you spent with him, the more you started to understand him and his way of life. You wanted to be as carefree and as happy as he was. Your time together grew and often, you would lose track of the time and come home as the sun was beginning to peek through the trees. It was innocent in every way but when your mother caught you trying to sneak in after a night out, you knew you would have to be more careful in the future.

You’d been caught more than a few times but always by your mother. If your father had caught you sneaking back in, your punishments would be much more severe. Your mother usually just tacked more chores on and refused to let you leave the house.

After a few days, your transgressions would be forgiven and forgotten and you’d be back in the woods at midnight to meet Hongjoong again. He was like honey, drawing you in with his sweetness. You couldn’t get enough of him.

As you reached the front door and opened it, you greeted your mother and walked over to where she was boiling something over the hearth. “Mrs. Goode gave us some pastries,” you announced as you walked over and set the bag down. “She loved the jams as did her sister,” you continued as you started putting away the things you’d collected on your errands.

“Did she give you any of those scones she makes?” your mother asked as you turned, bag in hand. “Aye, she did,” you answered, walking over to show your mother the pastries who smiled as you started to empty the bag, placing the pastries in a basket on the mantle of the fireplace.

“What’s this?” your mother asked, noticing the white rabbit pelt. “Oh, nothing. Just a gift,” you answered, turning away and starting to put the rest of the goods away. “Oh?” your mother asked. “From whom?”

Before you could answer, the front door opened and your father entered the house. You excused yourself and headed up to your room to put the rabbit pelt away. The rest of the day you spent inside, helping your mother around the house, mending some of your father’s shirts as well as your mother’s favorite apron.

Once the inside chores were done, you headed out to do some of the gardening and tending to the flower garden but also the small herb garden you’d started after learning from Hongjoong. Your mother was surprised by your skill with the garden but she didn’t complain as she loved having fresh mint and rosemary on hand.

After your chores were done, you were allowed to rest for a bit before you helped your mother in the kitchen prepare dinner so when your father came back from meeting with the other town elders, it would be ready.

It was a simple stew, made even more delicious by your additions from the herb garden and some of the mushrooms you’d foraged on one of your trips to the forest. Hongjoong had taught you everything you knew about the wild plants and edible vegetation that grew there.

Your mother never said anything and was grateful for the additional ingredients most of the villagers didn’t have.

After dinner, you sat down to read a book you were borrowing from the church, something Yeosang had lent you a few days prior. Your mother was seated by the fire, making a new quilt for the upcoming winter season. She’d already finished one for her and your father’s bed but she knew you needed a new one.

Your father sat in his chair at the table, mumbling to himself as he cleaned his pipe. After finishing a few chapters of the book you were reading, you closed the book and looked at your mother. “May I be excused? I am quite tired and if I go to bed now, I can get up earlier and visit the chicken coop to get fresh eggs for breakfast,” you explained. Your mother looked up from her quilting and nodded silently.

“Goodnight then,” you said, getting to your feet and walking over to kiss your mother’s cheek. “Don’t forget your prayers,” your mother said as you walked over to where your father sat and bid him goodnight as well before heading up the stairs to your bedroom.

Once inside, you removed your shoes and pretended to get ready for bed. You climbed into bed, fully clothed and pulled the covers up to hide your plain clothes. You lay there for a few hours before you finally heard your father join your mother in their room, shutting the door. You gave it another hour before deciding it was safe to get up.

Carefully, you pulled your boots back on and grabbed your cloak. You made your way downstairs as quietly as you could before heading for the door. You opened it, careful not to make too much sound and stepped out under the pretense of going to the outhouse.

Once you were outside, you made sure the coast was clear, pulled your hood off and made your way to the forest, avoiding walking where you could be seen. As soon as you were in the trees, you grabbed your skirts and started making the trek to the clearing where you knew Hongjoong would be waiting.

You arrived as the clouds parted, moonlight filling the clearing and allowing you to see everything in the silver light. You could make out a figure sitting in the middle and walked over. You knelt down, throwing your arms around Hongjoong’s shoulders and surprising him.

“Starlight,” he said as he pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “You made it,” he murmured, hugging you tightly. You pulled back to look up at him, giggling as he cupped your face, thumb caressing your cheek before moving to your bottom lip.

“I missed you,” he said softly before closing the distance, pressing his lips to yours. You kissed him back, your hand moving to the back of his neck, fingers curling into his hair. “Sorry,” you said softly. “I got caught sneaking back in the other morning,” you added.

Hongjoong clicked his tongue and smiled at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “You have got to be more careful,” he mumbled against your skin. “I went out the front door this time,” you replied. “I think if she catches me coming in through the door, I can pass it off as going to the outhouse,” you explained. Hongjoong snorted before shaking his head.

“Such a clever girl,” he whispered. You looked skyward. “So,” you said, breaking the conversation. “What constellations do we have to look forward to tonight?”

Hongjoong spent the next couple hours pointing out different celestial bodies, telling you which ones they were and telling you about their properties in astrology. You lay next to one another on a blanket he brought to place on the grass as a barrier between your bodies and the ground. You weren’t sure when but at some point, you fell asleep, face buried in his chest as he hummed a melody, gently stroking your back.

As you awoke, you peered up at him. The moon had shifted in the sky, the light now coming from behind you and illuminating his face. He looked peaceful, eyes shut as he hummed that same lullaby. “Hongjoong?” you asked, your voice breaking the quiet.

His eyes fluttered open before landing on your face, a soft smile gracing his features. “What is it, Starlight?” he asked, his hand stilling on the small of your back. “How long have I been asleep?” you asked earnestly. Hongjoong glanced up at the sky, taking note of the change in the positions of the moon and the stars. “Hmm, maybe about an hour,” he answered.

You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the arm that was tucked under you. “I should probably head back,” you murmured. Hongjoong let out a quiet chuckle, moving his hand up to caress your cheek. “That would probably be for the best,” he hummed.

Neither of you made any attempts to move and you whined, rolling into him, pressing your face into his neck and inhaling his earth scent. “I don’t want to go back,” you whined. Hongjoong let out a low laugh this time, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you against him.

“You never want to, love,” he answered, the pet name sending a flutter through your stomach. “Can’t I just run away and come live with you?” you asked, pulling back to look up at his face. Hongjoong chuckled, leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. “As much as I would love that, Starlight,” he started. “I think your parents might figure out where you are and come to collect you.” You let out a groan of frustration. “Of course they would…”

Your eyes opened as a thought hit you and you quickly sat up, Hongjoong following, a look of concern and confusion etched onto his face. “Starlight?” he asked softly but you turned to look at him, excitement in your eyes.

“What if we both ran away?” you asked, catching him off guard. “We could leave together!” Hongjoong studied your expression as your words hung in the air. “You would do that?” he asked, scooting closer towards you. “You’d leave your village, your people, your family? Leave it all behind for me?” he asked, reaching up to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, eyes shutting as you reveled in the warmth of his hand.

“I would,” you answered. “If it meant I got to be with you always.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. “Do you think we’d make it?” he asked, his hand sliding down to the side of your neck. You nodded, watching his eyes dip down to where his hand rested against your neck. “I think we could make it. Maybe settle in a different part of the forest or even a different village. Maybe on the other side of the mountains,” you continued, feeling his thumb brush against the front of your throat.

“Or maybe we could settle down near the sea,” he countered, looking up to meet your gaze. “Build a little cabin near the shore.” Your lips pulled into a smile. “You’d build me a little cabin?” you asked softly. Hongjoong nodded, leaning closer. “I’d build you a hundred cabins if it pleased you,” he whispered, his lips inches from yours.

You giggled softly. “Now what would I do with a hundred cabins, Hongjoong?” you asked, laughing when he broke into a smile. “Okay, I’ll build you just one. But a really nice one,” he retorted. “One I could always add onto,” he continued, leaning forward and pushing you onto your back. You giggled as he hovered over you, lips barely brushing your own.

“Add on to? Why would you need to add onto the cabin?” you asked as he smiled down at you. “If we decided to expand our family,” he answered, pressing a short, chaste kiss to your lips before kissing a trail down the side of your neck. “Children, you mean?” you asked and he pulled back to look at you, nodding. “Only if you want them, of course,” he replied.

You pulled him down into a kiss, muffling the groan that escaped once you felt his hands on your hips. “I do,” you finally said when he broke the kiss. “I do want your children.” Hongjoong let out a sigh, shifting his body so his hips rested between your thighs. It was the most intimate position you’d been in with him.

“You want to carry my babies?” he asked softly, nipping playfully at the skin of your neck, moving up to whisper heavily in your ear. “You want me to get you pregnant?” he asked, hand sliding under your skirt and dragging his nails up the outside of your thigh. “Want me to do that right now? Make you mine and give you a baby at the same time?”

You let out a giggle as his breath tickled your neck. “Hongjoong! What if someone walks by?” you whispered. He pulled back, giving you a smirk. “No one ever walks past here, Starlight. These are my woods. People know better than to enter my woods,” he replied, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Well, I entered them,” you retorted. Hongjoong let out a chuckle. “You’re the only exception,” he replied. “You’re not just anyone. You’re my guiding star. These woods are just as much yours as they are mine, Starlight.” Your cheeks grew warm at his praise and suddenly, he was sitting up, taking your hand and helping you up.

“It is getting late, sweetheart,” he said as he glanced at the sky. “I don’t want you to get in trouble or not get any sleep before you start your chores in the morning. Come,” he added as he got to his feet, holding out his hand for you to take.

Once you were on your feet, he started to walk you in the direction of the village, taking care to help you over the fallen trees and broken branches until you reached the edge of the woods. Hongjoong turned you to face him, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss. “I hate parting,” he hummed as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“One day we won’t have to part,” you replied, looking up at him. Hongjoong smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Alright, Starlight,” he said softly. “You should head back. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” You nodded, starting to walk away but he held your hand. “I love you,” he said softly, making you break into a smile. “I love you,” you replied.

Once the words left your lips, he let go of your hand and watched as you exited the trees, sneaking around the back of the buildings until he was no longer in sight. As you reached your home, you stopped by the outhouse to do your business before heading back into the house.

Shutting the door, you heard a creak and turned to find your mother standing at the base of the stairs, a candle in her hand. “What are you doing?” she asked in a hushed tone as you removed your hood. “I had to use the outhouse,” you answered. “I woke up with the urge.”

Your mother said nothing, only nodded and then gestured for you to head upstairs. You did so, her following you. As you reached the landing you bid her goodnight and went into your room, shutting the door. You quickly stripped down and put on your nightgown before getting into bed, forgetting your prayers altogether as you fell into a deep slumber.

—————————————————————

The following morning, your mother again asked what you did last night but you reiterated that you got up to use the outhouse. She asked why you were dressed and not in your nightgown and when you were unable to provide an answer, she knew you had snuck out yet again.

“How many times have I told you?” she scolded as you got ready to head to the chicken coop, your mother carrying a basket and accompanying you. “It’s dangerous to go out at night. Only devils, demons, and beasts wander the night,” she continued. “And you are no devil or demon nor beast, are you?”

You shook your head in response as you worked. She tacked on extra work after you collected eggs. You were to milk the goats, clean their stalls, clean the house as well as tend to your gardens and help her with the laundry.

It wasn’t work you weren’t used to and you knew she was only doing it to keep a close eye on you. That night, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sneak out to see Hongjoong but you hadn’t made any plans to meet anyway. The next night you still weren’t able to sneak out without arousing suspicion.

On the third night, you received an unexpected visitor as you got up to get a glass of cider. You could hear your parents snoring in the other room as you tiptoed down the steps, barefoot in your nightgown and made your way over to the kitchen. You had just grabbed the pitcher when you heard a soft tapping on the window behind you.

Turning around, you were met with Hongjoong peering into the window. You gasped, setting the pitcher of cider down and rushed over to the window, carefully unlatching and opening it. “What are you doing?” you hissed at him as he smiled, leaning on the window sill.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in three days,” he whispered back. You glanced towards the stairs before looking back at him. “Mama caught me coming in and saw me in my plain clothes so I couldn’t talk my way out of it,” you explained. Hongjoong’s eyes wandered down to your nightgown before looking back up to meet your gaze.

“Maybe you should sneak out in your nightgown instead,” he whispered, giving you a mischievous smirk. You playfully swatted at him. “I just need to wait until she’s not as on guard before I can sneak out again,” you added. Hongjoong leaned further in, peering into the empty room. “Or I can come in,” he offered. Your eyes widened, brows rising as you placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back slightly.

“That is far too risky,” you replied. He leaned in closer, face near yours. “I promise I’ll be quiet, Starlight,” he whispered. You shook your head again. “No,” you replied, gently pushing him back. Hongjoong pouted but you stood firm, leaning in to kiss him. “I promise I will come see you. How about next week? Saturday night?”

Hongjoong smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “Alright,” he whispered. “I guess it’ll have to do. But don’t forget the week after that. The new moon. I want to show you something amazing.” You smiled, pressing another kiss to his lips. “It’s a date,” you replied.

“Now get out of my window. You’re gonna get me in trouble!” you hissed. Hongjoong chuckled, leaning in one last time for a kiss before he finally pulled away and started to head back to the woods. You shut the window and went back to the pitcher, pouring yourself a glass of cider.

As you sipped it, you heard the stairs creak. Your father appeared at the base of the stairs with a candle. “Oh, you’re up?” he asked. “It’s late. What are you doing up?” You held up the cup of cider. “I woke up thirsty so I came to get some cider,” you answered.

With a nod, your father started for the door, no doubt heading to the outhouse. You finished your drink and set aside the cup before heading back upstairs to your room. As you settled into bed, you heard your father climb the stairs and the door to your parents room shut.

The rest of the week passed by without incident, your mother’s watch grew lax and you were certain you were in the clear. It was the morning of Saturday and you were running errands for your mother once more, checking the market for any sign of Hongjoong but found none.

You were leaving the Smith’s home when a shrill wail sounded from near the well. You turned your head as a crowd started to gather, the elder minister, Jonas, pushing his way through the crowd to get to the epicenter, Yeosang in tow. You froze as the wails continued. You were vaguely able to pick out some words but most of it was a jumbled mess of wailing and cries.

You stepped off the front stoop and slowly made your way over to the crowd. Part of you wanted to see what was going on but you also had to pass by the area on your way back to your home. You stopped at the edge of the crowd, standing on your tiptoes to try and see past the villagers but before you caught sight of anything, you felt a gentle hand on your arm.

Turning your head, you saw Yeosang meet your eyes before he firmly but carefully dragged you away from the commotion. You twisted around to glance back at the crowd but Yeosang continued to pull you away. “Don’t,” he said softly. His voice was quiet but his tone was very firm.

You turned back around and walked with him, avoiding the crowd as you headed home.

“What happened?” you whispered, glancing at him. He shook his head. “Mrs. Collins says something is wrong with her child, the youngest,” he replied, keeping a hand on your back as he guided you towards your home.

“Oh no,” you said softly. “Not the baby, surely?” you asked. Yeosang’s silence confirmed it for you. “She claims it’s some sort of bewitchment,” he continued, a look of disdain crossing his features briefly. “More likely some illness is the culprit.” You looked up at him as he seemed to contemplate something before his attention shifted.

“How are you?” he asked softly. “I’m all right,” you answered. “Been busy and my duties have kept me inside,” you explained. “But hopefully soon, I’ll be able to come out more. I miss the fresh air.” Yeosang stared at you for a moment before a smile spread across his face.

“You miss the forest,” he said. It wasn’t a question. You glanced at him, cheeks growing warm under his gaze. “I know more than you think I do,” he continued. “I’ve seen you coming out of the forest.” Your heart skipped a beat. Your panic must have shown because Yeosang placed a hand on your shoulder. “I would never tell your secret,” he said reassuringly.

“Hongjoong needs a friend and if it's you, then I am happy for the both of you.”

Your heart rate slowed back to normal and you took a deep breath. “What if it’s not just friendship?” you asked quietly, glancing over to where the crowd was now dispersing before looking back at Yeosang.

He studied your expression before speaking in a low voice. “Have you done something that would be considered improper with Hongjoong?” he asked. Your eyes widened. Had you been improper with him? The memory of Hongjoong’s weight on top of you the other night came to mind but that was the extent of it.

You shook your head. “No,” you replied. “Nothing like that. He’s never taken more than a kiss,” you admitted, cheeks burning under Yeosang’s gaze. You missed the look that Yeosang gave initially but he quickly changed it.

“Well if that’s all he’s taking, then I won’t say anything,” he said, his tone light as the two of you continued towards your front door. Yeosang stopped, guiding you to turn towards him and looked around before speaking in a low voice.

“I really am happy that Hongjoong has you but I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you. Please, Y/N, be careful. Not everyone in this village would be so kind or welcoming of your… friendship with him.”

Before you could respond, the door beside you opened and you turned your head to find your mother standing on the other side. She looked from you to the young pastor and back before noticing his gentle grip on your sleeve.

As quickly as she noticed, Yeosang let go of you and stood upright, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him, scrambling for something to say. “Th-thank you for walking me back,” you said quickly, bowing your head. “It’s been a pleasure to talk with you again.” Yeosang gave you a warm smile.

“The pleasure has been mine,” he replied. Without another word, you slipped past your mother who greeted Yeosang before bidding him farewell and shutting the door. She rounded on you as you walked over to the kitchen to unload your haul.

“Do my eyes deceive me or have you been spending time with the youth minister?” she asked, approaching you as she wiped her hands on her apron. You glanced up, noticing her excited expression. “He just walked me home, mama,” you replied. “There was a commotion in the market today and he guided me around it and walked me to the door. That’s all.”

You bustled about, putting away jars and the bread you got from trading, your mother hot on your heels. “Is that who you’ve been sneaking out of the house to see late at night?”

You froze, hand in the bag of pastries as you were putting them away.

‘No,’ your mind said. ‘I’ve been seeing Hongjoong.’

The temptation to tell her the truth was strong but you knew if you did, your mother would never let you out of her sight again. But if she thought you were spending that time with Yeosang? She’d probably encourage it. ‘What’s one harmless lie?’

You turned to look at her, glancing around. “Is father home?” you asked softly, to which your mother shook her head, excitement building again. Taking a deep breath, you merely nodded. Your admission made your mother squeal with delight.

“Oh, he is a fine young man!” she exclaimed as you forced a smile and went about your chores, removing your cloak and grabbing an apron. “He is,” you simply replied, not wanting to feed too much into it. ‘And so is Hongjoong.’

You turned to look at your mother. “So, what can I help with?”

After finishing your chores for the day and preparing for a day of rest on Sunday, you headed out to the garden to bring in some fresh rosemary for your mother to add to dinner. You checked your stores of fungus but found you were running low.

“Oh, it’s alright,” your mother noted as you told her you were almost out of mushrooms. “We don’t have to add them this time.” You removed your apron and donned your cloak, fastening it as you headed for the door. “Nonsense,” you replied. “I know a spot close by where they grow. I’ll be back in a moment.”

You pulled open the door, stepping out into the cool air as the sun was beginning to set. You walked towards the forest, passing houses on your way. “Y/N!” a voice called. You turned to find Nicolas waving you over. You quickened your pace as he said something to one of his friends and made a beeline towards you.

You stifled a groan as he stopped you, blocking your path, grabbing your arm which you pulled back immediately. “Where are you off to so late?” he asked, that signature smirk on his face that made you want to smack it off. “None of your business, Nicolas,” you replied and tried to step around him.

Nicolas matched your movements, letting out a chuckle. “Come on, Y/N. Why do you always shut me out? All I want is to be friends,” he asked, taking a step forward, forcing you to take one back. “I don’t want to be friends with you, Nicolas,” you retorted, voice low and full of ire.

“Why not? I really like you, Y/N. Everyone knows you’re probably going to be my wife one day, so why fight it?” You let out a sound of disgust, pushing him aside and hurrying into the forest, taking one glance back before making your way through the woods on a path you knew well.

Your attempts to lose Nicolas were in vain as he followed you into the trees. “Come on back, Y/N! It’s not safe here at night!” You ignored him, continuing on your path to the small patch where your favorite mushrooms grew at the base of the pines.

Nicolas was hot on your trail as you reached the spot and started searching in the low light for a few good mushrooms. “You’re fast,” Nicolas noted as he stopped to lean against a tree, watching you forage. “What are you doing?”

“Foraging,” you snapped as you found a few mushrooms and started to carefully unearth them. “You really are a strange person,” Nicolas said as he walked over, crossing his arms and leaning against the tree you were currently knelt by.

“You know, this is quite a compromising position,” he said, a chuckle escaping him as you glanced up at him. “There’s nothing compromising about this,” you replied, turning away from him and continuing to collect the mushrooms.

“Oh come on, Y/N,” he said. You felt his hand roughly grab your chin and turn your head to face him. “I know you like me,” he continued. “I know when a woman acts disgusted, it actually means she wants you.”

You jerked your head back, glaring up at him in the dying light of the sun. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “It doesn’t and I don’t know who taught you that but they’re wrong. When a woman acts disgusted it’s because she’s actually disgusted. You are rude, crass, and the last man on this green earth I would ever marry!”

Your voice echoed around the forest as your words set in. Nicolas let out a deep sigh. “I’m tired of waiting for you to come around, I guess I’ll just have to force you,” he snapped. You tried to back away, getting to your feet clumsily as Nicolas made his move.

He forced you back down, kneeling as he grabbed your wrists and tried to force you to the dirt. “Let go of me!” you shouted as he managed to force you down onto the forest floor. You struggled against his hold as he rolled you onto your stomach, taking your hands behind your back as you kicked and tried to scream.

You felt his hand tug at the skirt of your dress, trying to force the hem up and you struggled harder, screaming insults and curses at him. He managed to keep your hands pinned as he started to loosen the ties of his trousers.

“Give in, Y/N, it’ll be more enjoyable,” he huffed.

You wriggled and writhed under him, trying to free your hands or wear him out enough to break free, coughing up dirt and dust as he resumed pulling your dress up. “Don’t touch me!” you growled. “My father will have your head on a pike, Nicolas!”

You heard him chuckled before there was a loud metallic thud and the weight on top of you dissipated. You looked over your shoulder to see a dark figure standing above you and a now unconscious Nicolas, holding a shovel. “Y/N?” a familiar voice asked, the figure moving to kneel beside you.

It was Hongjoong.

You pushed yourself up before collapsing into his arms as the shovel hit the ground. His arms went around you instinctively as you sobbed into his chest. “It’s all right, love, I’m here,” he said softly, stroking your back as you continued to cry.

“Here,” he continued, guiding you to your feet and helping brush the dirt off your dress. “What are you doing here?” he asked, taking your face in his hands. “I was just foraging for some mushrooms,” you said between sobs. Hongjoong clicked his tongue before pulling you in closer. “He f-followed me,” you continued.

Hongjoong glanced down at the unconscious form of Nicolas, his dislike of the man having grown tenfold. He could kill him but he wouldn’t. He would let the villagers decide what to do with him. “Come on, love,” Hongjoong said as he stooped down to pick up your small bag of mushrooms. “Let’s get you home.”

You shook your head. “I want to stay with you,” you objected but Hongjoong pressed a kiss to your forehead, calmly shushing you. “You need to go back home. I’ll walk you. I’ll explain to your parents what happened. I came across Nicolas trying to assault you and stopped him. With the state you’re in, they’ll have no choice but to believe me.”

You nodded slowly as Hongjoong carefully led the way out of the forest. The sun had almost set by the time you reached the village and very few people were still outside, those who were, eyed the two of you as you made your way to your house.

Upon reaching the door, it opened and the worried face of your father turned into confusion when he saw Hongjoong. “If I may explain?” he asked before your father could get a word in. Your father stood in the doorway, eyeing the man for a moment before relenting and letting the two of you in.

Your mother rushed over, gasping at the state of your dress and tear stained face. She guided you to sit down as your father rounded on Hongjoong. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“I know what this looks like but Y/N can vouch for the events. I was coming back from burying one of my goats in the forest when I heard screaming. I followed the sound and found your daughter being attacked,” Hongjoong explained.

“I rushed over and managed to incapacitate the man and immediately helped her up and brought her straight back here,” he continued. Your father turned from Hongjoong to look in your direction. You glanced up, eyes full of tears and nodded. “It’s true,” you added.

“Why were you in the forest alone?” your father asked.

“I went to get some mushrooms, to add to the stew,” you explained, to which Hongjoong handed the small cloth bag to your father. “Nicolas followed me into the forest after I told him to leave me be,” you continued, taking a deep breath.

“Nicolas?” your father asked, turning to look at you fully, brows furrowed in confusion. “Aye, Nicolas,” you heard Hongjoong reply. “He was the one attacking her.” Your father turned to look at Hongjoong. “Why would Nicolas attack her? What could he possibly want?” your father asked. Hongjoong fell silent, hoping the realization would come to your father.

“I asked you a question, boy,” your father snapped. Hongjoong sighed and glanced at you before addressing your father.

“He was trying to force himself on her,” he answered. “He had her pinned down and was trying to –” Hongjoong’s voice cracked. “Are you accusing him of trying to rape my daughter?” your father asked incredulously. “He’s not accusing him,” you interjected. “Nicolas tried to rape me. He pushed me down and tried to lift my skirt and –” your voice faltered as your mother pulled you into her embrace. “If it hadn’t been for Hongjoong, Nicolas would have succeeded.”

Your mother patted your head, shushing you gently as she rocked you. A fresh wave of tears rolled down your cheeks as you sobbed softly. Your father turned to Hongjoong, running a hand over his face. “Where is Nicolas now?” he asked.

“In the forest as far as I know. I hit him with a shovel. He was out pretty good. Still breathing. Unless he came to, he should be right where I left him,” Hongjoong answered. Your father nodded before gesturing to the door. “I will need to go get some of the others but we will need you to show us where Nicolas is,” he continued as he led the way to the door.

You looked up as Hongjoong followed your father. He glanced back at you. “Thank you,” you called out. Hongjoong nodded and your heart ached, yearning to run to him and kiss him for saving you but in front of your parents, all you could do was express your gratitude through your words.

Your father opened the door and just like that, they were gone.

The next morning, you learned from your mother that Nicolas was indeed still where Hongjoong said he was and was still passed out. It took a few of the villagers to carry him through the forest back to the village and that your father had personally thanked Hongjoong for what he’d done.

You were unable to meet with Hongjoong that night and for the next week, your mother kept you inside and away from the forest. She ran your errands instead while you stayed inside. News of Nicolas’ transgression had spread throughout the village and by the middle of the week, the entire village knew what he had done and with the backing of your father’s testimony, Nicolas was to be punished accordingly.

His sentencing came almost a week after the incident. He was to receive fifty lashes, publicly, spend a day in the stock, and receive a brand on the back of his hand. Your father wanted you to attend the sentences being carried out but your mother advocated for you to stay home so you wouldn’t have to see Nicolas again.

Hongjoong’s name was kept out of it all and when your father recounted the tale to the ministers, he testified that you had walked home alone and that an unseen figure had knocked Nicolas out and ran.

It upset you that your father refused to speak a word on the good deed Hongjoong had done but if you said anything about Hongjoong, it could make the townfolk’s beliefs shift in favor of your assailant.

You were checking the pot hanging over the hearth, stirring the stew when you heard a knock at the door. Your parents were out, attending the public whipping so you were home alone. You wiped your hands on your apron and walked over to the door, cracking it open.

At the threshold was Yeosang, he turned quickly as the door opened and he looked relieved upon seeing you. “Can I come in?” he asked softly. You opened the door further, hearing the crack of the whip and cries of pain in the distance.

Yeosang quickly entered the house, allowing you to shut the door and muffle the sounds of torture. Yeosang looked around before turning to look at you. “How are you?” he asked quickly. “I wanted to check on you as soon as I heard.”

You forced a smile. “I’m okay,” you replied softly. Yeosang closed the distance between you, gently lifting your face to look at him. “You don’t have to lie or put on a brave face around me, Y/N. What you went through… I can’t even imagine.”

You pulled back, turning to resume cooking. “It’s okay, really. Nicolas didn’t get far. He was knocked out cold before anything could really happen.”

Yeosang stepped forward cautiously. “Right,” he answered. “The unseen figure in the forest.”

You picked up the spoon and stirred the pot, hoping to distract yourself with cooking. “Your father said you didn’t see who it was but I have a suspicion,” Yeosang said softly, stopping just behind you. “It was Hongjoong, wasn’t it?”

You turned quickly to look up at him. “Please, don’t bring this up. I don’t want to cause any more trouble!” Yeosang held up a hand to calm you before he placed that same hand on your shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” he whispered.

“And you aren’t causing problems. Nicolas made his choices. You did nothing wrong. He has to face the consequences of his actions. Whatever you may think or may have heard, you are not to blame in any of this.”

You nodded slowly as he retracted his hand. “I merely wanted to check on you,” he added, making his way over to the door. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.” You watched as he reached for the door. “Why?” you asked suddenly, catching him off guard.

Yeosang turned to look at you. “Why what?” he asked, seeking clarification.

“Why did you want to make sure I’m all right?” you asked again. Yeosang studied your face for a moment before responding. “Because I care about you, Y/N. I care about you a great deal.”

He gave you a kind smile before bowing his head and opening the door, stepping out and shutting it behind him, leaving you to contemplate the meaning of his words. He cared about you? Did he care about you as a neighbor? As a pastor? Or as a man? Questions consumed your mind as you returned to the stew over the hearth while you pondered.

After dinner that night, you sat in your room, dressed for bed as you stared at the same spot on the floor for what felt like hours. There was a soft knock on your door and you looked up in time to see your mother peer into your room. “Have you said your prayers?” she asked to which you nodded. A lie, but your mother didn’t need to know that. You had much more on your mind than praying.

Your mother entered your room, shutting the door and walked over to sit beside you. “I heard the young pastor came to visit you during Nic- the sentencing,” she said, stopping herself from saying the name. You nodded wordlessly. “He clearly cares a great deal about you,” your mother said, a hint of joy to her voice.

“Perhaps he will ask you to m–”

“I’m really tired, Mama,” you whispered, cutting her off. She fell silent before taking your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course, my dear,” she said, bringing your hand up to place a kiss on the back. “Get some sleep. We have service in the morning.”

She got up and headed for the door, you watching as she opened it. “Mama,” you called out suddenly, making her turn to face you. “I love you,” you said, giving her a small smile. She returned the smile before replying. “I love you, too.”

As soon as the coast was clear, you headed out of the house. With things dying down after the incident with Nicolas, you felt you would be able to visit Hongjoong once again.

You had opted to keep your nightgown on, throwing your cloak over it and headed out of the house, keeping as quiet as possible as you snuck into the forest, following the path to Hongjoong’s place once more.

Upon arriving, you saw that the lights were out and wondered if maybe you should go back but you decided against it, your urge to see him stronger than the urge to let him rest.

He wouldn’t be mad at you for that, would he? He couldn’t.

As you reached the door, the goats were in their shed for the night and made no sound upon your approach, so you were able to actually knock on the door, softly at first.

Either Hongjoong was a light sleeper or he had just settled down for bed because you heard a light shuffling before a dim light emanated from the window. You heard the latch for the door slide and it opened a crack, the light of a candle peering out from the darkness before the door opened wider.

“Starlight?” Hongjoong asked as he realized it was you. “Did I wake you?” you asked softly as he checked the woods around the cabin. “No, no,” he answered before ushering you in. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”

You turned as he set the candle down on the table and moved to light the fire in the hearth. “I just wanted to see you,” you explained as he set a few logs on the growing blaze. “It’s alright, Starlight,” he said with a chuckle.

You moved to kneel behind him as he stoked the fire, trying to get it to grow. He let out a small noise of surprise as you wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I missed you,” you whispered. He grabbed one of your hands, bringing it up to kiss. “I missed you too, Starlight.” The two of you sat there in silence as the crackling of the fire filled the space. Finally Hongjoong started to turn and you released him.

“I haven’t been able to ask,” he said softly, cupping your cheek. “How are you doing?” he whispered, eyes searching your face. “I’m fine,” you answered. “I don’t want to talk about that,” you said softly.

“I didn’t come here to talk about that.” Hongjoong nodded as you got up and walked over to the table. He stood up, following your movements and taking your hand in his, bringing it up to press against his chest where you could feel his heartbeat.

“Then what do you want?” he asked gently, reaching his hand up to caress your cheek. You looked up at him, leaning into his touch before moving your hand up to the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Hongjoong fed into your touch, hands sliding to your waist and pulling you closer as his lips parted yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He tasted like strawberries and you pulled back to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned he’d done something wrong. “You taste like strawberries,” you said softly, eyes dipping to look at his lips. He chuckled before speaking. “I had some before bed,” he admitted.

You looked around. “Do you have any more?” you asked. Hongjoong shook his head. “I ate some of them, the rest I’ve started to pickle,” he explained, nodding towards a set of jars sitting on the mantle of the fireplace.

You pouted before looking back up at him. “I guess I’ll just have to kiss you some more,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. Hongjoong laughed into the kiss as your need grew, hands moving to pull at his shirt. Hongjoong stopped you, pulling back to look at your face.

“What are you doing, Starlight?” he asked, holding your hands still. You tried to pull free and continue. “I want more,” you simply said but he didn’t relent. “Want more what? Starlight, I need you to be absolutely certain you know what you’re asking for.”

You stopped struggling to look at him. “The incident with Nicolas made me realize that I don’t want anyone else, Hongjoong. I want you and only you,” you explained, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Hongjoong’s eyes flickered back and forth between yours.

“Are you absolutely sure, Starlight? Do you even know what you’re asking?” he asked softly as you reached up, caressing his cheek, tracing down to his lips. “I want you to make love to me, Hongjoong,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I want you to make me yours, give me a baby, I don’t care. I just want you to claim me,” you added.

Hongjoong swallowed thickly before he pulled you into a kiss, his tongue slipping back into your mouth, stifling the moan that had been building up in your chest. His hands moved to your hips, guiding you carefully back towards his bed.

“On the bed, sweetheart,” he said softly. You did as he asked, undoing your cloak and letting it fall to the floor before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Hongjoong dropped to his knees, starting to undo your boots and pull them off one by one. He looked up at you, his hands sliding up your legs, pushing your nightgown up to your knees.

“Lie back for me,” he instructed. You did as he asked, propping yourself up on your elbows. Hongjoong guided you back onto the bed until you were in the middle, climbing over you.

“What’re you–” you started to ask but he simply shushed you, his hand moving from your lips and sliding down to your chest. His hand ghosted over your chest, sliding further still, past your stomach until he reached your most private area. He carefully and without breaking eye contact, pulled the hem of your nightgown up.

“I want you to do something for me,” he said softly, licking his lips. You nodded silently, looking up at him. “I want you to touch yourself,” he said, taking your hand and guiding it under your nightgown.

Your cheeks burned under his gaze. “T-touch myself?” you asked softly. Hongjoong nodded.

You thought back to when you’d attempted to touch yourself but had grown both ashamed and frustrated at your inability to make yourself feel good. You nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact with him. “And how did it feel?” he asked, keeping your hands in place. “It was… fine,” you answered, cheeks burning as one of his brows rose questioningly. “Fine?” he asked. “Just fine?”

You nodded. “I don’t think I did it right,” you blurted out, your eyes widening at your own admittance. Hongjoong’s lips threatened to curl into a smile but instead he cleared his throat, tearing his eyes from yours for a moment as he glanced down to where both of your hands disappeared under your dress.

“Show me.”

You nearly choked on your own breath at his command.

“S-show you?” you asked. “Show you what?” Hongjoong leaned in, pressing his forehead to your temple. “Show me how you touch yourself, pet,” he replied softly, his breath hot against your ear. “Show me so I can teach you how to make yourself feel good.”

You glanced up at Hongjoong who was tracing your features with his eyes before meeting your gaze. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked softly. You shook your head. “I… I want this I’m just…” you trailed off. “I’ve never…”

Hongjoong smiled, taking your face in his hand and turning you to look at him. “I know, sweetheart,” he replied. “That’s why I’m taking this slow.” You nodded slowly and cleared your throat, licking your lips. “I don’t know how to start. Should I just–?” you turned to look at Hongjoong but your words were cut off when he pressed his lips to yours.

You moaned into the kiss as he pressed your fingers into yourself, finding the wetness between your thighs. Hongjoong groaned against your lips as he guided your fingers, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You gasped as he guided your fingers to circle the nub, his lips parting yours as his tongue explored your mouth. This was nothing new to you. Hongjoong had kissed you like this plenty of times before but him guiding your hand beneath your skirt was definitely new.

“Go on, darling,” he mumbled against your lips. “Show me how you touch yourself.” You whimpered as your fingers pressed against yourself clumsily. Hongjoong removed his hand, taking your chin in his fingers and pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

An urgency took over, his tongue slipping back into your mouth and dancing against your own as your fingers tried to massage and stroke yourself but it was no use. You weren’t sure what you were doing. It was messy and clumsy and you whined against Hongjoong who pulled back, to meet your gaze. His hand joined yours, fingers guiding yours as he pressed against the bundle of nerves again.

The moment it made contact, your mind went blank. “Feel that?” he whispered as your eyes slid shut. “That’s where you wanna touch,” he continued, guiding your fingers in a circle. “And this,” he added, moving your hand further down, pressing your fingers against your slit. “Is where you can also touch but like this,” he continued, guiding your fingers and pressing the tip into your hole.

You let out a gasp, eyes opening to meet his. “Don’t worry,” he cooed. “We’ll take it slow.”

Hongjoong guided your fingers back up. “This is the clitoris,” he explained, showing you how to massage and circle the nub just enough to give you some pleasure. “Keep going, sweetheart,” he whispered as his hand moved from yours. You watched as he brought his fingers up to his lips, wetting them before his hand disappeared under your skirt.

“Spread your legs for me a little,” he urged, fingers finding your slit when you obeyed. “Good girl,” he cooed.

“This might be uncomfortable at first,” he explained. “But if we’re going to do this, I have to prepare you.”

“Prepare me?” you asked, slowing your ministrations. Hongjoong nodded. “You wanted me to make love to you, right?” he asked to which you nodded. “Then I have to make sure to get you ready. If I don’t, it might hurt you and I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nodded as you looked up at him, cheeks burning and lips wet with both your spit. “Keep going,” he urged and you continued to move your fingers against yourself, letting out a soft whimper as it started to feel good.

You felt the tip of one of his fingers slowly enter your hole and you froze. Hongjoong’s hand stilled. “Don’t tense up, sweetheart. Just relax.” You nodded, trying to will your body to relax against the intrusion.

“Keep touching yourself,” he reminded you. “It’ll help relax you. Try speeding up a little.”

You did as he instructed, letting out a small whimper as the friction increased, a heat starting to spread from the pit of your stomach to other parts of your body. Hongjoong continued to ease his finger inside you, keeping his eyes on your face as he did until he stopped. “Is… is it in?” you asked curiously. Hongjoong nodded. “How do you feel?” he asked. It wasn’t uncomfortable like Hongjoong mentioned. It was a foreign feeling. You’d never felt anything like it before.

“It feels… odd,” you answered. Hongjoong chuckled, carefully pulling his finger back until just the tip was in and before you could ask what he was doing, he moved his finger back inside you, setting a slow pace, pumping in and out of you. “Oh, that’s different,” you whimpered. You felt him curl his finger and you let out a moan at the sensation of his finger rubbing against a soft spongy spot inside you.

“Does that feel good?” he asked softly as he continued to move his finger. You nodded, unable to speak, only whimpering and whining as he continued. After a few moments of this, he pulled his finger back and leaned down, taking your lips in a searing kiss. You squealed into the kiss when you felt his finger reenter you this time with a second one.

“It’s okay,” he murmured as his hand stilled. “I have to stretch you if I’m going to fit,” he continued. “If what’s going to fit?” you asked, breathing heavily. Hongjoong removed his hand from between your legs, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his groin. “You wanted me to make love to you, Starlight,” he replied.

You felt your walls contract around nothing as your hand met something hard. “But for this to be able to fit, I have to do this,” he continued, his hand returning to the space between your thighs, fingers slipping back inside you easily. You let out a moan as his fingers sank into your heat.

“Here,” he muttered, gently nudging your thighs apart. “Spread your legs a little more for me.”

You did as he asked, letting out a moan as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you. The slight sting was quickly replaced with a dull ache which subsided into pleasure not long after. You felt his fingers move, attempting to stretch your walls more. “No matter what, this might hurt,” he continued as he curled his fingers against the spongy spot that had your back arching off the mattress, a whimper leaving your lips as a tension wound tightly in the pit of your belly.

“But I promise I’ll be gentle,” he added.

You let out a whimper, turning your head to bury your face in his chest, making him chuckle as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched you writhe under him. “S-so good,” you whined, fingers digging into the linens of his bed. “Yeah? Feels good?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I think I can do better than that.”

His fingers moved faster, the coil in your body winding tighter and tighter as the pressure built. You let out a gasp as you felt cool air against your naked lower half. Hongjoong had shifted, positioning himself between your legs as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you.

He gave you a mischievous smirk before lowering his gaze, his lips parted, tongue slipping out to wet his lips before you felt his tongue against the bundle of nerves you’d been working earlier but completely lost interest in when Hongjoong’s fingers entered you.

You let out a loud moan, falling back against the bed as his tongue flicked against you expertly, teasing, rolling, and licking against you as his fingers moved in tandem. The coil that had been winding inside you finally broke, the tension in your body finally reaching a breaking point as a rush of heat and wave of pleasure washed over you, spreading from your stomach to the tips of your fingers and toes as you let out a moan, your legs shaking.

Hongjoong continued to lap at the sensitive nub before finally pulling back, his fingers also slipping out of your hole. You raised yourself up, propping up on your elbows as he appeared, cleaning his fingers. The sight alone had a fresh wave of want coursing through your body.

You grabbed the front of his tunic, pulling him into a passionate kiss which surprised not only him but yourself. Hongjoong chuckled as he broke the kiss and pulled you up into a sitting position.

“Let’s get this off you,” he said softly tugging at your nightgown. “But then I’ll be naked,” you replied. Hongjoong chuckled as his hands worked to gather the material. “That’s the idea, love,” he answered. “But you’re still dressed,” you continued.

“Shouldn’t we both be naked?”

Hongjoong chuckled and sat back, looking down at you with the skirt of your nightgown in his hands before he reluctantly let go of it, instead grabbing the back of the collar of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, discarding it quickly on the floor with your cloak and boots.

You’d never seen him without a shirt on before so this was entirely new to you. Before he could continue, you sat up and moved your hand to rest against his chest, feeling his heart thump under your splayed fingers. Your hand moved up past his collar to his shoulder before moving down to his bicep, squeezing gently as your hand explored. Hongjoong tried to push you onto your back but you took control instead, forcing him back and climbing onto him.

Your boldness took him by surprise as you straddled his hips, resting your hands against his chest as you continued to explore with your fingers. Your hands wandered lower and lower, stopping by the ties of his trousers. You looked up to meet his gaze, finding his eyes already watching you.

“Go ahead,” he said softly. You lowered your eyes, hands moving to the ties and undoing them with shaky fingers. Hongjoong waited as you took your time, undoing the ties to his pants before looking back up at him briefly. You scooted back, pulling his pants as you did.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but seeing him completely nude for the first time wasn’t as intimidating or daunting as you were expecting. Your eyes scanned his lean body, taking in his toned abs and thighs. You’d never seen a man naked before so you were unfamiliar with what you were seeing. Hongjoong watched as you reached out carefully, gently placing your hand against his cock as it rested against his stomach.

It was hot against your hand and smooth on the underside. There were a few veins that ran up the sides towards the head, which was darker than the rest. It felt hard and firm in your hand as you wrapped your fingers around it apprehensively. Hongjoong let out a hiss and you started to retract your hand but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t,” he said softly. “It feels good, I promise.”

You nodded wordlessly before lowering your eyes to his length. You wrapped your fingers around it with renewed confidence and gently moved your hand up towards the tip before back down. Hongjoong let out a groan, head falling back against the bed as you moved experimentally.

Before he could say anything you leaned over, giving the tip of his cock a shy lick. The moment of your wet tongue made contact, Hongjoong let out a growl, grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand off him before he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you.

“I’m sorry,” you squeaked out but he shook his head. “Don’t be,” he replied. “I had to stop you. If I didn’t I might have done something that wouldn’t feel good for you. I don’t want to do that for your first time.” You nodded quickly as his hands moved to your waist before starting to gather your chemise in his hands. He finally managed to slide the fabric up and remove it entirely, letting it fall to the side and leaving you completely bare before him.

His eyes scanned your body, taking in every detail and committing it to memory. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured as his hands moved to your knees, pushing your legs apart as he leaned forward. “So, so beautiful,” he continued, pressing a short kiss to your lips before his kisses continued down the side of your neck and to your chest. You let out a gasp as you felt his wet tongue against your nipple, letting out a whine as he suckled softly, his hand moving up to knead your other breast as he flicked his tongue over the pert bud in his mouth.

He let it fall, pressing kisses across your chest before repeating the same motions, swirling his tongue around your nipple and taking it gently into his mouth. You could feel the tip of his cock prod firmly at your thigh, eager to be buried inside you. It was hot and pulsated.

“Hongjoong,” you whimpered, one of your hands moving to comb through his hair as he let your nipple fall from his lips. “Yes, kitten?” he asked softly, looking up to meet your gaze. “Are you going to fuck me?” you asked, uncertain where the confidence came from. Hongjoong drew level with you, taking your chin in his hand firmly.

“Where did you learn such filthy language?” he asked. You let out a gasp as you felt the tip of his cock press against your slit. “And no,” he answered. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He reached between your bodies, taking his length firmly in his grasp and guiding the head to your slit.

“I’m going to make love to you,” he continued, pressing into you, the head of his cock slipping into you without much restraint. “Because you’re mine, starlight. You’re mine and I’m yours,” he added as he slid into you, slowly stretching your walls. It stung only a little as he bottomed out, stilling as he allowed your body to adjust to the intrusion which was significantly more than two of his fingers.

“H-Hongjoong,” you whimpered as your walls contracted rhythmically around his cock. “Yes, my love?” he murmured in your ear, his hot breath hitting your neck. “I’m okay,” you said softly. “You can move.” Hongjoong pressed a few kisses to your neck, ignoring the thin layer of sweat that was starting to cover both of your bodies.

He pulled back slowly, keeping his eyes on your face for any sign of discomfort. He gave you a shallow tentative thrust, his cock filling your walls quickly. The motion had you gasping but you waved him on. It wasn’t painful, just an entirely new experience. Hongjoong set a slow, steady pace, thrusting into you carefully so as not to hurt you.

“Hongjoong,” you whined. “Please don’t hold back. I’m okay,” you encouraged him. He shook his head. “You really don’t want that, sweetheart,” he warned you. “If I don’t hold back, I might hurt you.” You reached up, cupping his cheek. “I want to experience everything you can give me, please, Hongjoong,” you pleaded.

“Please give me everything. Don’t hold back.”

Hongjoong let out a groan, his head dropping into the crook of your neck. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice muffled. You nodded, your fingers curling into his hair. “Make love to me the only way you know how.”

Hongjoong let out a huff, one of his hands moving to the back of your thigh and pushing it forward against your side, allowing him to sink further into you. You let out a gasp and the new angle and before he really let go, he nuzzled your nose with his. “Hold onto me,” he instructed. You did as he said, wrapping one arm around his neck.

Once he was certain you were secure, he didn’t hold back, his hips thrusting into you hard, making you cry out from the intensity. The sound of his skin hitting yours filled the cabin, drowned out only by your moans and cries of pleasure as he slammed into you, pounding you into the mattress below.

“Oh, g– oh yes. F-feels so good,” you whimpered as his cock hit against the spot that had you seeing stars earlier. “Yeah? You like it? Like it when I fill this sweet little cunt?” he asked in a growl. Your walls fluttered around him, attempting to suck him in and keep him buried inside your warm walls forever.

“Look at your greedy little hole. Trying to suck me in. You want me to bury my cock inside you and never leave, huh?” he asked. You’d never heard such filthy language before but when Hongjoong said it, it only increased the pleasure you were feeling. “Yes,” you gasped. “I love it! I want it all the time!”

Hongjoong let out a low laugh, almost a scoff as he continued to fuck into you, his hips hitting yours. “Such a good girl, letting me fuck her like this in my bed. I wanted to take it slow and make love to you all night but you were just so impatient. Needed me to fuck you like a bitch in heat. Isn’t that right?”

You let out a wanton moan at his words. “Yes. I am!” you cried out.

“What are you?” Hongjoong asked, his thrusts growing more erratic as he neared the edge. “I’m a bitch in heat. I’m your bitch in heat!” you answered. Hongjoong let out a low groan, his hips stilling as he pulled out of you quickly. You barely had time to register what was happening before he had you on your stomach, legs spread, back end propped up as he re-entered you and slammed into you roughly.

You cried into the sheets as he fucked into you harshly, hips slapping against your ass as he burried his cock deep inside you with every thrust. “You’re my bitch? Letting me fuck you like this. I bet you’ll let me fill you up too, right? You gonna let me breed you, darling? Fill you with my seed?” You whimpered into the sheets, unable to speak. You felt Hongjoong’s hand around the front of your throat as he pulled your head up.

“Let me hear you say it. Say you want me to fill you up and breed you,” he repeated. “Say it.”

“P-please Hongjoong,” you gasped. “F-fill me up. Breed me like a bitch in heat. Fill me with your seed-!”

You let out a gasp as you felt Hongjoong’s teeth sink into your shoulder as he came with a groan, burying his cock as deep as he could as his release spilled inside your walls, coating it and filling every crevice with each pump.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his voice hoarse as he pushed your chest against the bed. “Take all of it,” he growled, giving you a thrust. “Be a good girl and take all of it.”

You tried to catch your breath as you both came down from your respective highs. Soon, Hongjoong was pulling out of you and the next few minutes were a blur of him cleaning your skin with a damp cloth, whispering sweet praise in your ear about how well you did and how much he loved you.

Once you managed to calm yourself and regain your breathing, you lay in his bed, covers pulled up as you lay on your side, looking at Hongjoong who stared back at you. “You really are the most beautiful person I think I’ve ever seen,” he said softly, reaching out to caress your cheek. “No prettier than you are,” you answered.

Hongjoong let out a shy chuckle before leaning in to kiss you. Your hands started to wander and he stopped you as you rolled him into his back. “Patience, love,” he said as you pressed kisses against his cheek and neck, kissing down to his collar before he stopped you. “The sun will be rising soon,” he said softly, caressing from your temple to your chin and back, cupping your cheek.

“As much as I would love for you to stay and wake up to this beautiful face in the morning, your parents will not be pleased if they find your bed empty.” You sighed sadly, dropping your head onto his chest. “I don’t want to go back…” you whispered. Hongjoong sat up, propping himself up on his elbows. “I know, love,” he said, lifting your head to look at him.

“But give it a few more months. Let me save up so we can leave this place together. We can find a place to settle down. Maybe near the sea. We can start a life together.” You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “Okay,” you answered finally, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. “Let’s get you dressed,” he said as he helped you up.

Once your clothes were back on, he quickly and carefully led you out of the cabin and towards the village, stopping at the edge of the forest. He pulled you towards him, hidden behind one of the large trees. “What are you–” he cut you off with a kiss, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. Breaking the kiss, you looked up into his eyes before taking a deep breath. “I love you,” you whispered. He took your face in his hands. “You mean it, Starlight?” he asked softly.

You nodded, looking up at him, his face partially illuminated by the light of the moon. “Do you love me?” you asked, not caring how naive you sounded. Hongjoong’s lips curved into a smile. “I love you more than the stars love the moon,” he answered. “I love you more than the moon loves the night. You’re my everything,” he continued.

“I meant it earlier when I said give me time to save up so we can leave this place together. I want a life with you,” he added. “I want to marry you, give you a home, and children. I want our happily ever after. I just need time.”

You nodded, trusting him entirely. “I understand. Just a few months and then we can go. Run away and leave this place behind.” Hongjoong pulled you into a kiss. “You need to go before your parents discover you gone,” he said when he pulled back. “Can I come see you tonight?” you asked softly. Hongjoong shook his head, chuckling. “So eager to see me again? Get your chores done, Starlight. Come see me in a few days.”

You nodded, starting to part before rushing back and kissing him again. Hongjoong chuckled softly, pushing you gently in the direction of your house. “Go, my love. Don’t get caught!” he whispered and you reluctantly left him behind and snuck out of the tree line, making a break for your house.

You managed to sneak back to the window you’d used to leave earlier. Once you were back in your room and in bed, you lay awake, reliving the moments of the night. The way Hongjoong touched you, kissed you, and made love to you. You knew that you would never want to be with another soul. Hongjoong was the one.

—————————————————————

Your parents didn’t confront you about your nightly escapade and so you felt as though you might be in the clear. A week passed by during which you continued to sneak out to see Hongjoong. As your love deepened, so did the sexual relationship between you. The second time you found yourselves in his bed, he was much gentler than he had been that first time, wanting to make it up to you though he had nothing to make up for.

Things in the village hadn’t changed much. Folks crops were still going bad before the harvest, livestock was getting sick and dying but your time with Hongjoong just strengthened the claim he was not to blame. How could he when he spent most of his days either tending to his garden, foraging, or hunting?

On the rare occasion that you were allowed to leave the village during the day, you joined him in the forest to forage. He showed you where to collect berries that were safe to eat and sweeter than anything you’d eaten before. He also helped you gather different herbs for cooking but also for healing, showing you how to prepare them into pastes and balms.

Hongjoong had so much knowledge to give and you were eager to learn, something he always appreciated.

You had spent a better part of the afternoon in the forest with Hongjoong and after stealing a few kisses, he sent you on your way back to the village so you wouldn’t get into trouble for being out too long. Upon returning home, you saw your father was not there but your mother was.

She greeted you as you entered, basket in hand. “What’s that?” she asked as you set the basket down and removed your hood. “Berries and a few herbs from the forest,” you said simply as you uncovered your fruits of labor. Your mother walked over to inspect the haul and watched as you picked up a berry and held it up for her.

“It’s sweet, go on, try it,” you encouraged. Your mother took the berry apprehensively and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before her eyes widened in shock. “Those are so sweet,” she noted as you smiled widely and started to pull out the herbs to dry.

“Where did you find those?” your mother asked as you moved about the kitchen. “There’s a small clearing not far where the berries grow on bushes in a huge cluster,” you explained. “They’re good for eating and for making jams or pies,” you explained. Your mother watched you before she spoke up.

“And where did you learn this from?” she asked, making you hesitate. Your entire village was aware of Hongjoong’s existence but you weren’t sure if your mother put any stock into what the villagers were saying about him. “A friend,” you said softly, hoping she would drop it.

“A friend?” she asked and you merely nodded as you started to collect the berries in a jar. “Would this friend happen to be the man who lives in the woods?” You froze, setting the jar down to avoid dropping it. “And if it is?” you asked quietly as your mother approached.

“That man is not to be trusted,” your mother started, taking your arm gently but you pulled back, looking at her. “Says who?” you asked, a surge of confidence coursing through you. “Because he is a witch,” your mother answered, looking indignant at your sudden rebellious nature.

“They only call him that because he was raised differently than we were,” you retorted. “Hongjoong is not a bad person, Mother,” you explained. “He just knows more about the forest and natural medicine. That doesn’t make him a witch!” Your mother shook her head.

“He’s a witch, Y/N,” your mother repeated. “He consorts with demons and devils in the dark of night!”

You shook your head this time. “No he doesn’t, Mother! He doesn’t even believe in demons. He’s just a man who lives a little differently than we do. He’s not evil, he doesn’t make pacts with devils in the dead of night. He studies the stars,” you continued to explain.

Your mother looked absolutely horrified. “Has he been teaching you this devil work?” she demanded and you sighed. “No, Ma,” you answered. “It’s not the devil's work. It’s just the stars. The ancient Greeks and Romans studied the stars and their movements, they weren’t branded as heretics so why is Hongjoong being branded as one?”

Your mother opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a knock at the door. Your mother threw one last look of concern your way before moving to answer the door. You peered over her shoulder from where you stood to find the visitor on your doorstep was none other than Yeosang.

“Oh, hello Pastor,” your mother greeted. Yeosang smiled warmly at your mother. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I was wondering if I might borrow Miss Y/N for a moment? I have something to discuss with her. It won’t take too much of her time and she’ll be back to her errands as soon as I’m done.” Your mother turned to look at you and nodded.

“The pastor would like to see you, Y/N,” your mother said, making her way back over and taking the jar of berries. “Best go see what he wants. I’ll finish this,” she said as she nudged you gently. You wiped your hands on the cloth and headed for the door where Yeosang stood.

You followed him out of the house, shutting the door behind you as you walked. “Has something happened?” you asked as he led you away from the prying eyes. “No, nothing like that,” he answered, walking out of sight of the market with you following.

“Yeosang, what is–”

“You need to be more careful, Y/N,” he said suddenly, glancing around quickly before looking back at you. “What?” you asked softly. “You need to be more careful. Coming out of the forest at night, anyone could see you and who you’re with.”

Your eyes widened as it dawned on you what he was implying. “Y-you saw me?” you asked. Yeosang nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m not going to say anything, you know that, but you really need to be more mindful of the fact that anyone could have seen you. You’re lucky it was me and not someone like Jonas or Gideon.”

You nodded silently. “That would not bode well,” you said softly.

“No,” Yeosang answered. “It would not.”

You looked up at him. “Thank you,” you said softly. “For not saying anything.” Yeosang bowed his head. “You know,” you started as he walked you back to your door. “My mother thinks you are interested in me,” you continued. Yeosang looked at you, bewilderment on his face. “Does she?” he asked, fighting the urge to smile.

You nodded. “It’s really thanks to you that I’m not in more trouble. Mama thinks I’m sneaking out at night to see you.” Yeosang fought the urge to laugh. “Well, if it gives you your freedom,” he said as you stopped by the door. “Then I’m happy to help.”

You thanked him again and bid him farewell before heading back into the house, dodging your mother’s questions as you went about your chores.

The following Sunday morning the entire village gathered for Sunday service. You sat between your parents in the back, pretending to listen as Jonas droned on about sin and forgiveness. You often mentally clocked out of these services considering you didn’t really play into this particular branch of faith anymore. Not since meeting Hongjoong.

After Jonas said his bit, Yeosang got up and spoke about the importance of forgiveness but reminded everyone that forgiveness doesn’t come easily. He also added that forgiving someone isn’t for their benefit, it’s for oneself.

When service finally ended, you felt even more drained than you did before attending. As you filed out with your parents, Yeosang stopped you. “How are you holding up?” he asked, ignoring the looks from the other villagers, namely your parents.

“I uh… I’m fine,” you said softly, uncertain as to why he was checking in again, especially in such a public setting. You saw the look of confusion pass over your father’s face as he looked from you to Yeosang curiously but your mother managed to nudge him along.

Yeosang gently pulled you to the side where no one could hear before speaking. “I know we spoke yesterday but I wanted to offer if you ever want to talk to someone, I’m here for you. As a friend,” he continued. “Nothing more.”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Thank you,” you replied. “I appreciate it.”

You thanked him once more before joining your parents outside for the walk home. “What did he want?” your father asked, eyeing you suspiciously. “Nothing,” you answered. “He just wanted to check in. Make sure I’m okay.”

Your father fell silent but your mother had a knowing smile on her face.

The rest of the day passed in a blur but without work to do, you felt extremely bored and restless. Getting up, you walked over to the door. “Where are you going?” your father asked loudly. “For a walk,” you replied, grabbing your cloak. “I can’t just sit around. I’m too restless,” you added as you fastened your cloak.

“Stay out of the forest!” your father called as you opened the door and stepped outside.

The village was mostly deserted, no doubt the villagers sitting inside their homes as your family had. You glanced in the direction of the forest but turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Your walk took you around the entire village before you returned home but you weren’t ready to go back inside and just sit so instead you walked towards the forest, stopping at the tree line to look up. The wind blew through the treetops that stretched towards the gray sky.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply as the breeze swirled around you, a cold shiver running through your body. The calm was interrupted by a shrill scream and your eyes snapped open, turning your head in the direction of the sound. You looked around but saw no one, not even at the windows.

You heard another shrill scream and sighed, making your way in the direction of the sound. You crossed the village square, passing between two houses to the space behind. You heard a shuffling sound coming from one of the pens behind the house.

You glanced around before making your way over, stepping cautiously.

There was a loud piercing cry ringing out from one of the sheds behind the house closest to the forest. You walked over, leaning over to peer into the darkness of the small pig shed. As you drew closer, you stopped at the fencing.

There was a loud crunching sound and you glanced around once more before pushing open the gate, letting it shut behind you and making your way over to the shed. You took a deep breath and leaned over, peering into the small quarters.

What came into view was nothing short of horror. The pigs in the shed were all dead, slaughtered by some dark creature that sat in the corner munching on what you assumed was another dead pig. You watched in horror as it turned its head, red eyes glowing as it stared, its gaze burning into yours. Before you could scream, your eyes popped open and you sat upright, gasping as you looked around.

You were in your bed, safe and sound. ‘A dream?’ you wondered as you glanced around. How long had you been asleep? When had you even gone to bed?

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and got up, walking over to the window that looked out over the back yard, darkness creeping into the space behind your house and between the trees. It was almost night time. You looked towards the sky and a voice came to your mind. Hongjoong’s voice.

‘The new moon is in two weeks. I have something I’d like to show you.’

“The new moon is tonight,” you whispered, scanning the sky. Without another word, you headed for the door, opening and making your way downstairs where your parents were just sitting down for dinner. “Oh,” your mother said, quickly standing up. “You’re awake. Let me get you a bowl.”

You walked over to the kitchen. “I can get it,” you said, urging her to sit down. “We weren’t sure if you were going to wake up,” your father said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Your mother walked over as you filled a bowl with stew from the pot. “Are you feeling well?” she asked, feeling your forehead. You nodded silently.

“I was just tired after service. I’m fine, really.”

You moved to sit across from your father, setting your bowl down as your mother poured you a cup of cider. Once she was back in her seat, she reached for your hand, taking your fathers and bowed her head. You followed suit but kept your eyes open, staring at the table as your father said grace.

Dinner was a silent affair as you ate with only your mother occasionally asking your father questions. Once dinner ended, you helped clean up before excusing yourself to your room. You sat on your bed for a few minutes before changing into your nightgown. You were still planning on going out after your parents went to bed but you needed to play the part of going to bed. You’d just wear your cloak over your gown.

Before bed, your mother checked in on you once more and only after reassuring her you were okay, just tired, she finally left and went to bed. You waited until you heard them both snoring before you carefully grabbed your boots and snuck downstairs, grabbing your cloak and slipping your boots on.

You opened the door, grabbed one of the lanterns, and headed outside, pulling your cloak on and making your way around to the backside of your house and snuck through the shadows to the edge of the forest where you lit the lantern and kept the light low before making your way into the forest. You weren’t sure if Hongjoong was at the clearing so instead of making your way there, you headed for his cabin, carefully stepping over branches.

You followed the usual path to his cabin and noticed the light coming from the window.

You reached the gate, pushing it open and shutting it behind you so the goats didn’t get out. You were greeted by a chorus of bleating. As you reached the door, it opened and Hongjoong appeared, looking shocked as you reached the threshold, a smile on your face.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, stepping back to let you in. “It’s the night of the new moon,” you reminded him as you set your lantern down. “You said you had something you wanted to show me tonight.” Hongjoong’s confusion dissipated and he smiled. “The new moon was last night, Starlight,” he said, crossing the distance, taking your face in his hands before kissing you. You pouted into the kiss. “So you can’t show me?” you asked.

Hongjoong chuckled before moving to grab his coat. “I think I can still show you,” he replied. He grabbed your lantern and opened the door. “But we have to hurry,” he added. You grabbed the skirt of your gown and hurried out the door.

Hongjoong led the way, stopping to help you over the fallen trees and branches., offering his hand for the larger logs. After traversing the forest for some time, Hongjoong stopped, turned down the light on the lantern and set it on a tree trunk. “We’ll grab it on our way back,” he said softly, taking your hand and leading you into the clearing.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you. The clearing, which was void of moonlight, was full of thousands of what seemed to be glittering stars that danced and moved about. You turned to look at him. “What are they?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Fireflies,” he answered, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Thousands upon thousands of fireflies.” You reached a hand out as one of the lights floated towards you, a small insect landing on your palm.

“They’re beetles,” he explained. “They create the glow to attract mates.” You felt his hand on your stomach slide down slightly, his other hand resting on the side of your waist. “They glow and fly in a special way that attracts another for the sole purpose of mating.”

You felt his lips on your neck. “So they dance?” you asked softly. Hongjoong let out a chuckle, smiling against your skin. “Yes,” he answered. “They dance.” His hand slid lower and lower until you felt him start to pull the hem of your skirt higher.

“What’re you doing?” you murmured, giggling as his breath tickled your neck. He turned you to face him, cupping your face as he examined your features in the dark. “Loving you,” he said simply, closing the distance and kissing you.

You allowed him to guide you down to the ground, letting out a gasp as his hand slipped under your nightgown, finding your core with ease. You let out a whimper as he dragged his fingers through your folds, finding your clit with precision.

“Just lie back, Starlight,” Hongjoong whispered, drawing circles against the nub before dipping his finger down to your entrance. “Let me make you feel good, yeah?” he whispered. His lips pressed against your as he slid his finger into your wet cunt.

You moaned against his lips, lips parting and allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. He set a steady rhythm, pumping his finger in and out of you before adding a second, gliding them both into your warm walls.

“I really would love to take you back to the cabin,” he murmured, pressing wet kisses against your cheek towards your ear. “But I’m not a patient man. I want you too bad right now.” You stifled a groan by biting your bottom lip as he curled his fingers, brushing against the soft spongy spot inside you.

“Th-that’s okay,” you managed to breathe out. “I don’t mind.”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “That’s my girl,” he replied, curling his fingers again, moving faster and bringing you closer to the brink of orgasm.

Just as you were about to fall over the edge, he stopped, abruptly pulling his fingers from you. “Hongjoong, wha–” you started to ask but he pressed a hand over your mouth as he cleaned his fingers. “We’re not alone,” he whispered. “Stay here and stay quiet.”

You nodded as he got to his feet and started to walk a short distance away. You could hear twigs snapping underfoot but knew it wasn’t coming from Hongjoong. After a few moments of footsteps and twig snapping, you finally heard a voice speak. It was Yeosang.

“Oh, Hongjoong,” he said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “I thought I might find you here,” he continued. “What do you want, Yeosang?” Hongjoong asked, cutting straight to the point. “I went to your cabin to find you but it was empty,” Yeosang started.

“I asked what you wanted Yeosang,” Hongjoong interrupted. You could tell by the tone in his voice he wasn’t playing games. You heard Yeosang sigh from where you sat. “Look, I know you aren’t responsible for what’s going on in the village,” Yeosang started. “But you need to stop whatever spells you are doing. At least until this blows over. The villagers are getting restless. They think you’re cursing them.”

Hongjoong scoffed and you could hear him shift his weight. “I really couldn’t care enough about them to curse them, you know that, Yeosang,” he retorted. You could picture the look on Yeosang’s face. The kind smile he always bore.

“I know that,” he replied. “But they don’t. All I’m saying is you need to be careful. If not for my sake or your own, at least for Y/N,” he added. You couldn’t see Hongjoong in the darkness but you could imagine him tensing up.

“What do you know about my relationship with Y/N?” Hongjoong asked. “Only that you’re… friends,” Yeosang answered, using the same emphasis he had with you. “And I know she cares about you. I also care about you. Just… think about it, okay?”

Hongjoong said nothing but you were certain Yeosang didn’t need him to. “Have a good evening,” Yeosang said softly and then a moment later, you could hear his footsteps lead away from the clearing until you could no longer hear him over the sounds of the forest around you.

Moments later, Hongjoong return to you, kneeling down. “We should probably head back to the cabin,” he said softly. You pouted in the darkness. “I wanted to stay here,” you admitted. Hongjoong chuckled, taking your hands and helping you up.

“So we can draw more attention like that?” he asked softly. “No,” he shook his head as he kept a hold of your hand and led you back towards the trees. “I’ll just be boring and make love to you in the safety of my cabin, in the comfort of my bed.”

You giggled as he led you back, grabbing the lantern as he passed the stump. “It would have been more romantic if we stayed in the clearing,” you mumbled as Hongjoong led the way back. “Another time, my love,” he said softly. “You promise?” you asked.

Hongjoong came to a stop, pulling you closer and taking hold of your chin, tilting your head back. “I promise,” he replied before kissing you. He took your hand and led you through the forest back to his cabin where you knew you’d be safe, warm, and where no one would bother you.

—————————————————————

Your sleep was interrupted the following morning by the sound of your mother opening your door. “Y/N,” she said sternly as you opened your eyes, sitting up and looking around wildly. Did you sleep too late? What was going on?

“Wh-what’s wrong?” you asked as she bustled about, grabbing your clothes. “Get dressed, hurry,” your mother said, setting your clothes on your bed before she exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

You dressed quickly, now aware of the sound of yelling coming from outside your house. You pulled your boots on and hurried down the stairs where your mother stood by the window next to the door, peering outside looking nervous.

“What’s going on?” you asked, joining her and looking out the window. “I’m not sure,” she replied. “But something bad must have happened.” You watched as a crowd gathered and you could see the familiar outline of Yeosang. You darted for the door, ignoring your mother’s warning hisses of your name and opened it, stepping out into the misty morning.

Outside, you could hear the yelling much more clearly.

“Someone has killed my pig! Gutted her and took her head!”

You froze by the door as you listened to the clear voice of Gideon.

“My poor Eliza opened the door and found the head sitting there, propped up like some kind of prank!” Just under his voice, you could hear a woman sobbing, no doubt Eliza from finding a decapitated pig head.

“It’s the devil’s work, I tell ya!” another voice said, one you recognized to be Josiah. “Witches!” a woman’s voice rang out. Your heart skipped a beat as more and more villagers chimed in, laying bare their own misfortunes.

“My vegetables have gone bad before even ripening! This isn’t normal!”

“Witches are responsible!”

“They must be!”

“I’ve lost two goats this month alone! Someone’s cursed the village for sure!”

“People please!” another voice rang out. This one you recognized to be Yeosang. “We don’t even know if this is witchcraft!” he continued, ignoring the cries of the villagers. “Hysteria will not help our situation!”

The crowd started to protest, a mixture of angry to panicked cries. The voice of Jonas rang out over the crowd. “Pastor Kang is right. Hysteria will not solve this! The church will conduct an investigation to determine if the source is indeed witchcraft.”

“Investigate the hermit in the woods! He’s probably the culprit!”

You felt anger surge through your body at the mention of Hongjoong. “He’s not a hermit!” another voice rang out. “I’ve seen him at the morning markets trading and selling furs and herbs!”

“He’s a witch!” one voice rang out and you recognized it to be Abel. “His mother was a witch! She probably passed it on to him!”

“Yeah! Witch!”

Your heart rate quickened as the villagers started to shout in the affirmative, calling Hongjoong a witch. Before you could even start towards the crowd. Yeosang spoke up again. “Let’s not point fingers until we know for certain!”

His words fell on deaf ears as more people started to shout. You watched Yeosang turn to Jonas, a pleading look on his face. Jonas finally spoke up. “That’s enough! We will conduct an investigation and if we find evidence of witchcraft, we will question this man but until then, everyone go about your business and leave this matter to the church!”

There was a subtle murmur throughout the crowd as it started to disperse, clearly placated enough to calm down. You watched as everyone went their separate ways until Yeosang appeared.

He met your gaze and immediately started walking in your direction. You glanced around as he approached and gently took your arm, guiding you away from sight before he turned to speak.

“I need you to do something for me,” he said softly. You nodded, watching him as he glanced around once more. “I need you to stay out of the forest,” he explained. You opened your mouth to protest but he held up a hand.

“Not forever,” he added. “I know you won’t stay away from Hongjoong that long. I just need you to stay out of the woods until the investigation concludes and we prove that it’s not witchcraft to be blamed. I really don’t want you getting mixed up in this mess. I know Hongjoong would agree with me,” he added when he noticed you were about to say something.

“Just for a few days,” he continued. “Please, Y/N.”

You sighed heavily and nodded. “Fine,” you answered. “But I still want to warn Hongjoong,” you said quickly. He contemplated for a moment before nodding. “All right,” he said. “I think that would be best.”

You turned to start back towards your house but turned back to face him, taking his hand in yours. “Thank you, Yeosang,” you said before letting go and heading back home.

That night, you did exactly what you said you were going to do. Once night fell and your parents were asleep, you snuck out and made your way to Hongjoong’s cabin without stopping once.

Once you arrived, you shooed the goats out of your way and pounded on the door in quick succession. It only took Hongjoong a moment to reach the door and open it.

“Y/N, what the—” Hongjoong said as he opened the door, looking over your state.

“The villagers are blaming you for their crops,” you explained quickly. Hongjoong took a step back, allowing you inside before he glanced around outside and shut the door, turning to face you. “What’s going on with their crops?” he asked. “They’re going bad before harvest,” you replied.

Hongjoong shook his head, a scoff leaving his lips. “Have they never heard of pests?” he joked as he moved across the cottage to the hearth. “Hongjoong, this is serious!” you said as he started to bustle around. “Take a seat,” he said softly, ignoring your concerns.

“Hongjoong!” you exclaimed. “They think you’re a witch and that you’ve cursed them!”

Hongjoong sighed and turned to face you, a black cast iron kettle in his hand. “They’re going to think what they’re going to think, Starlight,” he replied. “These are uncertain times and people are guided by their fear,” he continued, moving to pour the contents of the kettle into two cups before returning the kettle to the fireplace.

You watched as he picked up both cups and moved to the table, setting them both down. “Have a seat, Y/N,” Hongjoong urged gently, sitting down. You finally relented and moved to sit adjacent to him. “I’ve spent my whole life with these allegations,” Hongjoong continued as you peered into the cup before you. “I’ve been called a witch all my life. This is nothing new,” he added, giving you a warm smile.

“It just scares me that they could retaliate wrongly and you could get hurt,” you said softly. “You mean a lot to me, Hongjoong, and the thought of losing you--” you trailed off, tears starting to form in your eyes. You heard wood against wood as Hongjoong shifted his chair to move closer before he took your hands in his. “I’m so thankful that you care about me so much, Starlight,” he said softly.

“But you needn’t worry,” he continued. “Besides, you know they’re right. I am a witch.” You looked up at him in time to catch a wink he sent your way. “But that hasn’t stopped you from being my friend. It hasn’t deterred you from spending time with me. You don’t think any differently of me.”

You shook your head. “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, Hongjoong,” you said softly. “Even more so than my own community. I’ve never met someone like you.”

Hongjoong moved his chair directly across from yours, closing the distance between you. “And that’s all I could ever want. You’re the only person in that entire village whose opinion I care about. The others could continue to spread lies and as long as you don’t believe a word of it, that’s all that matters to me.”

You sighed, taking his hand in yours. “I’m just worried what they might do with the allegations. They might act on them, Hongjoong and if they did, I don’t know what they might do!”

Hongjoong set his mug down and took your chin in his fingers, tilting your head back to press a kiss to your lips. “You worry too much, Starlight,” he said softly once the kiss broke. “The village folk have been calling me a witch for years and nothing has come of it,” he continued. You shook your head.

“Yes, but this time, things are actually happening, Hongjoong! They have real reasons to try to blame you for this!” you said exasperatedly. You didn’t understand why he wasn’t more upset about this. Hongjoong let out a sigh. “Alright,” he said softly. “Will it please you if I promise to be more careful and stay out of the village for a few days? Just until things blow over?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. All you wanted for him to be safe. Hongjoong wasn’t just your friend. You loved him. You wanted him to stay safe. “Drink your tea,” Hongjoong said softly, stroking your cheek before he picked up his mug and downed the rest of his and got up.

“I don’t want you to be caught out late again. You can only lie to your mother so many times,” he added as he moved to rinse out his mug. “It’s still kind of early,” you murmured. “I thought I might stay for a bit. I missed you.”

Hongjoong set his mug aside and walked over to where you sat, taking his seat again and leaning in. “You’re so cute,” he said softly, kissing your cheek before getting up and going about his nightly routine. “You can stay for a bit,” he said as you sipped your tea. “But as soon as that’s empty,” he continued, pointing at the mug. “You have to head home.”

You glanced down at the tea, now half empty. You set the mug down as Hongjoong added another log onto the fire. You got up, walking over to where he knelt and knelt behind him, wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to leave,” you said softly. Hongjoong took one of your hands in his and kissed the back of it. “I know, love,” he said softly as he pushed the log around to make sure it caught fire.

“But I don’t want you to get in trouble for sneaking out again. Last time you were caught, I didn’t get to see you for two weeks, remember that?” he asked, turning his head to look at you as you raised your head. “Even if it’s just in passing, I prefer seeing you outside the house, not locked up inside.”

You pouted which Hongjoong kissed away. “So go finish your tea and I’ll walk you back.”

You shook your head. “No,” you retorted, holding onto him tighter. Hongjoong chuckled as he set the fire poker aside and stood up, bringing you to a stand as well. “Be a good girl and drink your tea,” he repeated but again you shook your head. “No,” you replied. “I don’t want the tea.”

Hongjoong gently took your wrists as you wrestled him. “If you don’t want tea,” he said, amused at your attempts to fight him. “What do you want?”

You hugged him tighter. “Just to stay with you a little longer.”

Hongjoong noticed the change in your voice and turned in your arms. “Starlight,” he started but you interrupted him. “Can’t we just run away, Joong?” you asked as he took your face in his hands. “We need time to prepare, sweetheart. I can’t just get up and leave in the middle of the night.”

“Why not?” you asked, pulling back. You couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just leave. It would be so easy. “Because of everything in here,” he answered, gesturing around. “Everything in this house is all I have. If we were to leave, we would need food, clothes, a cart, hell, possibly even money! Moving across the country isn’t easy!” he snapped, getting up and walking over to the table, placing his hands on the top and leaning against it.

He’d never lost his temper with you so you sat still, uncertain of what to do or say.

You knew moving wasn’t easy. You’d done it more than once.

“I know it’s not easy,” you said, your voice soft and meek.

You heard Hongjoong turn before you felt his hands take yours and guide you to stand. “I’m sorry, Starlight,” he said softly. “I know you know what it’s like to move. To uproot your entire life and take all your possessions. I’ve never done that,” he continued. “I’ve never been away from this forest. I’ve lived here all my life.”

You said nothing, merely nodding along to his words.

He took your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m sorry, Starlight,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” You leaned forward, hugging him and burying your face in his chest. His arms settled around you. “I love you so much,” he murmured.

“I know you’re looking out for me and I can’t express how much I appreciate it but I’ve survived worse than this. I’ll be okay,” he said, resting his cheek on your head. “And tell Yeosang thank you. I know he’s looking out for me as well.”

“He’s asked me to stay out of the woods for a few days while they investigate,” you blurted out. Hongjoong snorted and sighed. “I actually agree with him on that,” he replied, lifting his head as you looked up. “Of course, I’d love for you to come see me but I don’t want you getting mixed up in this either.”

You nodded, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I told him I would but only if I came and warned you first,” you admitted. Hongjoong let out a laugh before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for coming to warn me, Starlight. I appreciate it.”

Despite wanting to spend the night with him one more time, Hongjoong managed to talk you into returning home and walked you to the edge of the forest where you spent far too long saying goodbye with kiss after kiss before finally returning home.

Over the next few days, you kept your promise, only going into the small patch behind your house to forage for mushrooms. The church conducted their investigation and while they did, the villagers grew even more restless, waiting for a result. More crops went bad, another pig was killed in the middle of the night and the villagers were at their breaking point.

You were inside, about a week since you spoke to Yeosang, helping your mother make bread when there was a knock at the door. Your mother moved to answer it and you heard the surprise in her voice. “Oh, Pastor Kang!”

You glanced up as your mother turned to look at you, Yeosang standing in the doorway. “Good ‘morrow, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he said, his tone light and pleasant. “I was wondering if I might have a word with Miss Y/N.”

Your mother turned, waving you over. “I promise not to take up too much of her time,” he added as your mother passed you to return to the bread. “Take as much time as you need!” your mother called, making you stifle a laugh and step out of the house, shutting the door behind you.

“Come,” he said simply, beckoning you to follow him. You did as he asked, following him as villagers walked around, thankfully none of them paying any attention to you as you walked with the young pastor.

As you rounded the corner, Yeosang guided you behind the building, you turned to look at him and noticed he looked very nervous. You’d never seen him like that before and it made you nervous too.

“Yeosang,” you started as he glanced around, making sure you were alone. “What is going o-”

“The villagers aren’t pleased, Y/N,” he stated plainly. “They’re convinced Hongjoong’s the root cause of the crop and livestock issue. They want his head.” Your stomach sank as Yeosang spoke quickly. “I was at a council meeting and despite my best efforts, they are set on punishing the person they think is the culprit,” he continued.

Your heart raced, palms growing sweaty as you grasped for a solution in your mind. “W-why are you telling me all of this?” you blurted out. Yeosang reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know you have a special connection with him. He’ll listen to you,” he answered.

“You need to warn him. Maybe it can buy him enough time to gather enough supplies to leave before something terrible happens.” Your heart sank into your stomach. ‘No,’ you thought. ‘It’s too soon.’

You shook your head. “He won’t leave,” you answered firmly. Yeosang stared at you. “His life is in imminent danger. He must leave,” he explained. You shook your head. “He won’t leave,” you repeated. “Not without me.”

Yeosang stared at you wordlessly as the implications of your words sank in. “I see,” he finally said softly. You looked up at him. There was a look on his face you couldn’t place but he quickly changed expressions before speaking again. “Could you be ready to leave tomorrow night?” he asked softly.

You stared up at him, eyes wide. “What?” you whispered. Yeosang glanced over his shoulder as he heard footsteps and children laughing. He gently grabbed your arm and moved you around to the other side of the shed where you would stay hidden.

“Can you be ready to leave with him tomorrow?” he asked again. “I don’t know when the villagers are going to put their plan into action but it should be at least one more night before they go after him. If you can both be ready to leave tomorrow, I can sneak you out of the village and then the two of you can continue on.”

You stared at him in awe. He was going to help you? Help Hongjoong? “You would do that?” you asked quietly. “You’d help us leave?” Yeosang nodded. “I know Hongjoong isn’t responsible for these misfortunes. It’s someone else, I just don’t know who,” he answered. “And if Hongjoong won’t leave without you, then I’ll make sure he leaves with you.”

You felt your chest tightened, tears threatening to spill as the urge to hug or even kiss the man before you took hold but you resisted it. “Thank you, Yeosang,” you said softly, taking his hand. “Don’t thank me until you’ve spoken to Hongjoong,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Speak to Hongjoong and then come find me tomorrow morning after the services,” he added.

You nodded and thanked him again.

The walk back was short and you thanked him once more as you entered your home, head swimming as you tried to make sense of everything. Your mother came into view, curiosity filling her features. “Well?” she asked expectantly. “What did the pastor want?” You forced a smile but before you could answer, the front door opened and your father entered the house.

“Oh, father,” you said as he shut the door and turned to face the two of you. “Y/N,” he said simply. “Go to your room,” he continued. “I must speak with your mother.” You knew by the tone of his voice he was not in the mood to be trifled with and so you nodded, thankful for his interruption and made your way to the stairs. Once in your room, you sat against the wall by your door and very carefully opened it, allowing the sound from downstairs to carry.

“There’s nothing to be done,” you heard your father say, his voice full of exhaustion. “The villagers have made up their minds. They want his head.” It didn’t take you long to work out that your father was talking about Hongjoong. “They think he’s the cause of their misfortunes and I’m inclined to believe them. He’s a witch and has made some kind of pact to ruin our village. Several of the town girls have claimed to have been approached by him. What he asks of them I dare not repeat. He’s a disgusting, vile, and wicked creature and he must face the consequences of his actions.”

Silence fell downstairs before your mother spoke. “Y/N speaks highly of him,” she said simply. Another beat of silence followed before your father answered. “And what does she know? She’s but a mere lamb. She doesn’t know his true nature. Or perhaps he’s bewitched her just as he’s ensnared the others. Either way, he must be dealt with.”

“Will they kill him?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you held your breath, waiting for your father’s response.

“Aye,” he answered and you felt your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. ‘They’re going to kill Hongjoong?!’

You scrambled up as quietly as you could as you heard shuffling. “I will speak to her,” you heard your father say, followed by the sound of his heavy footsteps heading for the stairs. You shut your door carefully and moved to sit on your bed by the window, looking out at the dark clouds gathering on the horizon.

There were a series of soft knocks at your door. You turned your head as your door opened, your father peering in. “Can I come in?” he asked softly. You nodded silently as he entered and shut the door. He walked over and took a seat beside you, silence falling over the two of you.

“I know you have a fondness for the hermit in the woods,” he started. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, fingers curling into a fist on your thigh.

“What?” your father asked, turning his head to look in your direction.

“His name is Hongjoong,” you replied, finally looking up at him. “And he’s not a witch.”

Your father sighed. “I don’t know what he’s been filling your head with,” he started. “But that man is not like us.” You stood up quickly, putting space between you and your father. “He was just raised differently!” you retorted. “He’s a good man! He keeps to himself, doesn’t cause problems, works hard, and just because he doesn’t conform to your standard of living, he must be a witch, right?” you continued, your voice raising.

Your father looked taken aback. You’d never raised your voice at your parents before. “There have been witnesses,” your father finally said, getting to his feet. “Young women who say he approached them, attempted to seduce them,” he continued. “Liars. They’re lying! Hongjoong would never!” you yelled, heat spreading from your face to your chest. You were seething.

“You’re all quick to pin the blame for your misfortunes on someone who you view as an outsider instead of looking inside yourselves and wondering if maybe the problem is your own. One you’ve created. Hongjoong has done nothing wrong! He doesn’t care about the villagers. He doesn’t care whether the village is prosperous or not. He keeps to himself because he knows no one will come to his defense,” you continued.

Your father listened as you unloaded on him. “Well I will advocate for him! Hongjoong is a kind, intelligent, and resourceful man. His soul is pure and he cares about the forest and the animals and plants inside it. He could care about you too if you’d let him. He doesn’t care if we prosper or fail. He cares about the true nature of the soul.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed, brows furrowing. “You speak as if you truly know him,” he started. You hesitated. “I do know him. I love him,” you blurted out. Your father’s confusion was replaced with anger. “Love?” he scoffed. “What do you know about love?”

You glared at him. “I know love because Hongjoong has shown me what true love is. He loves me, father. That is how I know those women are lying. He loves me and only me.”

Your father shook his head. “Has he poisoned you? Filled your head with his nonsense?” he asked before his eyes widened. “Has he put his filthy hands on my daughter?” he asked, his voice rising in volume. “He’s only shown me love and what it means to love someone as deeply as we love each other.”

You watched as your father’s ire only grew. “He dared to put his hands on my child?!” He turned, starting for the door but you stepped forward.

“I’m not a child!” you shouted. Your father turned to look at you. “I am not a child,” you repeated. “I am a woman and I’m Hongjoong’s lover. The only one he has.”

Your words hung in the air as your father stared at you. He crossed the distance and before you could register what was happening, he struck you across the face, a stinging gracing your cheek just under your eye from where he hit you. It was an almost blinding pain and you brought your hand up quickly to cover the spot, tears welling up in your eyes. “Be quiet, whore,” your father hissed.

“He will pay for his crimes and then you will face punishment for your sins,” your father snapped, boots pounding the wooden floor as he crossed the room and exited, slamming the door behind him. You tried to follow but your attempts to open the door were met with nothing.

The door had been barred from the outside. You slammed your fists against the wood, screaming to be let out. You tried again to open the door but to no avail. You turned to look at the window, the gray clouds had rolled in, darkness starting to settle in. You had to get out. You had to warn Hongjoong.

You moved to the window, opening it and looking outside to find the space behind your house vacant. You looked around for something to help you climb out seeing as it was a long fall down. Your eyes landed on the bed and you moved quickly, tearing the linens from the mattress. You grabbed a blade from your sewing kit and nicked the material before starting to tear it apart into strips, working quickly.

Once you were certain you had enough, you started to tie them together, making the knots secure before tying one end to the leg of your bed and throwing the rest of your makeshift rope out the window. It reached almost to the ground and you carefully started to climb out the window.

The climb down was clumsy but you managed to get to the ground without making too much sound or drawing the attention of your parents. Once on flat ground, you pulled your hood up and took off, making for the forest, ducking behind homes and other buildings until you reached the tree line. As soon as you were in the cover of the forest, you ran, holding your skirts in your hand as to not trip over them as you leapt over branches and stones.

Your lungs burned and your heart pounded but you didn’t dare stop until you saw Hongjoong’s cabin come into view. Smoke rose from the chimney and light emanated from the windows as you approached, pushing open the wooden gate and hurrying past his garden and the goats that bleated at you.

You reached the door, breathless, and raised a fist, beating erratically at the wood. There was a shuffling from inside before the door opened and Hongjoong looked at you, amused until you stepped forward and collapsed. He managed to catch you before you hit the floor and his amusement turned to concern as he helped you inside, shutting the door.

“What on earth is going on?” he asked as he guided you over to the table, helping you sit down. “They villagers!” you gasped, grabbing his hand as he turned to start making tea. “They want your head. They’re still blaming you for their misfortunes!” Hongjoong scoffed, starting to pull from your grasp.

“This again, Y/N? We just talked about this, I don’t care what they-”

“Damn it, Hongjoong, they’re going to kill you!” you shouted.

He froze, kettle in his hands as he stared at you. “They’ve made up their minds. Yeosang told me to warn you!” you continued, trying to get up but Hongjoong moved over, setting the kettle down and kneeling in front of you, taking both of your hands in his. “And you’re certain?” he asked, looking up at you.

You nodded. “I trust Yeosang,” you replied. “He doesn’t want anything to happen to you. He told me to warn you. He said if you can be ready tomorrow night, he’ll help us leave.” Hongjoong ran his fingers through his hair before looking up at you. “Wait. Help us leave?” he asked. You nodded. “I told him I know you wouldn’t leave without me. Not after the plans we made, right?”

Hongjoong’s expression softened. “Oh, Starlight,” he said softly, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Of course I’d never leave without you. But… tomorrow night? I don’t know if that’s enough time…” he trailed off, looking around his cabin. “I would have to leave almost everything behind.”

You glanced around. “I could help you pack,” you offered, drawing his attention. Hongjoong’s lips curled into a smile and he took your face in his hands. “What about you?” he asked. “Don’t you need to pack?” You shook your head. “All I have are the clothes I wear. I don’t need anything from my house. All I need is you,” you replied.

Hongjoong pulled you into a quick kiss. “Okay,” he said softly, getting to his feet. “We’d better get to work,” he added. You removed your cloak and started to help him pack up. He told you which were the most important items as well as what he could spare.

You worked diligently as the sun started to set and packed up what you could. “I’ll have to leave the animals,” he said softly. “Unless there’s space in the cart,” he added, looking around at what you already managed to pack.

You opened your mouth to respond but a sound from outside caught you off guard. You turned to Hongjoong who glanced at you before moving to the window to peer outside. You rushed to his side. “What is it?” you whispered, trying to peer out but he pushed you back.

“You need to hide, now,” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the back wall. You watched as he shifted a small shelf, exposing a hidden panel that he then pulled open. “Hongjoong? What are you doing?” you asked as he grabbed your hand.

“I need you to hide, Starlight. Don’t argue with me! Just do as I say, please!” he pleaded as he guided you to crouch. You crawled into the hole in the wall and turned as he knelt down. “I’m going to close this door and put the shelf back. Stay here. If I don’t come back in ten minutes, follow this tunnel to the exit and then I want you to go home,” he explained.

You opened your mouth to protest but he spoke over you. “I want you to go home, do you understand?” he asked. You’d never seen him look so serious before. It scared you.

You nodded silently. He cupped your cheek gently, leaning into the small space. “I love you, Starlight.” Before you could answer, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips before he backed up and replaced the panel. You heard the shifting of the shelf and sat in the darkness.

A loud pounding at the front door sounded and you froze as you heard Hongjoong walk calmly over to the door and open it. “Good evening, gentlemen,” you heard him say in a pleasant tone. “How can I help you?”

“Cut the horse shit, witch!” one voice rang out and there were several murmurs of agreement. Hongjoong fell silent before he let out a sigh. “Yeosang,” he said softly and your eyes widened as you heard Yeosang speak. “I am so sorry, Hongjoong,” he started. “I didn’t want it to come to this but I need you to come with us for questioning.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard Hongjoong speak. “Can I at least put the fire out so my home doesn’t catch fire?”

You heard several people protest but they fell silent. “Of course,” Yeosang replied. You watched the back of the panel as the light on the other side was extinguished. You heard footsteps head for the door and then the door shut.

You did as Hongjoong asked, waiting for ten minutes and then an extra five before you finally decided to move, a chill settling in to your hiding place. You followed the tunnel, crawling for what felt like minutes before you finally found a small wooden board blocking your path. It had vines woven into the gaps in the wood. You pushed it aside and pulled yourself out of the hole before replacing it and brushing yourself off.

You looked around and saw you were about thirty meters behind Hongjoong’s cabin, the exit of the tunnel at the base of a tree. You started back towards the cabin, being careful not to make too much sound. You saw and heard nothing so you quickly and quietly made your way back to the village, by passing your home as you headed for the church which is where you were certain they had taken Hongjoong.

Your suspicions were proven true when you arrived and snuck behind the church, avoiding the men who stood out front. You carefully climbed onto one of the posts, holding onto the building for stabilization. You peered through the window where you could see Yeosang, Jonas, and your father speaking with a few other of the villagers.

You lowered your head so as not to be spotted and pressed your ear against the side of the building but couldn’t hear anything other than muffled voices. You carefully climbed down and crawled under the space under the church until you were under where you assumed the group was standing.

“We will hold him here while we question him,” you heard Jonas say though his voice was still muffled. You heard your father speak but were unable to make out what he said. “No,” you heard Jonas reply. “This is a church investigation and he will be held here for the duration of his questioning.”

You heard several voices speak at once but quiet as Yeosang spoke this time. “Trust us to do this. If he is involved, we will find out.”

“And if he’s not involved?” you heard your father ask. “Then he will be released,” Yeosang answered. You heard several voices protest but Jonas interrupted them. “If he be innocent, there be no need to hold him.” You nodded silently to yourself.

As the group started to break up and several footsteps made their way to the door you heard your father speak again. “When you went to his cabin, was she there?” he asked and you assumed he was speaking to Yeosang.

Your suspicion was confirmed when Yeosang answered. “I did not see her inside,” he replied. “I stood in the doorway and I didn’t see any sign of her.”

You started to crawl out, checking the area to make sure it was safe for you to exit. Once you did, you headed back towards the house. Your makeshift rope was still there surprisingly so you carefully and quietly climbed back up into your room and pulled the rope up and shut the window as your door opened.

You turned to find your mother. “Where have you been?” she demanded. You removed your cloak wordlessly and set it aside. “I’m getting ready for bed,” you announced. Your mother moved to grab your arm but you pulled away from her. “I asked you a question, girl,” your mother snapped. “I’m not a girl,” you retorted. “I’m a woman. And I don’t have to tell you where I’ve been but I’m sure you already know.”

Your mother glared at you before letting out a heavy sigh. “Your father is furious. It’s not like you to sneak out like this,” she said, causing you to laugh. “I’ve been sneaking out for years,” you quipped. “I’ve just gotten really good at hiding it.”

Your mother stared at you in shock. As she opened her mouth to reply, the door downstairs opened and she glanced at the door before turning back to you. “Get dressed for bed. I will handle your father.”

She left without another word and you went about your nightly routine. You didn’t hear another peep from downstairs and neither of your parents checked in as you climbed into bed. You tossed and turned, unable to relax until you finally fell into an uneasy slumber.

—————————————————————

The next morning you awoke to the sound of rapid knocking at your door and your eyes opened quickly. As you sat up, the door opened and your mother entered, shutting the door behind her and rushing to your bedside. “Get up,” she whispered, pulling the covers back. “Get dressed.”

You got up and grabbed your clothes from your mother but before you could ask what was going on, there was a heavier knock and the door opened. Your father strode in. You had expected him to look beside himself with anger and while there was still a hint of anger to his expression, there was none in his voice when he spoke.

“Get dressed,” he said sternly. “And meet us downstairs.” He glanced at your mother before looking back at you. “Now,” he snapped and then turned, exiting as your mother rushed after him. Before closing the door, she gave you an apologetic look but what she was sorry for, you didn’t know.

Once you were dressed, you headed down the stairs and upon passing through the door frame into the kitchen, you froze in your tracks, staring at the guest standing in your parents’ home. He looked up to meet your gaze, giving you a warm smile.

“Yeosang,” you said softly as you looked from him to your parents and back. “What’s going o—”

“Get in here and sit down,” your father snapped, cutting you off. You stared at him, anger coursing through your veins at being spoken to like a child. You hesitated, challenging your father’s authority knowing he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you in front of Yeosang.

“Y/N,” Yeosang said, his soft voice a drastic contrast from your fathers. “Please, have a seat.”

You glanced at your father, glaring at him before moving to sit in the chair. Yeosang moved to sit across from you while your mother sat next to you, your father on the other side. You could feel the awkward atmosphere, thick with tension as the four of you sat in silence.

“Y/N,” Yeosang started, clearing his throat, drawing your gaze. “Your parents have discussed something they feel is important with me and I want you to know that you’re not in trouble,” he explained, with that same, kind smile on his face.

“Oh she’s in trouble,” your father said and you glared at him, biting your tongue to keep from saying something in retaliation. Yeosang chose to ignore what your father said and continued speaking.

“Your parents’ feel that it’s due time for you to marry,” Yeosang said, skipping straight to the point. You felt your heart skid to a stop. ‘Marriage?’ You turned your head to look at your mother who refused to meet your eye. You didn’t dare look at your father, afraid it might set you off.

“Since evidence of your relationship with Hongjoong—”

“Don’t say that name in my home!” your father hissed, almost arching his back like a barn cat in the face of fear. It made you feel a little more relieved that your father, and perhaps the whole village, were still scared of Hongjoong. Not that they had anything to fear. Hongjoong would never do anything to cause harm to another soul if it was not warranted.

Again, Yeosang chose to ignore your father, convincing you that he was, indeed, a saint.

“Since it has come to light, your options for marriage are limited,” he continued. You held back the urge to laugh but managed to keep it down. You were planning to marry Hongjoong. And nothing, not even being held for questioning for crimes he did not commit, would stop that.

“It has been proposed—”

“No,” you said, without hearing the rest. You weren’t sure what was going to be said and part of you feared that Nicolas was the only willing soul and you would rather die than marry him. “No?” Yeosang asked, curiously. “You haven’t even heard all of my proposal.”

You shook your head. “No,” you repeated. “I’m already promised to someone.”

Silence fell over the table before your father spoke. “You insolent, ungrateful, wench!”

You turned to look at him and caught the full strike of the back of his hand. The blow caught you off guard, knocking you out of your seat. Your mother let out a cry and got up, moving to try and help you up. “We have a guest!” she shrieked as your father got up, intent on advancing on you.

Before he could land another blow, Yeosang was standing in front of him.

“If you lay one more hand on her, I will have you arrested for assault,” he said, his voice even and calm. Your father took several deep breaths before glaring down at you. “I’ve had enough of your disobedience, girl!” he shouted.

“We’ve raised you, clothed you, fed you, and this is how you repay us? By sneaking around with some backwoods witch?! Parading around like a whore?!”

“That’s enough!” Yeosang said, raising his voice above your father’s, shocking both your parents and yourself. You’d never once heard Yeosang raise his voice in anger. “Do you think insulting her is going to make her listen to you?”

“Even if he was as sweet as pie, I still wouldn’t listen to him,” you hissed, raising your hand to your swollen cheek which was now tender to the touch, making you wince. Yeosang turned to look at you, a pleading look in his eyes. He turned back to your father. “You’ve made your point,” he added.

“Yelling at, insulting, and beating your daughter won’t make her behave the way you want her to. She’s an adult. You can’t treat her like this,” he continued. Your father looked downright angry at Yeosang now. “How dare you tell me what to do in my own home!” he spat.

“Would you like my help or not?” Yeosang asked, raising his voice over your father’s once more. “If you do, I suggest you stop or I will walk out that door right now,” he added, pointing towards the front door. That seemed to shut your father up and he smashed his lips together, murmuring in anger before he moved to sit back down.

Yeosang turned and knelt down, offering his hand. “Are you all right?” he whispered, eyes falling to your cheek. You nodded wordlessly as your mother helped you up. “Just let me handle this, okay?” he added in an undertone. “You trust me, right?”

You looked up at him, eyes searching his for a moment before you nodded. “I trust you.”

You sat back down and Yeosang returned to his seat across from you.

“As I was saying,” he started. “Your options for marriage are limited as the rumors have already spread.”

“Not even Nicolas wants you,” your father interjected and you watched as Yeosang glared at your father. “One more remark like that and I will rescind my offer,” Yeosang said and your father fell silent once more, hopefully for the last time. ‘Offer?’

“In the face of your limited options, I’ve come to offer a solution,” Yeosang explained, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on the table as he looked at you.

With bated breath, you waited for him to explain his solution.

“I’ve offered to marry you.”

The silence that fell over the table rang in your ears as you processed his words. ‘Marry… Yeosang? Surely, he can’t be serious. He must be jesting!’

Your mother nudged you, stirring you out of your train of thoughts. “M-marry you?” you stammered, pure shock clouding your mind. A million thoughts raced through your mind but there was only one that mattered. ‘What about Hongjoong?’

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t marry you.”

“You will marry him,” your father snapped. “He is the only option to save your reputation. Our reputation.” Yeosang, clearly annoyed by your father’s interruption, turned to your mother, a polite smile on his face and spoke in the sweetest voice possible.

“Could I speak to Y/N, please? Alone.”

Your mother’s eyes widened and she nodded wordlessly, getting up from her seat and moving to where your father sat. She gently pushed him until he got up and the two of them went into the other room where you could hear your father grumbling under his breath as they climbed the stairs.

Once you were alone, you turned back to Yeosang. “What are you doing?” you hissed as he got up, moving to take your father’s seat and taking your hand. “Please,” he said softly. “I need you to play along and trust me. I know you and Hongjoong made promises to marry each other and I fully intend to prolong the marriage as much as possible until his name is cleared and you can leave the village together,” he explained. “I’m doing this to protect you.”

You shook your head. “And if they never clear his name? What then? You can’t put it off forever.”

Yeosang let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his dark locks. “I’ll figure out a secondary plan but I need you to trust me. I’m working to clear his name and if I can’t get it cleared, I will figure out a way to get you two out of here so you can be together. Please, just trust me, okay?”

You stared at him for a few moments before sighing and nodding. “Okay,” you answered. “I’ll play along for now.” Yeosang gave your hand a gentle squeeze before getting up and moving back to his seat. “Is the thought of marrying me really that distasteful?” he asked in a playful tone. You snorted, shaking your head as you heard your parents heading back down the stairs.

“Not at all,” you answered, looking up at him. “And maybe under other circumstances, I’d jump at the chance but—”

“You love Hongjoong. I understand.”

When your parents returned, your mother took her seat beside you, your father back in his place. You cleared your throat before speaking. “We’ve spoken,” you answered, looking at Yeosang before turning to look at your mother. “And I’ve agreed.”

The look of relief that washed over your mother’s face brought a smile to your face. Even if it was a lie, at least she could live without the worry for now.

When you disappeared into the night with Hongjoong, however, she could worry then.

Your parents started the necessary procedures for Yeosang to begin courting you which gave you two the excuse to spend time one on one where he would update you on Hongjoong’s case. The good news, there was no evidence to suggest Hongjoong was responsible. The bad news, the villagers did not seem appeased by this as their misfortunes continued.

“Do you think someone else is causing the problems?” you asked one night while lying in bed, a bundling board separating you. “I think that’s possible,” Yeosang whispered. “Now that I look at it from a different perspective, I can see how a witch might be involved but I know it’s not Hongjoong.”

You turned onto your side, peering over the board at Yeosang. “Let’s say for argument’s sake, there is a witch cursing the village,” you started, drawing his attention and he turned his head to look at you, a smile spreading over his face before he stifled a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, brows furrowing as he tried to force his laughter to subside. “Lay back,” he said, turning onto his side. You did as he asked and lay back down. You heard him shift on the other side of the board. “Look at me,” he whispered and you glanced up, seeing just his eyes peering down at you.

“This is what you looked like,” he added, another wave of quiet laughter coursing through him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from you as you rolled onto your side, propping yourself up to meet him face to face.

“Okay, I get it now,” you said, your giggles subsiding. “But I’m serious. Let’s say for argument’s sake there is a witch. Who do you think it is?” Yeosang’s laughter also subsided and he regarded you with a serious look. “You’re asking me to accuse someone?” he asked.

“Hypothetically,” you added. Yeosang fell silent before lying back against the mattress. “I do not actually know,” he answered. “I do not think I can safely guess.” You let out a groan and fell back against the mattress, your head hitting the pillow softly.

“You wanna know who I think it is?” you asked. You heard him chuckle. “I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway,” he answered.

“I think it’s the least suspicious person,” you answered. “The least likely candidate. Someone you would never even think to accuse.”

Silence fell over you two for a beat before you heard the sheets rustle and Yeosang’s eyes appeared over the board once more. “You think the witch is Ms. Goode?” A smirk crossed your face. “So you would guess her?” you asked. Yeosang’s eyes narrowed. “Well, who would you guess, then?”

You sat up, turning to look at him, the same smirk on your face as you leaned in. “You.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened. “Me?” he asked incredulously. You nodded as you leaned back. “But it wouldn’t explain why you’re so adamant on helping Hongjoong.” you continued. “Perhaps it’s Jonas!” you whispered. Yeosang sat up, fixing you with a stern look.

“This is what happens when people start throwing around accusations,” he said, all amusement gone from his voice. “It’s only hypothetical, Yeosang. I don’t actually think it’s Jonas.”

—————————————————————

Yeosang continued to keep you informed of the status of the investigation and to postpone the wedding as long as possible. You were getting more and more anxious as you waited for Hongjoong to be cleared.

You had been confined to the house, unless Yeosang or your mother were accompanying you. It was picking at your sanity and you were slowly losing grip on reality. You had spent all day inside, only being let out to tend to your garden and use the outhouse.

As you were finishing up dinner, your father got up and cleared his throat. “I have to call a meeting,” he announced. You looked up at him and then to your mother. She said nothing as your father stepped away from the table and headed for the door.

Once it shut, you turned to your mother. “Meeting? What about?” you asked. Your mother shook her head as she cleared away your father’s bowl and cup. “Are you finished?” she asked to which you shook your head.

“Mother, what meeting?” you asked. Your mother set the bowl down, a little harder than usual and turned around to meet your gaze. “I did not ask because I do not need to know. And neither do you. Finish your dinner and go about your chores.”

You watched as she turned away and resisted the urge to groan as you turned your gaze down to your bowl and pushed bits of potato around. After a few minutes of this, mind reeling with what your father could possibly be calling a meeting for, you finally stood up, grabbing the bowl and moving to clear your place.

Your mother took the bowl from you without a word and you went about the rest of your chores. As you were wiping down the table, a knock rang out. Your mother wiped her hands and made her way through the kitchen, disappearing into the living room. A moment later you heard the front door open.

“Pastor Kang? Is everything alright?” you heard your mother ask and looked up, trying to peer through the doorway into the vestibule. “Sorry for the late call, Ms. Y/L/N but I was wondering if I could borrow Y/N for a moment?”

Your heart skipped a beat, hope building in your chest that you might get a moment to step outside, away from the watchful eye of your mother. “Her father just left,” you heard your mother say, sounding apologetic. “She really shouldn’t be going outside.”

“I understand,” you heard Yeosang reply and were about to protest, even though it wouldn’t help your case in the slightest, when you heard him add on. “It would just be for a short while. I’ll have her back before her father even leaves the meeting hall. I promise.”

You could hear your mother sigh and quickly went back to work as footsteps started back towards the kitchen, stopping at the door. “Y/N,” your mother called and you turned to look back at her. “Pastor Kang wants to see you,” she continued. You set the rag in your hand down and wiped your hands before heading for the door.

Your mother caught you, firmly grabbing your arm. “Be sure to be back before your father gets home. Else he will really be mad and you won’t be able to leave until after you are married.” You nodded wordlessly and your mother let go, turning to watch as you walked over to where Yeosang waited. You stepped out of the door and shut it behind you.

“To what do I owe—”

“Hurry,” Yeosang said, taking you by the elbow gently. “We don’t have much time. If I’m to have you back before your father gets home, we’re going to have to make haste.” He started to guide you away from the house and behind the buildings so as not to be seen.

“What? Make haste?” you asked as you grabbed your skirt in your hand and lifted it off the ground to be able to move more freely without risk of tripping over the hem. “With all the men in the meeting, the church is empty,” Yeosang said as you hurried to keep pace.

“What?” you asked, halting in place. Yeosang noticed you weren’t following and turned around to return to your side. “We cannot stop!” he urged, placing a hand on your back. “We must hurry!” He guided you along behind the houses until you reached the church.

Yeosang checked to make sure the coast was clear and led you inside.

You’d never been inside the church at night or when it was this empty before. There was an unsettling and eerie atmosphere about it. The rafters were completely shrouded in darkness and anything could be lurking up there, hiding in the blackness.

“This way,” Yeosang said, pulling you out of your dark thoughts. He led you further into the church towards a door that led to a room off to the side. “I’ve never been back here,” you whispered to him. “There are rooms back here,” he explained, showing you the narrow corridor. “When we have visiting clergy, they stay here,” he added.

Yeosang led you down the hall to the room at the end and unlocked it with a key he produced. “He’s in here,” Yeosang explained. “We keep him locked back here because it’s safer than what the villagers had suggested. Only Jonas and I have a key to get back here.”

Once the door was unlocked, Yeosang called out. “Hongjoong, it’s just me, Yeosang. I have a visitor with me.” He turned to look at you and nodded before turning the knob and pushing open the door.

Inside was a modest sized room with a single bed, bedside table, and a small wardrobe. A half melted candle sat on the bedside table along with an empty plate and a cup. Sitting on the bed, back against the wall was Hongjoong. He looked up and the relief that passed over his face was the same that you felt upon seeing him.

You rushed into the room, nearly tripping over your skirt as you climbed onto the bed and threw your arms around him. Hongjoong caught you, pulling you tightly against him as you sobbed into his shoulder. “Shh Starlight,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he gently rocked you. “It’s alright.”

You heard Yeosang clear his throat from the doorway and turned to look at him. “I can only give you a few minutes,” he explained. “I will go keep watch and come get you when it’s time to go,” he added. You nodded and he shut the door, his footsteps receding.

You turned back to Hongjoong. He had a partially healed cut on his bottom lip and a bruised eye. You took his face gently in your hands. “What have they done to you?” you whispered. He smiled weakly. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied, pulling your hands away and placing a kiss on the back of each one.

“What about you?” he asked, looking up at you. “Yeosang told me your parents are keeping you confined in the house?” he asked. You nodded. “They’re trying to force me to marry Yeosang,” you mumbled, settling in his lap.

He reached up, taking your chin in his fingers, and tilted your head back. “Maybe you should,” he said softly. You knocked his hand away and sat up straighter, to look at him, narrowing your eyes. “What are you even saying?” you asked, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“I’m thinking logically Starlight,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I know Yeosang is advocating for me but let’s not kid ourselves. The villagers are intent on seeing that I hang for this. They aren’t giving in or listening to reason,” he continued to explain. “I think if you marry Yeosang, it will protect you from their wrath should things go awry.”

You shook your head, almost as if you were shaking his words out of your head. “What about us? What about our future?” you asked, your voice soft. Hongjoong smiled a solemn smile, cupping your cheek. “It was a nice dream, Starlight,” he started. “But I think at this point, that’s all it will ever be: a dream.”

You looked away, blinking back the tears that had been threatening to spill since you entered the room. “Look at me,” Hongjoong said softly. At first, you ignored his request but when he asked again, you couldn’t hold back. You turned to meet his gaze.

“I love you so much,” he said softly, cupping your face and wiping away a few of the stray tears that actually managed to spill. “More than anything, Starlight. More than my own life,” he continued. “And you know nothing will ever change that but you need to marry Yeosang.”

You pulled away from him, moving to get up only for him to gently grab your wrist and prevent you from going any further. “Please, Starlight,” he pleaded. “If not for your own sake, do it for me? So when I leave this world, I know you’ll be okay—”

You pulled your wrist from his grip. “Stop talking like that!” you snapped. “Stop talking like you’re going to die!” You started to walk towards the door. “If you keep talking like that, I will walk out of here and—”

“And what?” Hongjoong interjected, getting up from the bed. “And never come back?” he asked. You turned to look at him, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “Don’t threaten me, Y/N. That is the cruelest thing you could do to me,” he said as he walked over and took your face in his hands. “You’re not that cruel, Starlight.”

A small sob escaped you, prompting Hongjoong to pull you against him and wrap his arms around you, allowing you to cry against his chest. “I’m only thinking of you, Starlight. If I am convicted of this, I don’t want to take you with me.”

“I do,” you said, your voice cracking. “I don’t want to live without you!”

Hongjoong was about to respond but a soft knock interrupted the both of you. The door cracked open and Yeosang peered in. “I’m sorry,” he started. “But we have to go.” You clung tighter to Hongjoong, pressing your face into his shirt.

“It’s alright, Starlight,” Hongjoong whispered. “Promise me we’re going to leave,” you whispered. “Like we planned. That this is all going to blow over and we’re going to leave like we planned and build a cabin by the sea,” you continued. Hongjoong glanced past you to where Yeosang stood before he finally returned his gaze to you.

“I promise, Starlight.”

You pulled him into a tight hug before he whispered in your ear. “If something happens to me, I need you to find my box and hide it.” You pulled back to look at him, confusion on your face. “What?” you asked softly. “In the crawlspace, the one you hid in, there’s a box buried there. If anything happens to me, I want you to go into the crawlspace, dig it up and take it deep into the woods where no one will ever find it and bury it. Promise me, Y/N.”

“But—”

“And whatever you do, do not open it. You understand me?”

“Hongjoong, I—”

“Promise me, Y/N!” he cut you off. You stared back at him before nodding slowly. “I promise,” you said softly. Hongjoong pulled you into a quick kiss before Yeosang stepped forward to break your reunion apart.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Yeosang said, gently pulling you towards the door. “We can’t stay here. The meeting will be ending at any moment.” You glanced at him quickly before looking back at Hongjoong. “Wait,” you said, pulling from his grip and rushing back to Hongjoong, pulling him into a kiss.

Hongjoong kissed you back with as much passion as you threw into it. After a moment, he pulled back, cupping your cheek. “I love you,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “And I love you, Starlight,” he responded. “I’ll always love you.”

Yeosang urged you to move and reluctantly, you pulled away from Hongjoong and allowed the pastor to guide you out of the room, turning to watch as he shut the door, Hongjoong disappearing from sight as he locked the door behind him. He slipped the key into his pocket and guided you back down the hall and into the main room.

“I’m working on securing supplies and a carriage,” Yeosang explained as he led you out of the church and started the trek back to your house. “If I’m able to secure them, I will send you a message when you and Hongjoong will leave,” he continued. “You must be ready to go as soon as I give you that message, am I clear?” he asked.

You nodded wordlessly, staring at the ground as you walked. You felt his hand grab your arm gently and turn you to face him. “Do you understand?” he asked, tipping your head back and forcing you to look at him. “You have to be ready to go before then. Whatever important items you need must be packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

You nodded again. “Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I understand, Yeosang.” The two of you stared at one another for a moment longer before Yeosang let go, gesturing in the direction of your house. “Let’s go,” he said softly.

The rest of the walk was made in silence, the cool night air full of the sounds of crickets, punctuated by the occasional hooting of an owl. Once you reached the door, Yeosang stopped you, taking your hand gently.

“Regardless of if the villagers accept Hongjoong’s innocence or not,” he started, his voice low. “I give you my word that I will get you and Hongjoong out of here. That is a promise.” You forced a smile, thanking him as you reached for the doorknob.

Yeosang stopped you once more. “Do not lose hope, Y/N.”

Once you were back inside, your mother came to check on you and you did your best to convince her you were fine with a fake smile and short but enthusiastic replies but in reality, all you felt was exhausted and more full of despair than you had before visiting Hongjoong.

You asked to be excused early and went up to your room, letting out a sigh as you shut the door and leaned against it. You looked around your room, eyes taking in everything and started over towards the small sewing table where your handicrafts sat, some half finished.

Your fingertips brushed over the embroidery as you looked around at it all. Yeosang’s voice came into your mind. ‘... at a moment’s notice.’ You looked over to your wardrobe, a newfound determination in your chest as you walked over and opened the door.

You rifled through the clothes and found what you were looking for. A linen bag. You packed away one dress and one nightgown, figuring you could always make more clothes once you and Hongjoong got to your destination.

You grabbed a few other sentimental items to pack into the bag. Once you were sure you had everything you wanted or needed, you pulled the drawstrings closed and hid the bag in the back of your wardrobe. You then undressed and pulled on your nightgown as you heard the door downstairs open.

You quickly climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. You could hear your parents downstairs talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Rolling onto your side to face the wall, your back to the door, was a good move because a couple moments later, the door opened slowly.

You didn’t move, pretending to be asleep until the door shut quietly with a click. You lay there, waiting for sleep to come as you listened to your parents move around the house until they both entered their bedroom and eventually it fell quiet.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, staring at the wall but eventually sleep finally took you and you passed into a deep slumber without dreams.

Hours had passed since you left and Hongjoong had picked up the book Yeosang had given him a couple days ago. He had been reading it slowly, to make it last longer not knowing if or when he might get another.

When Yeosang returned, he had brought Hongjoong another candle before retiring to his home for the evening. Hongjoong had lost track of time since then but the current candle was almost completely used up by the time he reached the next chapter of his book.

He had just turned the page when there was a light knock at his door. He looked up as the door opened. He had expected it to be Yeosang but was surprised when he saw that it was Jonas instead. The elder minister almost never visited him unless to question him.

Hongjoong watched as Jonas closed the door and turned to face him, looking around the room. His eyes landed on the book in Hongjoong’s hands. “I see Pastor Kang is keeping you entertained,” he said simply. Hongjoong nodded silently, waiting for the old man to tell him why he’s visiting him.

“Did you have a visitor?” Jonas asked and Hongjoong’s heart sank. ‘Shit.’ Hongjoong said nothing as he watched Jonas who smiled. “I’m not mad,” he said. “It was nice of Yeosang to bring Miss Y/N to come see you.”

Hongjoong closed his book, setting it aside on the bed and shifted to sit up, narrowing his eyes at Jonas. “How did you—?”

“Know?” Jonas asked, finishing his sentence. “This is my church,” Jonas explained. “You really think I wouldn’t know the comings and goings of my own church?” he asked. “I thought you were smarter than that,” Jonas added. “You strike me as a smart man, Hongjoong,” Jonas continued. “Well, not extremely smart,” he added with a chuckle.

“After all, a witch ought to know better.”

Hongjoong watched him carefully. “Know better? Than what?”

“Than to cross an even more powerful witch,” Jonas replied. Hongjoong eyed him suspiciously. “So you know who it is, then?” Hongjoong asked. Jonas let out a chuckle. “Do I know who it is?” he asked, sounding highly amused.

Hongjoong was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to know why the old man was in his room and why they were even having this conversation. “Will you just get to the point?” Hongjoong asked, sounding as every bit annoyed as he felt.

“The point?” Jonas asked, his smile falling. “Of course.”

“Have you been paying any attention to the village?” Jonas asked, suddenly changing the subject again. Hongjoong shook his head. “Why would I?” he asked. Jonas nodded thoughtfully. “Of course,” he said. “Why would a reclusive witch who lives in the woods pay any attention to his only neighbors who live in the village just outside the forest?”

Hongjoong resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m serious, old man,” he growled. “Just get to the point already! I grow tired of this conversation.”

“You really aren’t as observant or as powerful as I thought,” Jonas said with an amused hint to his voice.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. “What?” he asked softly. “Aren’t witches supposed to be able to sense these things? Know when another witch is around?” Jonas asked. Hongjoong stared back at him. “Sometimes,” Hongjoong answered. “You have to actually look for it though.”

Jonas nodded, keeping his eyes on Hongjoong. “Well, look for it,” Jonas encouraged. Hongjoong eyed him suspiciously again. ‘Why is he so adamant?’ he wondered to himself. Jonas said nothing else, waiting for Hongjoong to do something.

Reluctantly, Hongjoong let out a sigh and closed his eyes, channeling his own power and testing the area around him, feeling for a change in the air. A shock went up his spine and his eyes snapped open, meeting the dark gaze of Jonas.

“You?” Hongjoong whispered, eyes widening.

“Ah, finally,” Jonas said with a chuckle. “See? I knew you were a smart man.” Jonas started for the door. Hongjoong moved to get to his feet but Jonas turned to face him, eyes completely blacked out. A chill swept over Hongjoong and he was unable to move. It wasn’t due to fear. It was Jonas’ doing.

“You son of a—” Hongjoong choked out but Jonas waved his hand, forcing Hongjoong’s mouth shut. “Be silent,” Jonas hissed. “I simply wanted you to know who was responsible for your downfall.” He turned to open the door and Hongjoong managed to break some of the control Jonas had over his body.

“Why?”

Jonas stopped, opening the door and peering into the room. “Why?” Jonas asked, mimicking Hongjoong’s question. “Because you were there,” Jonas answered. “That’s all you need to know. The villagers will find you guilty and you will die for it. The why does not matter. Not to you anyway.”

The door shut and Hongjoong finally regained control over his body. He rushed to the door and tried pulling at the knob but it wouldn’t budge. He pounded on the door. “Come back here you son of a bitch!” Hongjoong yelled into the wood.

After trying and failing to open the door, he finally returned to the bed to sit down, covering his face with his hands. He sighed and lifted his head to stare at the wall across from him. He had to get out of this room somehow.

He glanced around at the windowless box he was confined in.

‘But how?’

A few days passed since you’d visited Hongjoong and they were no closer to releasing him. You tried to keep up appearances, pretending to be excited for your wedding to Yeosang but each day that passed without word from your fake betrothed felt like another knife in the chest.

He hadn’t been by since sneaking you out and you were starting to lose hope again.

Your father found out about Yeosang’s visit and he had grown angry that your mother had let you leave without her. Despite agreeing to let you marry Yeosang, he was growing distrustful of the young pastor. Yeosang kept delaying the wedding, citing the case with Hongjoong and that he wants it to be resolved before marrying you.

He also didn’t seem to understand why Yeosang kept advocating for the release of Hongjoong and his claims of the latter’s innocence. The villagers were growing more and more restless, wanting some form of action to be done.

Many were demanding Hongjoong be dealt with swiftly so the curse on the village would end but at every turn, Yeosang was fighting them, demanding patience so justice could be done correctly.

Five days after your visit to Hongjoong, action came but not in the way the village or you expected.

After dinner, you were made to go to bed early and tossed and turned long after your parents went to their room. You had received new blankets for your bed after tearing apart the old ones and had them pulled up to your chin as you turned over onto your side again.

You let out a groan as the urge to urinate hit you and you begrudgingly sat up, pulling your boots on without tying the laces and got out of bed, grabbing your cloak. You carefully opened the door and headed downstairs as you put your cloak on.

Your parents initially had you locked in your room at night but when you mentioned having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and would have to pound on your door until one of them got up to let you out, they stopped locking it so they could get their sleep at night.

Outside was mostly quiet, the sound of crickets filled the air punctuated by the occasional owl hoot. You did your business, letting out a sigh as you sat on the bowl. Sleep had been avoiding you for the last couple days as you spent most nights tossing and turning.

Once you finished your business, you opened the door and stepped out, shutting it softly before turning to head back to the door. As you reached it, you felt a hand cover your mouth and an arm wrap around you, pulling you away from the door and into the shadow of your house. You kicked and struggled against your would-be attacker.

“Y/N it’s me!” a familiar voice hissed. They turned you and removed their hand from your mouth. “Yeosang?!” you whispered. “What the h—”

“I’m sorry!” he said quickly, keeping his voice down. “I tried waving at you but you didn’t see me,” he explained. You placed a hand over your heart and tried to calm your breathing. “What are you doing out here?” you finally asked.

Yeosang straightened up. “I have been waiting outside your house for hours, waiting for you to come out,” he explained. “What? Why?” you whispered. “To give you this,” he said, taking your hand and pressing a folded piece of paper into your palm.

“I don’t have much time. I have to get back,” he said, glancing around. “Wait!” you said, grabbing his arm. “How is Hongjoong?” you asked. Yeosang sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, truthfully. My key has disappeared and Jonas won’t let me in to see him. He keeps telling me Hongjoong is fine but for some reason…” he trailed off, looking worried.

“You don’t think Jonas has done something to him?” you asked. Yeosang shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t. Anyway, it won’t stop anything. I’ll just have to pick the lock and get in there.” You stared at Yeosang as he mumbled to himself before he looked up to meet your eyes.

“Go inside. I don’t want you to get in trouble,” he urged, gently pushing you towards your door. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Before you could say anything, he turned and headed in the direction of his home, disappearing into the darkness. You contemplated opening the note but decided against it and went back inside, heading up to your room and shutting the door.

Once inside, you removed your cloak and boots and sat on your bed, unfolding the piece of paper to read in the low light of your candle. Written on it in Yeosang’s hastily scribbled handwriting were four simple words.

The next day you went about your chores like normal, tending to the garden, getting eggs, helping your mother around the house. You stayed silent for the most part, only speaking when spoken to, something your mother noticed to be odd.

When she asked about it, you made up an excuse that you were just tired. Your mother fussed, checking for any sign of illness and you reassured her you were fine and that you were having a hard time sleeping at night. “Lots of tossing and turning,” you simply said.

Your father spent most of the day out of the house, helping one of the neighbors with a new pig shed after the last one had been partially destroyed by something in the middle of the night. Surprisingly, the pigs were fine.

You had hoped to see Yeosang at any point that day but you knew he was probably busy arranging yours and Hongjoong’s escape for that night. An excitement had been bubbling up inside you after reading the note last night. It wasn’t until that morning that it hit you. Soon you would be leaving the village and your old life behind and beginning a new one with Hongjoong.

Things were starting to look up.

At dinner, you sat and ate quietly while your mother and father spoke. He went on about the pig shed and the other incidents that had been happening. The villagers, your parents included, still seemed to believe Hongjoong was responsible despite him being confined to the church.

As you were finishing your meal, your exhaustion seemed to catch up to you and you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. “Y/N?” your mother asked as you almost fell asleep at the table.

“I’m all right,” you said softly. “I’m just really tired.”

Your father exchanged glances with your mother. “You haven’t been sneaking out at night, have you?” he asked sternly. You shook your head. “No,” you answered truthfully. “I just haven’t been sleeping well the last few nights.”

Your father returned his attention to his meal. “Perhaps Yeosang should stop delaying and make good on his promise to marry you. Maybe spending the night in his bed will help you sleep better.” Your mother chastised him and you ignored his words.

“M-may I be ‘scused?” you asked, slurring your words. Your mother nodded, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Of course dear,” she answered. “I’ll take care of your plate. You go on up to bed.”

You struggled to get up, your limbs feeling heavy and a weakness taking over your body. Your mother got up from her seat and helped guide you to the stairs and after a long struggle to climb them, she finally got you into your room where you collapsed onto the bed.

Your mother exited the room, shutting the door carefully and returned downstairs where your father sat. “I think I used too much,” your mother admitted as she looked at your cup. “Just keep an eye on her throughout the night,” he answered as he finished his food.

“I’m off to meet with the others,” he started, getting to his feet. Your mother looked at him apprehensively. “Is this really necessary?” she asked as your father grabbed his coat and pulled it on. “Yes,” he answered.

“The pastors aren’t doing anything about it,” he explained. “It’s up to us to keep our community safe from dangers. I will be back once it is done.”

Your mother watched as your father headed for the door and exited.

Yeosang was sitting by the window, reading from his book, when he heard the sound of shouting. Looking up he glanced out the window and saw a group of men walking towards the front steps of the church. He set the book down and got up, grabbing his coat, and headed for the door.

Once outside, he approached the men quickly.

“Good evening gentlemen,” he said politely. “How can I help you?”

“We’ve no time for your pleasantries,” a man Yeosang recognized to be Abel, said. “We’ve come to enact justice.” There were several murmurs of agreement as Yeosang looked around the group. His eyes landed on your father and a frown grew on his face.

“Y/F/N, what is this about?” he asked. Your father narrowed his eyes. “The villagers are restless, Pastor Kang. Uneasy even. They know the witch is being held in the church, our place of worship. They feel it is being tainted with its presence and that it must answer for crimes committed against our community. We must purge the village of its curses and its filth!”

The others agreed loudly and Yeosang stepped closer. “Is that really why you’re here?” he asked. “Or is it perhaps for another reason? A more… personal one?” A brief look of fear crossed your father’s face before being replaced with anger.

“Step aside, Pastor, and let us handle the heretic.”

Yeosang shook his head. “No,” he replied. “We have not concluded our investigation.”

“Damn your investigation!” another man shouted. “We’re tired of waiting! You have the culprit inside the church! He’s the witch!” Yeosang held his hands up in an attempt to calm the small mob. “Gentlemen, please! Let’s not act rashly.”

His pleas went unheard as the men grew more and more restless. “I’m sorry, Pastor Kang,” your father said. “But you can’t stop us. We’re here to serve justice.”

“This isn’t justice!” Yeosang said loudly. “You’re condemning an innocent man to a painful death!” The men ignored him and pushed past, climbing the steps and pushing open the doors to the church with Yeosang in tow.

“Stop! You cannot do this!”

“Go get him, Pastor Kang,” your father said. “We will wait.” Yeosang hesitated. “I do not have a key,” Yeosang responded. One of the men, who Yeosang recognized as Gideon, pushed him roughly, almost knocking Yeosang to the floor. “Liar!” he spat. Your father stepped in, placing a hand on Gideon’s chest. “Calm yourself, Gideon,” he said.

“He’s protecting the witch!” Gideon spat, pointing at Yeosang. “He should be punished, too!” Your father pushed Gideon back. “Watch your words, Gideon! He is a man of the cloth!” That seemed to snap Gideon out of his momentary lapse in judgment. He turned to Yeosang and bowed his head. “My apologies, Pastor,” he said softly.

“I am not lying,” Yeosang explained. “My key has disappeared.” The men grumbled in annoyance. “What is all this noise?” a voice called from the podium. The men and Yeosang turned to find Jonas standing there. “Sorry for the intrusion, Pastor,” your father started. “We’ve come for Hongjoong.”

Jonas looked from the men to Yeosang. “We just want to talk to him,” Abel said. Yeosang turned to glare at him for lying in a holy place. “Talk? By all means, let them talk to him, Pastor Kang,” Jonas said. Yeosang turned to him.

“I do not have a key,” Yeosang answered. “Mine seems to have been misplaced.”

Jonas reached into his own pocket and produced the key. “Use mine,” he said. Yeosang stared at him with a pleading look. “These men are not here to talk to him,” Yeosang explained. “They’ve come to enact what they feel is justice upon a man we are not even certain is guilty!”

Jonas looked from Yeosang to the men who fell silent. “I see,” Jonas said softly. “In that case…” Jonas said, trailing off as he set the key on the podium. Yeosang’s brow furrowed in confusion but before he could speak, something hard hit the back of his head, white hot pain bursting throughout. He cried out in pain, stars blinding his vision as he fell to his knees.

There was a mad dash, shuffling of feet. He barely heard the sound of your father thanking Jonas before his vision went dark and he slumped to the floor, blacking out.

Hongjoong heard a commotion coming from the main room of the church and looked up as a cry of pain rang out, sounding suspiciously like Yeosang. There was a stampeding of heavy footfalls before he heard the lock to his door being unlocked and the door flew open with a loud bang.

His eyes widened as several of the men of the village entered his room and moved towards him. “What is going on?” Hongjoong demanded as they grabbed him. “Be silent, witch!” one of the men said before stuffing a piece of cloth in Hongjoong’s mouth.

“We’ve come to deliver vengeance and rid our village of your filth!”

“Death to the witch!”

The men dragged him from the bed and started pulling him through the door where Hongjoong was met by the smug expression of your father. ‘Of course.’

“Take him to the tree,” your father stated plainly. Hongjoong tried to pull away but the men had a strong hold on him and dragged him down the hall and into the chapel. Hongjoong noticed Yeosang passed out on the floor before looking up towards the podium where Jonas stood.

Hongjoong tried to fight against the hold the men had on him, screaming against his gag, but it was no use, the men dragged him from the church, despite his kicking and struggling against them. The last thing he saw before being dragged out of the church was the smug expression of Jonas, his eyes blacked out and then the doors swung shut.

Yeosang woke up, his head pounding as he tried to get up. He managed to push himself up to his knees and reached up to the spot where he’d been struck which was tender to the touch. He pulled his hand back, thankful to see he was not bleeding.

He looked around the empty room before he came to his senses.

“Hongjoong!”

He got up, stumbling for a moment. He used the wall as support as he made his way down the hall to the room at the end where he found an empty bed. “No,” he murmured, stumbling back into the chapel and over to the door, throwing it open and ambling down the steps.

As he reached the ground, a fresh wave of pain coursed through him, strong enough to make him retch. He managed to get a grip on himself and made his way through the village, using what he could to keep himself upright and on his feet.

A flash of lightning illuminated the village briefly, followed by a deep rumble of thunder in the distance. A storm was coming.

Maybe if he hurried, he would be able to stop them.

Consciousness came to you slowly. You woke with a heavy head and your limbs still heavy from sleep. You tried to sit up but found you could barely move. This was not the usual grogginess that followed your sleep.

You forced your eyes open, your vision slowly coming back as the ceiling of your room came into view. You blinked a few times, trying to force the sleepiness from your eyes. As the rafters merged, you tried to pull yourself up into a sitting position.

You turned to look out the window and noticed it was pitch black outside. “How long have I been asleep?” you mumbled. You tried to get up on wobbly legs and stumbled towards the door. You stopped by the wardrobe and opened it, grabbing the sack you’d packed.

You didn’t bother being quiet as you wrenched the door open, a loud clap of thunder sounding in the distance. You descended the steps as quickly as you could and stopped, catching sight of your mother sitting in her rocking chair as she mended one of your father’s coats. She looked up, taking sight of the bag in your hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, looking up at you. Taking a deep breath and tightening your grip on the bag you finally put your foot down. “I’m leaving,” you answered. Your mother stared at you for a moment before going back to her mending. “Nonsense,” she replied. “You’re getting married soon. You can’t leave.”

You stared at her incredulously. “What?” you whispered. “You’re not leaving. That’s final.”

You scoffed and started for the door. “Y/N Y/L/N!” your mother shouted and you turned to face her. “I’m an adult,” you snapped. “You may be my mother but you cannot hold me here against my will. I am leaving!”

The front door opened behind you and your father appeared, clothes covered in dirt. You looked at him, taking in his appearance. He didn’t acknowledge you at first, instead addressing your mother. “It is done,” he said, sounding exhausted.

You turned to your mother who lifted a hand to cover her mouth. “It was for the best,” she said in response. You looked between the two. Your father finally noticed you and looked at the bag in your hand. “Where are you going?” he asked. “I’m leaving,” you answered.

Your father let out a cold laugh as he moved to sit in the chair next to your mother. “No you’re not,” he answered. “There’s nowhere for you to go.” You glared at him. “It doesn’t matter. I’m tired of staying here, listening to your nonsense! I’m leaving!”

“You really are an ungrateful brat,” your father said, shaking his head.

“Excuse me?” you asked, taking a step closer.

“We gave you life, kept a roof over your head, clothed you, fed you, taught you, and this is how you repay us?” your father asked. “With contempt and disobedience?”

“I never asked to be born!” you screamed. “I didn’t ask for any of this! You’re my parents! You’re supposed to do those things! That’s the bare minimum!”

“Do not raise your voice at your father!” your mother snapped.

“Fuck you,” you spat. “Fuck both of you.”

Your father got up and advanced on you but you were ready for him. When he tried to hit you, instead you swung your bag at him, hitting him in the side of the head and making him stagger. “I’m not your property or some beast you can beat into submission!” you shouted. “I am a human! A woman! I deserve respect as such and you will not lay another hand on me!”

“Where do you think you’re going to go!?” your mother shouted. “Your lover is dead!”

You froze as you reached the door, hand on the knob. You turned back to look at your mother who had a hand over her mouth. “What did you just say?” you whispered. “The witch is dead,” your father repeated. “We hung him from a tree and buried his body in the woods.”

Your heart sank, heat rising to your face as you tried to hold back tears.

“You’re lying,” you spat. “Yeosang would never allow you to—”

“Jonas gave us his key,” your father interrupted as he got to his feet, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. “Here,” he said, his voice void of any emotion as he tossed whatever it was at your feet. “Proof that your precious witch is dead.”

You looked down at your feet, kneeling to pick up the object which turned out to be a necklace, a small gasp escaping you as you recognized the pendant. It was Hongjoong’s. You would know this amulet anywhere.

You looked up at your father who had a smug smile on his face. “Believe it now? Your lover is dead and his soul rotting in Hell where he belongs.”

The anger that had been bubbling inside you reached a boiling point and rage fueled your actions. You dropped the bag and lunged for your father, ducking his attempt to hit you and knocked him to the ground, striking him anywhere you could reach. When your mother tried to stop you, you knocked her aside, grabbed one of her knitting needles and raised it above your head.

“Y/N NO!” your mother screamed. You brought it down, stabbing it into the floor next to your father’s head, panting heavily. You leaned over him. “You try to follow me,” you said in a low tone. “And I won’t hesitate to kill you,” you hissed. “You are not my father. I hope Satan himself rises from Hell and drags you there for what you’ve done.”

You got off him, offering a swift kick to his side before turning to your mother. “And you belong with him. What kind of mother stands aside while her husband beats their child and murders an innocent man. You two deserve each other and I hope you enjoy the fires of Hell.”

Without another word, you headed for the door, stopping to grab your bag, before you wrenched open the door and left, slamming it hard behind you.

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