#wong kunhang angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keehomania · 17 days

Note

hiiya! can i please please ask for something, ANYTHING about hendery? i kinda want to see him subby, but it’s more like him being whipped but then he takes the lead. do whatever you want with this

SWITCH-UP — WONG KUNHANG (黄冠亨) (18+)

✧°, MDNI

field trips were often the same, no matter the school. Herding into buses with chatter buzzing, students bemoaning the long ride or rolling their eyes at the thought of a mundane museum tour. a typical day out of the classroom, yet not much different from sitting at a desk. teachers barely holding the reins, students sneaking off for a smoke or gossip in secluded corners. for most, it was a rare break from monotony. these excursions usually ceased after the third year of high school, as if to mark a rite of passage into adulthood, where such frivolities no longer held space. but your university—oh, it was different.

here, nothing followed tradition, least of all the idea that field trips were for the young and naive. your university wasn’t bound by convention, and why would it be? prestige and wealth had a way of bending the rules. field trips continued well into your final years, an indulgence rather than an obligation, a reflection of the privilege sewn into the very fabric of your life. you didn’t mind. in fact, you’d grown to love it, this life shaped by the whims of the rich.

money came easy, after all. so did publicity and popularity, two byproducts of your academic brilliance and sharp athleticism. it all fit together like a carefully crafted puzzle, each piece adding another layer to your identity. it was a package deal—the intelligence, the skill. you had learned to navigate it seamlessly, embracing the unspoken power it gave you. you knew exactly who you were and how to wield that knowledge to your advantage.

your only flaw, some would say, was that you were a bitch. you weren’t ashamed of it. why should you be? the world you lived in didn’t reward kindness; it rewarded control. and you had control in spades. no one had their way with you—no one ever would. you were sharp, unyielding, and yes, at times cruel. it wasn’t something you denied, not even to yourself. the whispers in the hallways, the glances exchanged in the bathroom as girls fixed their lipstick in the mirror—it was all the same. they called you a bitch, and you owned it. better to be feared than forgotten.

the only person who didn’t seem to see you through that lens was kunhang. where others whispered behind your back or trembled in your presence, he adored you. bright and bubbly, he was the rare exception, the one who refused to believe you were anything but assertive. he defended you relentlessly, as if worshipping your very existence. he was infatuated, and it showed in every wide-eyed gaze, every laugh that burst from his lips when you were near.

you had thought it was natural for a boyfriend to be protective, to spin the narrative in your favor, but kunhang wasn’t faking it. he looked at you as though you hung the moon, as though every sharp word and cool glance only added to the mystique that made you irresistible. whipped didn’t even begin to cover it. he was enamored, and while you didn’t let many get close, he had earned his place. perhaps it was his earnestness, or maybe the way he never flinched in the face of your cutting remarks. he didn’t just accept you as you were; he adored you for it.

you allowed yourself to be softer around him, just a little. when his hand found yours, you didn’t pull away. at first, the gesture had felt awkward—foreign even—but over time, you grew to hold it with pride. kunhang, ever affectionate, was quick to pull you in for a kiss or wrap you in a hug, and while you rarely initiated, you never denied him. his adoration was intoxicating in its simplicity, and in those moments, you almost forgot the weight of your reputation. you almost forgot that in the eyes of everyone else, you were untouchable, untamable—a bitch with no patience for weakness. but with him, you let yourself lean into something softer, even if just for a moment.

the only reason you had walked hand-in-hand through the dense forest toward the campsite, surrounded by your classmates, was because of him. kunhang’s grip on your hand was tighter than yours, but you didn’t mind. his smile, bright and pure, was contagious enough to make you forget the slight discomfort of the heat or the uneven path beneath your feet. as you both neared the site, his eyes lit up with barely contained excitement. “we’re gonna share a tent, right?” his voice was laced with eagerness, the undertone making your smile widen.

“i was thinking of sleeping alone,” you teased, letting your tone carry an air of false seriousness. for a moment, you saw his grin falter, a frown quickly replacing the earlier joy, and you nearly regretted your words. “i’m just kidding,” you added, the corner of your lips quirking upwards as relief washed over him, his radiant smile returning.

the campsite was nestled between towering trees, their branches draping like a protective canopy over the rows of tents that your classmates had begun setting up. the scent of pine hung in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the damp ground beneath your feet. it was simple, perhaps too simple for a group as accustomed to luxury as yours, but there was a certain charm in the ruggedness. the makeshift fire pit in the center of the site flickered with the beginnings of a small flame, casting long shadows across the clearing. logs arranged in a circle around it served as seats for your group, who laughed and chatted as they worked to establish a sense of comfort in the wilderness.

you leaned back in your folding chair, watching as hendery—no, kunhang, to everyone else—struggled momentarily with the tent’s poles. his tongue poked out in concentration, brows furrowed in determination. it was amusing, the way he worked so hard, so focused. he wanted everything to be perfect, to prove himself capable. and you—well, you were perfectly content admiring him from a distance.

“nice job, kunhang,” a voice chimed in from nearby, and you turned to see one of the girls from your class offering him a thumbs-up, her face lit with a smile. she seemed harmless enough, but the sight of her addressing him so familiarly made something inside you tighten. to everyone else, he was kunhang, the boy with the easy laugh and friendly demeanor. but to you? he was hendery, your hendery. the nickname was yours alone, something intimate that others had no right to touch.

“keep walking,” you snapped, your voice sharp enough to slice through the air like a whip. the girl’s smile faltered, her eyes darting to her friend for support before they both hurried off, the lightness in their steps fading into an awkward shuffle. hendery couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped from his lips, amused by the situation. he glanced at you, eyes filled with that familiar adoration, but said nothing.

the dinner that followed was as expected. adequate. passable. you couldn’t expect much from camp food, after all. it was edible, at least, and that was enough for the evening. you ate in silence, content to let the sounds of the forest and the chatter of your classmates fill the gaps. hendery, on the other hand, watched you with a quiet smile, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he was holding back a secret. you met his gaze, raising an eyebrow as you chewed. “what? is my makeup creasing?” you asked, feigning concern while your eyes glinted with humor.

he smiled softly, shaking his head. “i have to stare,” he murmured, his voice dropping low, almost reverent. “you’re so beautiful.” compliments had always come easily to you, especially in this world of wealth and admiration. but his words—his simple, unadorned praise—held a different weight. they felt genuine in a way that made your heart stutter, your cheeks warming under the softness of his gaze. you could never quite get used to it, no matter how often he said it. there was something about the way he looked at you, something that made you feel seen in a way that was both flattering and unsettling.

tonight, though, his gaze lingered too long, and it wasn’t just admiration that danced behind his eyes. there was something more—something heated, almost guilty. his eyes roamed, caught on the way your shorts hugged your legs, the loose strands of hair framing your face in the gentle evening breeze, the smudged remnants of your makeup after a long day outdoors. it was nothing special, nothing you hadn’t worn a hundred times before, yet his gaze made you feel exposed, almost vulnerable. you knew that look. it wasn’t just admiration; it was something far more intense, far more complicated.

“you must like me a lot if you think i look good like this,” you teased lightly, finishing the last of your meal before rising to take your bowl away. you expected him to laugh, maybe to throw back a quick retort, but when you glanced down, you saw the unmistakable flush that colored his cheeks, the way his eyes widened in sudden panic. it was an accidental glance, something you hadn’t meant to see—but there it was. the bulge in his sweats was impossible to miss, painfully obvious, and the shade of crimson that darkened his face only confirmed it.

“no way,” you scoffed in amusement, the laugh bubbling out of you before you could stop it. he moved quickly, bringing his hands up to cover himself in a desperate attempt to hide the evidence, but it was too late. his stammered apology came out in broken fragments, his voice shaking with embarrassment. “i’m so— i’m so sorry—” he didn’t know where to look, how to explain, and the sheer mortification on his face was almost enough to make you feel bad for him. almost.

“move your hands,” you commanded, your voice cutting through his flustered panic with the same authority you always carried. hendery hesitated, but he always did as you asked. slowly, shakily, he let his hands fall away, his eyes darting around to make sure no one else had noticed. but it was just the two of you now, and your laughter echoed softly in the quiet space between you. “you’re joking,” you muttered, half in disbelief, half in amusement. but no, there it was, even more prominent now, standing to attention as if mocking him in his helplessness. you met his gaze again, and his eyes, slick with unshed tears of shame, only made the situation more surreal.

acoffing, you set your bowl down with a sigh before reaching for his hand. you didn’t give him time to react, to protest, as you pulled him out of his seat and away from the others, leading him toward the shadowed cover of the forest. “what are you doing?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, sniffling in confusion. you tugged him along with little regard for his unease. “no one’s looking. come on,” you paused, turning to face him, “don’t cry just yet.”

the forest around you felt silent and still, the distant crackle of the campfire muffled by the heavy, thick air that clung to your skin. you didn’t care about anything else—not the others back at the campsite, not the thin veil of night creeping over the treetops. it was just you and hendery now, and the pounding of his heartbeat that seemed to echo through the night. you pressed him against the rough bark of the tree, the jagged surface biting into his back, and his breath hitched in his throat. his chest rose and fell in uneven, jagged breaths, each one sharper than the last. his eyes were wide, glistening with unshed tears of embarrassment, and he stared at you like a deer caught in headlights, his lips quivering as he struggled to hold back.

you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his face, and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his whole body trembling beneath your touch. “didn’t i tell you not to cry?” you asked, your voice rough, almost daring him to break the command. the weight of your words lingered in the air between you both, heavy and suffocating.

his response came in the form of a shaky nod, his hands gripping the tree behind him for stability as he wiped hastily at the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. you watched the movement, your gaze unwavering, hard. but then, as you let your eyes drop lower, to the obvious bulge in his sweats, it was impossible to ignore the way it strained against the fabric, pressing insistently as if begging for attention.

you tilted your head slightly, smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “what’s all the fuss?” you murmured, your tone shifting, softening like silk draping over his skin. the change in your voice had an immediate effect on him. you watched as his dick twitched visibly through his sweats, a reaction he couldn’t hide if he tried. a choked sound escaped his lips, something between a gasp and a whimper, and his cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson. the embarrassment in his eyes was replaced with something else now—something more primal, more desperate.

“are you really that desperate?” you asked, leaning in closer until your breath was ghosting over his ear, your voice dripping with amusement. “are you that big of a pervert, baby?” your hand dropped lower, nails lightly grazing over the length of his clothed shaft. even through the layers of fabric, you could feel it—the way it pulsed, hard and warm, straining against the confines of his sweats as if begging for more. the touch was light, teasing, but it was enough to make him tremble, his knees buckling slightly as he leaned further back against the tree for support.

his mouth fell open as a whimper finally escaped, his head tilting back against the rough bark. “i’m sorry,” he whimpered, his voice broken and small, almost pleading. “i’m so sorry.” you scoffed, unimpressed by his pitiful apology, and in one swift motion, your touch went from teasing to something far harsher. your hand tightened around his bulge, squeezing with just enough force to make him cry out, a loud, needy moan spilling from his lips before he could stop it. his body jerked against the tree, and his breath came out in shallow, desperate gasps.

“you’re sorry?” you mocked, raising an eyebrow as you loosened your grip just slightly. his face twisted in a mixture of shame and pleasure, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way he trembled under your control. “show me how sorry you are.” your words cut through the haze of his mind, and before he had time to process them, you were on him again. your hand tightened once more, eliciting another loud, desperate moan from his lips as you pressed your body closer to his. without warning, your lips crashed against his, silencing his moans as your mouths moved together in a frantic, messy kiss.

he kissed back immediately, unable to restrain himself any longer. his lips moved against yours, hungry, desperate, his hands scrambling to find purchase on your body as his mind spiraled out of control. it was all too much—the way your hand gripped him, the way your lips claimed his with such possessive force, the way your body pressed against him, making it impossible to think, impossible to breathe.

every whimper, every moan that slipped from his lips was muffled by your mouth, and you could feel the way his body responded, the way he shuddered under your touch, utterly at your mercy. he kissed you like he was drowning, like you were the only thing keeping him afloat in the suffocating weight of his desire. and you knew, from the way he trembled, from the way he gasped into your mouth, that you had him exactly where you wanted him.

you pulled back from the kiss, leaving him panting, breathless, lips swollen from the frantic mess you’d made of him. his head hung low, hair falling into his eyes as he tried to collect himself, chest heaving with the weight of every desperate breath. his cheeks were stained red, a shade darker than before, and the faint shimmer of tears still clung to his lashes. “look at you,” you whispered, voice low and sharp, like the edge of a blade grazing skin. “what would they think if they saw you like this? if they saw how desperate you are for me?”

your words hit him like a punch, and his whole body tensed against the tree. his eyes shot up to meet yours, wide and panicked, as if the thought of anyone else knowing what was happening between you terrified him more than anything. but there was no escaping it, not now. you could see the conflict in his gaze—the lingering embarrassment colliding headfirst with the raw, unfiltered lust that was consuming him whole. “i—” his voice broke, small and weak, as he struggled to find the words, shaking his head helplessly. “i can’t help it,” he breathed, the confession falling from his lips like a prayer. “i’m desperate for you.”

his answer hung in the air, heavy and thick with tension, and you could see the shame in his eyes, the way he was utterly, hopelessly whipped for you. it was almost pathetic—the way he looked at you, wide-eyed and trembling, like he’d give anything just to feel you again, just to hear you speak his name. “desperate,” you repeated, tasting the word on your tongue, savoring it as you leaned closer, your lips ghosting over his ear. “is that what you are, baby? desperate?”

his breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping his throat as he pressed himself harder against the tree, as if trying to disappear into the bark, trying to hide from the humiliation that was burning him from the inside out. but he couldn’t hide—not from you. not when you had him pinned like this, trapped under the weight of your words, completely at your mercy. his eyes squeezed shut, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself together. the humiliation was etched into every line of his face, every breath that passed his lips, and yet the bulge in his sweats only seemed to grow more pronounced, more insistent with every word that spilled from your mouth.

“tell me, baby,” you continued, your voice softening, a cruel sweetness seeping into your tone. “are you ashamed? do you like being this desperate for me?” he swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he answered, “i—i can’t stop. i—” he broke off, breath catching in his throat, eyes flicking up to meet yours, pleading. “i just, i need you.”

his confession was raw, dripping with need, and it sent a thrill through you, a rush of power that made your lips curl into a smirk. you let your hand drift lower, fingers brushing lightly over his clothed length, feeling the way he twitched under your touch, the way his breath hitched in his throat. “of course you do,” you murmured, eyes darkening as you tightened your grip, feeling him pulse beneath your fingers. “but you don’t get to have me until i say so.”

a sharp gasp tore from his lips as you squeezed, his body jerking forward instinctively, as if trying to chase the touch, but you pulled back just as quickly, watching as his face twisted in frustration and need. his hands clung to the bark behind him, knuckles turning white with the effort of holding back, of staying still, of not falling apart completely beneath you. “such a sweet boy,” you mocked, the words dripping with sarcasm as your other hand slipped up to his jaw, forcing him to look at you. his eyes were glassy, tears threatening to spill over again, and it only made you smirk wider, relishing the sight of him so undone.

he opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat, and all that came out was a soft, broken moan as your hand drifted lower again, fingers slipping just beneath the waistband of his sweats. you could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his whole body trembled under your touch, and it made you laugh softly, a dark, amused sound that made him shudder. “you’re already this hard,” you noted, your tone a mixture of disbelief and mockery as you tugged at the waistband, pulling his sweats down just enough to free his length. it sprung up, hard and eager, and the sight of it only made your smirk deepen. “are you really that big of a pervert?”

his face flushed a deeper shade of red, and he bit down on his lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. but he couldn’t stop it, not with your hand wrapping around him, stroking slowly, deliberately, your grip tight enough to make him squirm. “i—” his voice broke again, barely a whisper, and he whimpered as your fingers grazed the sensitive tip, teasing him, driving him to the edge without giving him what he so desperately wanted. “please.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer until your lips brushed against his ear, your voice low and taunting. “please what, baby? tell me what you want.” he shuddered, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, and he tilted his head back, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to find the words, his whole body trembling with the effort. “please,” he whispered again, voice cracking, “i—i need to fuck you.” your smirk widened at his desperation, at the way he was so willing to beg for you, to completely submit to whatever you wanted from him. and you weren’t about to let that go unrewarded.

with one swift movement, you pulled his sweats down further, exposing more of him to the cool night air, and your hand wrapped around him fully, stroking with just enough pressure to make him gasp, his hips bucking instinctively into your touch. his moans were soft at first, barely audible, but as your pace quickened, they grew louder, more desperate, more needy. “you like this, don’t you?” you whispered, your voice dripping with amusement as you watched the way his face twisted in pleasure. “being so completely at my mercy.”

his response was a broken, breathless moan, and his hands scrambled to find something to hold onto, fingers digging into the bark behind him as his body shook with the intensity of it all. you could see the way his tears threatened to spill over again, the way his whole body trembled beneath your touch, and it only fueled the fire inside you, the desire to completely undo him. leaning in, you kissed him again, hard and unrelenting, swallowing his moans as your hand continued to work him, the heat between you growing with every passing second. his lips moved against yours, messy and eager, his desperation seeping into every kiss, every touch, until all that was left was the sound of his broken moans and the sharp, needy gasps that filled the air around you.

you pulled back, letting him pant against you, his eyes blinking open to meet yours, glazed with a mix of passion and despair. “you wanna fuck me? fill my pussy up?” you asked, your voice a low purr that sent a shiver down his spine. he nodded frantically, his breaths coming in short, stuttering bursts as he choked out a single word. “yes, please, fuck.”

you stepped back, your hand sliding away from his cock, leaving him standing there, exposed and desperate. your eyes raked over him, taking in the sight of his shaking legs, his flushed skin, the way he was barely holding himself together. “not yet,” you murmured, the smirk never leaving your lips as you turned away, heading back towards the tents. he stumbled after you, sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyes never leaving your retreating form.

you reached your tent, the one you’d so confidently claimed earlier, and without looking back, you slipped inside. you could hear his footsteps hastening, the sound of him tripping over a root, his gasp of pain muffled by the thick carpet of leaves beneath his feet. you didn’t bother with the zipper, letting the flap fall open behind you as you moved deeper into the tent, his eyes following you like a starving man watching food being dangled just out of reach.

his eyes never left yours as he stumbled in after you, his movements clumsy with desire. you let your shirt fall to the ground, revealing your lacy bra, your breasts heaving with every breath you took. his gaze dropped to your chest, his mouth watering at the sight, and you could see the way his cock twitched in response. “you sure you want it?” you taunted, cupping your breasts, your thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. his eyes snapped back to yours, a silent plea, and you laughed, the sound echoing through the tent.

you stepped closer, your hand reaching out to trace the line of his jaw before sliding down to grip his neck, your thumb resting against his pulse point. it was racing, a frantic drumbeat that matched the thundering in your own chest. “you can have it,” you whispered, leaning in until your breath mingled with his, “but only if you can handle it. can you handle me, baby?” your voice was a challenge, a promise wrapped in a warning, and he nodded, his eyes wide with need.

your hand slid down to the base of his throat, your grip tightening as you pushed him back onto the makeshift bed, the sleeping bag rustling beneath him. he lay there, panting, his cock standing tall and proud, begging for attention. but you weren’t done playing yet. with a wicked smile, you straddled him, your legs on either side of his hips, your pussy hovering just above his dick. the warmth of him radiated through the fabric of your shorts, making you wet, making you ache for more. you leaned in, pressing your chest against his, the feel of his heart hammering against yours as you whispered into his ear, “are you sure you can handle this?”

his only response was a desperate nod, and you couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound dark and thrilling. you reached behind you, unbuttoning your shorts with a flick of your thumbs before sliding them down, your ass cheeks exposed to the cool night air. his eyes followed the movement, his pupils dilating with want, and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted. “just like that,” you murmured, the praise sending a jolt of pleasure through him. “now, let’s see if you can be quiet for me, okay?”

you ground down onto him, the fabric of your panties rubbing against his cock, the friction setting your nerves alight. he groaned, his hands coming up to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. but you slapped them away, a smirk playing on your lips. “no touching, unless i say so,” you warned, the words a hiss that sent a shiver down his spine. his eyes searched yours, desperate for understanding, for reassurance, but all he found was the same cold, hard stare.

his breath hitched as you reached back, sliding your panties to the side, and you could feel his cock, hot and insistent, pressing against your wetness. you took a deep breath, savoring the moment before you sank down onto him, the head of his dick parting your folds, filling you inch by delicious inch. his eyes rolled back in his head, a deep, guttural moan ripping from his throat as you took him fully, your pussy tightening around him like a vice.

the tent was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, the wet sounds of your pussy taking him, the harshness of your breath as you rode him, his muffled moans as you dictated the pace. it was intoxicating, the power you had over him, the way he was so desperate for you, so completely and utterly lost in your control. your hips rocked back and forth, grinding down onto him, each movement bringing you closer to the edge, your eyes never leaving his. but it took a turn, one that you could clearly see in his eyes. his expression darkened at the sensation of your cunt clenching against his slick cock, and you could feel your ego dissipate as he grabbed onto your hips. his hands were rough and stronger than anticipated as he pinned you down, his dick never daring to slide put of you.

his thrusts grew more demanding, less submissive, and a thrill shot through your body at the sudden shift. his eyes bore into yours, a silent challenge, and you felt something within you unravel, something that hadn't been touched by anyone else. your breasts bounced with the force of his thrusts, your nipples tight and sensitive against the fabric of your bra. you could feel the beginnings of your climax, the tension coiling in your belly, but he was relentless, driving into you like he was trying to claim a piece of you that you hadn't known was yours to give.

his teeth grazed your earlobe, his breath hot and needy as he whispered, “this pussy’s all mine.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you weren’t the one in charge anymore. you were just another person, a body that was his to use, his to claim. your pussy clenched around him as he fucked you harder, the sound of your slapping flesh echoing in the tent. you threw your head back, moaning loudly, and the vibration of the sound only seemed to spur him on, his grip tightening, his thrusts growing deeper.

his eyes searched yours, looking for approval, for a sign that this was what you wanted, and you met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. your hand reached back, grasping his neck, pulling him closer until your mouths met again in a kiss that was anything but gentle. your teeth clashed, your tongues battling for dominance as you both gave into the carnality of the moment. his fingers dug into your skin, leaving bruises that would last a long while. “some power you have over me,” he mocked, pausing to pull out before slamming back in with a growl. “what power? so bold while i’m splitting you in half.”

you threw your head back, a gasp escaping your throat as he hit just the right spot, the one that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back. “keep going,” you managed to murmur, your voice strained with pleasure. “don’t stop, hendery. please don’t stop.” and he didn’t. he kept fucking you, hard and fast, his grip on your hips unyielding, his rhythm punishing. you could feel yourself getting wetter, your pussy gripping him tighter with every thrust, and it was delicious, it was maddening, it was everything you hadn’t realized you’d been craving.

his hand slid up to cup one of your breasts, his thumb flicking over the nipple through the fabric of your bra. the sensation was electric, shooting straight to your core, making you arch your back and push down onto him even harder. “you like that?” he asked, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. “you like when i use you?” you nodded, unable to form coherent words, and he chuckled, the sound dark and triumphant. he pulled the cup of your bra down, exposing your nipple to the cool air, and took it into his mouth, sucking and biting until you were writhing beneath him, your cries growing louder and more desperate.

his other hand slid down to your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you bucking your hips up to meet his touch. the pleasure was almost too much to bear, pressure building within you that threatened to consume you whole. “cum for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice a command that resonated through your body. “let me hear you fall apart, fuck.” and you did. with a loud, guttural cry that seemed to shake the very earth beneath you, you came, your pussy spasming around his cock, your body shaking with the intensity of it all.

he didn’t stop, though, his movements growing even more erratic as he chased his own release. you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tightened and his breath grew ragged. and then, with one final, brutal thrust, he came, his cum filling you up, the warmth of it spreading through your core. your eyes locked onto his, the intimacy of the moment so intense it was almost painful. for a few seconds, you just laid there, panting, your hearts beating as one, the world outside the tent forgotten. however, it wasn’t.

✧

a/n: this was lowkey rushed but it’s 2 am i’m so sorry

26 notes · View notes

swee7dream · 2 months

Text

care for a sweet treat ?

swee7dream's 威神V masterlist . last updated : jul 17, 2023

all members

wayv as agere caregivers — bulletpoints ( work in progress )

genres : agere content, fluff . warnings : to be determined . summary : how i think the visions would be as caregivers to an age regressor !

qian kun

nothing yet... maybe request something ?

li yongqin

scaredy cat — one-shot ( requested + work in progress )

genres : agere content, fluff . warnings : to be determined . summary : "...i just think that ten would be like the bestest cg EVER !?! like omg WAIT meeting his cats for the first time but the baby is kinda scared ? id love anything with cg!ten but like literally hear me out on this one.. let me cook..."

dong sicheng

nothing yet... maybe request something ?

xiao dejun

nothing yet... maybe request something ?

wong kunhang

nothing yet... maybe request something ?

liu yangyang

babbles of the night — one-shot ( requested + work in progress )

genres : agere content, fluff, comfort . warnings : to be determined . summary : "could u write ab cg yangyang w a little reader w trouble sleeping... ( mayhaps w baby reader but irdm the age range )"

18 notes · View notes

gonelike-ach00 · 1 year

Text

Crowned Princec | Hendery

Prince! Hendery x Princess! Female Original Character

Author: gonelike_achoo

Genre: Romance, Drama, Arranged marriage, royalties

Word Count: 3,085

Warnings: war, violence, complex family relationships, pseudo incest (not main story, but be warned), sexual relationships

Preview: Where Hendery finds himself in an arranged marriage he can not runaway from- just as he has for everything else in his life. He has planned to runaway from the throne, but marrying the princess from the kingdom besided theirs served as his biggest hindrance.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

previous | masterlist | next

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

2 ♚ Kingdom of Hwei

Just the evening that following the gathering of the lands, Taeha, after supper with her family– what was left of her family rather– on the way back to her room sitting quite close to the often noise filled room of the crowned prince and his family, there was something much rumbustious than the room beside hers.

“What kind of commotion are you making inside my room?” As soon as she turned into her room she faced her lady-in-waiting.

A number of maids and other castle staff were packing her stuff into bags and some into huge crates. Confused with what was going on all she could turn her frustration with was her lady-in-waiting, or her soon to be retired lady-in-waiting.

“Your highness,” she simply bows her head to acknowledge the princess’s presence. Her lady-in-waiting grew up with the crowned princess, thus her friendly demeanor while ignoring the presence of one of the most important people of her kingdom.

“You aren’t even going to turn around and converse with me?” The princess whines, but all she got was a simple smile from the lady, a little too stoic to be considered the best lady-in-waiting her kingdom has to offer her. “What is all this fuss, especially keeping my items in a box? Where will they be shipped out to?” Though, she wasn’t exactly dumb enough to understand what was happening, at the back of her mind she had her suspicions.

“I am simply following orders, your highness.” The lady checks a box from her list, as a few ladies carry out her luggage.

Was she about to sleep in an empty room tonight?

Knowing full well she won’t be hearing anything from her lady-in-waiting she walks out of her room, her footsteps heavy in the process. As soon as she turned the corner, she was greeted by the entourage of her brother’s family, complete with the crowned prince himself, his wife, his two children, their maids and body guards. Indeed, there was nothing more important than the next royal family.

“You look upset, Taeha.” Taeil, his brother, couldn’t be more obvious with what was clearly written all over her face.

“Do I appear so?” She nearly rushes past the family and their entourage, but is stopped when her brother grabs her by the wrist. “It is improper to stop someone by the wrist, brother.”

“Are you looking for father?”

“Who else shall I look for when I am fuming?” Another box that was filled with her stuff passes through the halls. Her eyes could simply follow her items as they disappeared from her sight. Again, not as mindless as she often makes herself out to be, she knew where those items were headed.

“It has not been long since he left the table,” Taeil sighs knowing full well her anger was rooted in something reasonable, “he is probably sharing his late night tea with mama, just as they always do.” That was all the princess needed to hear before rushing towards her father’s tea room, one that was closed off to kids below twelve and was applied whether you were royalty or not.

Taeha raises her hands up and knocks, just as it usually does, the reply comes a bit late. “Come in,” was the muffled reply that came from the other side of the door.

She swings the door open to see her mother sitting with a hot cup of tea in her hands and observing the door open. On the opposite side of the table sat her father, dressed down in a much more comfortable attire, but one that screamed that he was king nonetheless. His pressed down shirt, cleanly slicked back hair and posture that was deeply ingrained into his body.

“Taeha,” he calls out the name of his youngest child, “what brings you in need of my attention as soon as we finish dinner?”

“You have mastered feigning innocence father,” she crosses her arms over her chest as if she was a child.

Taemu takes a few seconds to understand what she was talking about. Before realization even shows on his face, he simply takes a sip out of his tea. “It should not come as a surprise, the customs of dealing with a marriage between two kingdoms run deep.”

“I have never heard of such a circumstance where two betrotheds have to live under one roof?”

“The case is different when two kingdoms engage.” Taemu sighs. “The distance would seem to hinder the process of getting to know one another. It has been a long practiced tradition between the marriage between two kingdoms.” He states as if he had witnessed a marriage between two kingdoms in his own life as well.

The princess could not believe what she was hearing. As if her ears were deceiving her, or that is how she wants to believe it as. “Do you not think of briefing me through this before you even announce marriage or continue with your decision?”

The king gives her daughter a long look before sighing. “Does marriage still bother you?”

“Shall I make it more obvious, your majesty?”

“Well, it has been arranged, Taeha.” There was no room to argue as her father’s voice lowered. “The crowned prince shall arrive tomorrow morning and you’ll be riding with him back to his kingdom.” That was the last thing she heard before she left that godforsaken room. It was a near mockery of all the years of her voicing out her opinions on marriage, and making effort to not wed anytime soon.

A pure mockery.

The next day followed soon after, as if her life played out three times faster. As she was unable to sleep a wink last night, she grumbled to herself as soon as the sun began peeking through her now empty room. The room was huge even with her stuff inside, but now it felt oddly bigger than it was before, even with all this space, it was making her suffocate.

The last time she would be able to see her, well her family’s, lady-in-waiting would be today as they force her out of her bed and into clothing she has never seen in her life. The process was both grudgingly slow, but she hoped that they would go slower. That’s why the moment they all move away from her to give her space to examine how she looks at the mirror, she hoped that they had just stayed where they were.

Then she was guided to the stairs, the one where their guests were entering last night, she walked with two escorts on her side and a few more by the walls making sure that the rebellious princess did not try to make her great escape. Princess Taeha was a runaway bride in the making.

By the entrance of their castle, her parents were already waiting upon her arrival. It wasn’t until she turned the corner to see the full view of the entrance that she took notice of the prince gladly engaging in conversations with the king of Sui. It was as if his persona last night was a mere lie.

“Here she is, my princess, Taeha.” King Taemu opens his arms wide to welcome her all dolled up daughter.

Taeha takes her time. She doesn’t rush to stand beside her parents, let alone, his fiance. Once she stood beside her mother, she wrapped her arms around her waist.

“I heard that the kingdom of Hwei has already prepared their lady-in-waiting for you.” Aside from the absurdity of being engaged just a few days ago, she finds out that she’ll be going to a foreign land all on her own, without anyone she truly knows?

It took everything in Taeha for her head not to swing towards the queen in absolute anger. “I see,” she sighs, “however,” the moment she began her sentence with this she was met with glares coming from her parents, “I believe that it would be hard to accumulate in a foreign land without my own lady-in-waiting.” She reasons out.

“Wouldn’t that be better?” King Taemu turns his head towards the prince. “You’ll be relying on this young man even more.”

Guanheng remained silent, but continued to force a smile on his face. The sudden silence from her father’s words made everyone’s heads turn towards the horses that were neighing, as if they were the most impatient beings present right now.

“That appears to be the sign for us to send our farewell.” Guanheng bows towards the royal couple of Sui, before walking up a few steps and offering out his hands to the princess.

Taeha before she could even accept his hand was taken into a hug by the queen, one that felt like it was the last time they’ll ever be able to touch one another. A much larger hand on the back was placed right above the queen’s, and as soon as she looked up, she saw her father with a soft smile on his face.

She was the one who decided to break the hug. Taking a deep breath, she grabs hold unto Guanheng’s hand. “I’ll be taking my leave.” That was the last thing she told her parents before walking down the stairs.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

previous | masterlist | next

#hendery #huang guanheng #wong kunhang #renjun #hendery fanfic #wayv #wayv fanfic #nct fanfic #nct 2020 #nct 2021 #nct wayv #hendery prince #prince hendery #hendery angst

3 notes · View notes

glitxhwayventeen · 2 years

Text

The Lucky One

Hendery

Characters: Hendery x female reader

Warnings: twisted sense of humor about disabilities, love triangle, depression mentions, disability struggles, mentions of partying, mentions of drinking/drugging, dark jokes, fight scene sort of, blood mentions, death mentions, broken bones, anxiety/panic attack scenes, family issues, i think that’s it but let me know if I missed anything!

Author’s Note: Sorry it’s soooooo late! But i made it long enough to sort of close out their story so I hope that made up for it! Let me know what you guys think!

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Watch It All Burn Masterlist

The Lucky One: Part 1

Mostly 🥀

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts Pink= Cantonese Blue=Native Language Green=English Red=Korean (Since all the characters would normally use Mandarin as their preferred language being from China and all, anything in plain bold will be considered normal Mandarin)

Tag list-

The conversation you had to have with Yangyang was definitely not one you were looking forward to.

It wasn’t that you were necessarily scared of how he’d react, you were sure even if he’d get mad at your decision to not reject Hendery that he’d still never willingly hurt you. You were still his mate after all and he’d love you no matter what.

You just weren’t looking forward to the hurt you’d undoubtedly put him through when you told him.

You couldn’t bear to see him upset and the thought of making him cry alone made you want to fling yourself into a burning fire. Though what else could you do?

Between the choices of hurting your one mate for a short time or rejecting the other and having him die, it should’ve been an obvious choice right? But if it was the correct choice, why did it feel so… wrong?

You were broken out of your thoughts by a quick yet soft knock at your door followed by your mate’s timid voice.

“___? Is-is it okay if i come in?” Yangyang all but winced from behind the barrier in a pitiful tone, making you want to jump from your bed, open the door, and throw yourself into his arms already to kiss all over his cute little face.

But you had to stop yourself. You had to hold your ground. Just because you missed him more than you had allowed yourself to fully feel up until that moment didn’t mean you could give into your stupid bleeding heart.

He could’ve killed someone with how angry he got the other day. And even though you completely understood why he’d be mad at both you and Kunhang, you couldn’t easily forgive him for putting the other’s in the pack, including your new sorta baby nephew, in danger so carelessly.

He needed to see the gravity of his actions one way or another. And unfortunately for the both of you, the only way for that to come to light would be through some tough love.

“Yes.” You replied back as monotonous as you could to show him you were less than pleased with him.

Yangyang had been allowed back in the house a few hours ago after Kun decided it was best for you two to speak. But that also meant your other mate had to make himself scarce for a little while so no more fights would ensue.

You heard the door slowly creak open. You turned your head up from your lying position just in time to see your pink headed mate shimmy his way through the opening before he closed it briskly.

Watching carefully as he cautiously came and sat at the foot of your bed, you noticed the slight yellowing along his jaw and the now browning markings under his right eye, two sure fire signs that his hyper wolf healing was working well. Yangyang may have taken Kunhang by surprise, but that didn’t mean the macanese boy ended laid there and took it.

Everyone in the pack always thought that the elder of the two was the fighter. And while you knew Hendery could definitely hold his own, you seemed to be the only one who understood that he didn’t actually like fighting. The long conversations you had had with him after the fact proved that to you that much more.

And even though he would gladly defend you to no end when it came to events involving you, Yangyang was the one most willing to enter into a scuffle to ‘protect’ you.

It was weird to see him so… anxious as even during your first meeting with him he was already initiating hand holding and sweet pecks on your cheeks.

You knew very well why Yangyang was worried, but that didn’t mean your heart didn’t throb as he began nervously playing with the sock on your good foot, refusing to look you in the eyes after everything that had happened.

At that moment, you wanted to scream at whoever thought it was a good idea to allow two werewolves to imprint on the same person and caused your body to be put through such a conflict.

On one hand, you wanted to maneuver your way over to him and place his sad head in your lap as you stroked his fluffy hair to clear his mind. You wanted to kiss his sweet face a million zillion times until you felt like you couldn’t breathe to show him how much you missed him.

But on the other you wanted to slap him for acting as though he had a right to be upset after he all but threw a very injured you to the floor to attack someone, the someone being his own packmate nonetheless.

“H-How are you?” He stuttered, still refusing to look up from your clothed toes.

You scoffed and folded your arms at his question instinctually. What kind of dumbass question was that?

“Is that supposed to be rhetorical or something?” You blandly questioned, sending a wave of horror down his spine.

He knew you’d be upset with him. And, while he knew you had every right to be after the way he behaved, that didn’t mean he still hadn’t hoped that you’d have missed him as much as he missed you the last few days enough to give him some sort of leeway.

Yangyang swallowed a thick lump in his throat before he answered you, “O-okay. I probably deserved that…” he admitted while scratching the back of his head, “I just- well, I wasn’t sure what else to say.”

“How about ‘I’m sorry for pushing you to the floor and bruising you up babe’ for starters?!” You hissed a bit meaner than you had originally meant to as you sassily rolled your eyes at him.

Okay, so maybe a part of you was actually a tiny bit upset he let his territorial instincts trump his protective instincts and hurt you, even if you had only just aggravated your old injuries from the fall. But in your defense, you could hardly pinpoint what you were feeling anymore.

Since Kunhang had come into the picture, you had a roller coaster of emotions jerking throughout your body every second of everyday. Your mind was constantly at war over what was best for your mates.

They were both just sooo unbelievably different. From what everyone, including the both of them, had said, they’d never been besties to begin with because their personalities would clash too much. They had practically been at each other’s throats since day one without their pull to you meddling in the way.

Now with you as an added irritant, how were you supposed to maintain peace and keep them from killing each other? How were you going to get through the rest of your life without aging terribly from the constant guilt and worry that would now be bagged upon you like you were some weak little kid at a summer camp?

Now everything was different. Before you could kiss Yangyang freely without a second thought. You never even cared if your brother was in the room because to you he had disowned you.

But now, you had to watch everything you said and did to be sure it wouldn’t add fuel to the already raging fire.

You had to think about whether or not even smiling at one would end up harming the other or whether saying the opposite’s name would anger the one you were around.

Would they ever get back to their weird brotherly love the pack had worked so hard over the years to build? Or had you completely destroyed them without ever having meant to?

Your head was constantly pounding and you felt like rhythmically crying all the time. And you just knew the feeling wasn’t something that would ever truly go away.

He sighed defeated, “I would never ever in a million years do anything to hurt you on purpose ___.”

“But you still did.” You rolled your eyes dramatically, shifting your foot away from his grasp defiantly.

It stung that you pulled away from his touch. But you being hurt over his previous actions stung more.

The pink haired boy bit his lower lip as he mustered up the courage to speak again, “I- I am sorry for that baby,” he tried with a small pout adorning his lips as he reached for your shaky hand and placed a small kiss to the back of your palm.

Though once he realized he wasn’t going to earn a response from you, he decided to speak more from the heart, “I didn’t mean to do that. You know letting any harm come to you is the last thing I’d ever want. But I- I realized what was happening as soon as I saw the look in his eyes and I- I just… saw red.”

“Yeah, saw red and put everyone in the house in danger Xiao Yang!” You quipped, the unexpected explosive reaction from you causing him to jolt back in shock.

But you were right nonetheless. He knew that. He just couldn’t help it in the heat of the moment.

“I-I know.”

When he saw the loving look in the elder boy’s eye looking in your direction, he wanted to rip him apart in a drunken raged fit.

But when he saw you staring back at the older boy with the same doe eyed sparkling expression, it felt like Yangyang’s heart had torn itself in two.

“Honestly Yangyang, what were you thinking?!” You nearly shouted to him in close range as you fully sat yourself up, albeit with his help.

It looked as if Hendery had stopped all matter of time around you. Like you had been lost before you laid your eyes on him. Like you wanted to jump into his arms and never let him go. Like you were his.

“I-I don’t know.” He meekly answered you, too ashamed to say anything else as you leaned against his body for support.

He freaked out because he was the one that was supposed to help you find your place. He was the one that was supposed to stop the universe from revolving around you.

You were supposed to want to jump into his hold and never want to leave. He was the only one you were supposed to look at like that. You were supposed to be his. But now, now he wasn’t sure anymore.

“You could’ve hurt someone! There’s a baby around now! Were you even thinking about that during your little attempted homicide?” You lectured him, resting your head on his burdened shoulders.

You knew why he was upset. You understood his frustration with the whole situation. And you knew you really needed to be angry with him to prove your point.

But god, did you enjoy being able to physically touch the love of your life again. You missed him so much in the few days he had been forced to stay away from you.

Sure you had Kunhang and he helped to fill your heartache, but Yangyang being away felt like your chest had been hollowed out and filled with cement. It just wasn’t the same as having him there with you too.

The irony was now that he was gone, you were feeling the same way about your other mate being absent.

He laid his head atop of yours and intertwined your hands, “I wasn’t thinking about anyone else. I’m sorry I put everyone in danger and lost control.”

Having him close to you again made you feel secure and safe. Though you knew he had worried everyone tremendously by acting out, you had never actually been scared he would hurt you. Because although he did all but push you to the ground to lunge viciously at Hendery, some part of you knew he only did it to protect you from being in the line of fire.

Besides, how could you ever be terrified of someone that had done nothing but protect and care for you since you had arrived in Korea?

Your emotions were swimming through you like a curdling soup that had gone bad. The water that had started brimming at your waterlines was only natural.

You were mad at him for being careless and at the universe for once again making your life more complicated. You were sad you had been away from Yangyang for so long and that you now had to be away from Kunhang to keep the peace.

Part of You was actually happy about having two new loving mates while the other part was absolutely dreading the uncertain future you may or may not have with them.

Crying in front of the Taiwanese wolf was never something you wanted to happen. It was an unsettling feeling for you. You knew it was traumatic for him after having had to deal with listening to it for so long when you were so close to death.

You’d usually find time to let your emotions out when you were left alone or when you had some sort of sound surrounding you enough to hide any noises you made. You didn’t want to force the scarring experience on him again if you didn’t have to.

So you did your best to stifle the sobs that wanted so badly to push their way out of your chest to not make him uncomfortable.

And after what felt like an eternity of tearful silence, you finally managed to say what you’d wanted to shout at him when he had charged so diligently at Guanheng, “We didn’t do this on purpose Xiao Yang.” You spoke softly, tightening your grip on his much stronger hand to show some sort of remorse for the actions you both knew you couldn’t help.

He nodded his head solemnly at your words, “I know you didn’t my love.” He whispered, quickly moving to kiss the top of your newly styled hair in understanding.

After a moment of hesitation, you asked him a question you weren’t really sure you were prepared enough for him to answer. But you knew you needed to ask it all the same, “Do you hate me?” You whimpered, biting your lip to stop a hiccup of sadness from escaping your mouth.

He shook his head almost as soon as the question was released into the air, “You know I could never hate you my ___. I love you.”

You pulled your head from its place on Yangyang’s shoulder and stared at him with bloodshot eyes, “You might hate me when I tell you this next part…” you mumbled just under your breath as you flicked your vision down and away from his beautiful face.

That’s when his whole world turned upside down. That’s when the earth felt like it had frozen over and switched into an icy abyss. That’s when his breathing almost stopped mid intake.

That’s when he knew: you had actually accepted Hendery as your mate.

——

The next meeting the boys had together was… remarkably similar to the first to say the least.

Guanghang and you had sat down on the living room couch watching as Dejun sat on the floor playing some new video game your mate had bought him to try and cheer him up and get his mind off his own traumatic love life.

You were sat with your legs drooped over his as he played with the curls laying on your back while you tried to figure out the gist of the game going on in front of you.

“So wait, why are you trying to save the princess from that angry looking goblin thing again?” You asked as your head innocently tilted to the side.

The third wheeling cantonese boy let out a groan of despair for the umpteenth time that hour as Hendery attempted to explain the premise of the game to you once more, “Because she needs rescued otherwise the troll king will kill her and feed her to all his subjects in the dark kingdom.”

Though your mate sounded perfectly rational in his tone while expressing the nature of the game, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around why it needed to happen.

“But why does whoever is playing the game have to be the one to rescue her?”

“Because she’s a princess and princesses are always helpless in these sorts of games.” He answered you as if he cracked some sort of code to video game logic.

But to you it was as if he was speaking a different language, “But that’s so stupid!” You interrupted loudly, causing Dejun to lose focus on his task and let his character die with a sharp exhale, “If she was a real princess she’d get off her own ass and realize men don’t just magically appear and swoop in to save the day!”

Your response had Kunhang chuckling, but only seemed to make Dejun roll his eyes at you in annoyance, “Yes because you’re soooooo capable of protecting yourself all by yourself with only one functioning arm and one functioning leg right?” He quizzed rhetorically with a snort.

But before you could react with some witty comeback towards the bitter boy’s accusation, your mate hit him upside the head with his slippered foot.

“Aiya! Shut up dickhead!”

“Did I say something to offend you or that wasn’t true though?” Dejun snipped back at the younger boy as he rubbed his head with a mischievous pout.

You understood that he meant it in good fun, and you weren’t one to easily get offended because making fun of yourself was something you did to ease your own pain about the situation, but that didn’t mean the boy whose lap you sat on thought it was amusing.

Hendery scoffed, “Gee I don't know. Tell me would you feel offended if I made fun of your mate being permanently disabled against her will?”

At first, you thought he was being playful with the oldest in the room, but once you saw his eyes start to morph to slivers of crimson and you felt a small vibration emitting from his chest, you knew he was taking it more to heart than he probably should’ve.

Which meant you needed to put a stop to his overprotectiveness before you found yourself once again between two wolves fighting to the death.

“Alright alright, relax. It’s sweet you care and all, but he’s sort of got a point,” You shrugged, placing your good hand against his heart to still him, “Without other people’s help, I can barely make it up off this couch without hurting myself more.” You cocked your brow at him.

Once he took a deep breath and mumbled some sorry excuse for an apology to the other Cantonese boy, you knew he was trying his best to heed your silent pleas. But you also knew stopping his instincts wasn’t nearly as easy for him as it was for you. So you did what you always did, you opted to break the tension with a joke.

“Besides, I don’t know what it was you planned to do to him, but there’s really no point in beating an already dying horse,” You chuckled, causing Guanhang to snort a squeaky laugh into your hair with a chaste kiss as Dejun turned around and stuck his tongue out at you and wiggled his hands next to his face.

You immediately returned his simple action, albeit with only one of your hands and gave him a shit eating grin back.

But just as you thought things were going back and you were having a rather pleasant afternoon, the good lord found it fit to punish you with the only thing that, while in other circumstances would make your heart jump with glee, made pure terror erupt within your stomach.

Yangyang.

You had been so busy trying to focus on the smaller problem of your older mate’s aggravation at hand, you neglected to listen to the sounds continuing throughout the rest of the house. Meaning you hadn’t heard the opening of the front door. If you had, things would’ve maybe turned out different.

You could’ve pushed yourself off Kunhang's lap. You could’ve spoken out against Yangyang’s visible rage at the small amount of intimate contact you and your other mate were having. You could’ve done something, anything, to stop the shit that was about to be thrown full force at the metaphoric fan. But you didn’t.

Because you weren’t expecting your first mate to come home so suddenly, he had agreed to Kun’s truce of letting both the boys spend every other day with you until they could stand to be within the same mile as the other. As it was your newer mate’s day, you didn’t think you had to worry.

But the second you felt the familiar butterflies fluttering about your abdomen signaling Yangyang was nearby, the second alarm bells started blaring throughout your head.

As you dropped your originally smirking face and turned to face the direction in which you knew the fuzzy feeling in your gut had come from, the hair on the back of Hendery’s neck shot up and he visibly went rigid. Just because he hadn’t taken a look over your shoulder didn’t mean he didn’t know what was going on.

When you looked to your original mate, you just knew it wasn’t going to end well.

His eyes were already blood red, his fangs had elongated, and he had a deep menacing growl radiating out of his chest.

“Get away from her. Now.” He seethed, allowing his nails to transform into sharp claws while he began walking over to the two of you.

Before you knew what was fully happening you were thrown down to Dejun, who quickly caught you, stood up from his place on the living room floor, and brought you behind himself so he could protect you. And when Yangyang saw that you were free from the confines of Hendery’s lap, he lunged forward.

You heard loud snarling and snapping sounds as the oldest of the Cantonese boys held you to his back for dear life, clearly worried for your safety. Because at the end of the day while the two of you constantly teased and poked fun at each other, you were still his sister and a mate in their small pack.

He couldn’t let anything happen to you if he could help it, even if that meant protecting you from your own rage filled mates when needed.

Once you heard cloth tearing sounds, you could only assume at least one of the two fighting had shifted. And then all you saw was a giant fur ball rolling from wall to wall like you were in some sort of giant pinball machine as Dejun tried to keep you out of the line of fire.

Which, of course, didn’t work for too long.

Try as he might, it was a fruitless battle. Their house, while big, wasn't nearly big enough to keep the two boys in their massive wolf forms from bumping into you both while they fought. Except bumping into you meant nearly crushing you under their full body weight as they were much much larger than your average sized house pet.

Dejun was quick to shift himself and to throw the younger boys away from you. He even let out his own menacing warning growl to signal for them to stop for your sake, but the damage was done.

Because you were behind him when the wolves collapsed on you and because of the way you landed, you took the very forceful complete weight of not only Dejun himself, but the two wolves as well. So this time when a snapping sound was distinguished between the grunting and huffing of the furious animals, it was also heard with a loud scream.

When you had fallen backwards to the hardwood floor, you had your bad leg bent in as it was no longer very structurally sound. The second the two wolves met Dejun’s front, your leg had taken an immense pressure that it wasn’t used to in such a weak state and the bone snapped.

Your cry seemed to alert all three boys as well as the second oldest, who had been fast asleep upstairs in his bedroom after a long day at school, that something was wrong. As every nerve in your body began to fire pain signals across your small frame causing your eyes to prick with tears, Ten as the most responsible one in the house raced down the stairs at light speed to see what the commotion was once he heard the sounds coming from the living area.

Your brother was met with two very worried looking wolves, an angry wolf, and a very injured you surrounded by a small pool of blood as you whimpered and whined from the floor. As much as he wanted to rip the heads off the boys who he figured were the cause of the harm done to you, he did nothing but rush to your side and place his shakey hands around your cheeks.

“What did you do?!” He roared with tears in his eyes as he looked up at the three boys, one shifting back into his human form in annoyance to mask his worry while the other two let out high pitched whines and stayed wolves.

Seeing as the two who really caused your injuries were too ashamed to shift back and admit what had happened, Dejun figured it was best he explain things before the eldest decided to rip everyone’s heads off.

Because even he felt horrible for what happened to you. You were his little sister and he couldn’t protect you from getting hurt. In Dejun’s mind, it was just as much his fault as it was the youngest two's faults. In his mind, he was just as responsible.

“We were sitting playing video games and ___ was on Guanhang’s lap. T-Then Yangyang came in and they both got heated and…” The Cantonese boy winced as he watched your brother cradle your battered body to his chest with water streaming down his cheeks, “___… she-she ended up getting caught in the crossfire.”

Like a strike of lightning, Ten’s eyes shot up immediately to shoot a death stare at your two quivering mates as Dejun knelt to your level and began to hold pressure on your newly lacerated leg, “You mean to tell me that my baby sister is bleeding on the floor because you fuckers couldn’t keep your fucking jealousy in check?!”

Ten fumed as he laid you flat on the ground and brought himself to his feet, quickly marching over to the terrified boys while Dejun hurried across the room to his cell phone to call Sicheng back home. And all you could do was lay there and cry in the form of small gasps. You figured you must’ve broken a few ribs too. Lovely.

The eldest of the three stooges rushed back to your side just as the Thai boy reached your mates and you started to hear full blooded screams in a language you couldn’t understand coming from his high pitched voice.

“How could you fuckers be so careless!” Chittaphon yelled at the two at the top of his lungs.

You wanted to help save your mates the fate of potentially getting beat to hell by your infuriated brother.

“Hyung s-she’s losing a lot of blood!” You vaguely made out Dejun’s frantic voice wail in Mandarin.

You really did want to help them both. To help them all get along really. That’s all you ever wanted.

“You assholes couldn’t keep your shit in check long enough to realize the gravity of your actions?!? You two complete fucking idiots couldn’t think with your heads instead of your dicks for even five seconds to notice she could be in danger???!?” Your brother’s voice cried out as he switched back to Mandarin and tears began pouring down his cheeks in rage once more.

“Ten-ge please stop! Something’s wron-” Dejun tried to plead.

But as the seconds passed your vision began to get more hazey.

“You motherfuckers could’ve killed her! She could’ve died! All because you both got too wrapped up in your petty shit!”

“I need your-” The only solid voice of reason once again attempted to refocus on the problem at hand.

Next thing you knew, everything started to go black.

“You two don’t like the situation?? Well guess the fuck what! You’re not the only ones!”

“Guys please she really has to get” Dejun’s voice was all but irrelevant to them.

Not that it mattered much to you. The pain had bled away and was now replaced with a hollow freeing feeling you couldn’t quite place.

“You think I like the idea that my sister’s stuck with your two absolute MORONS?!? You unbelievable GENIUSES! Is that your actually belief?!?”

“___’s losing a lot of-” Dejun did all he could to rally their attention to no avail.

You thought it would hurt more. From everything you’d heard. You thought you’d at least get more of a warning from your body. But you didn’t.

“You two don’t deserve my sister! And you never will!” Ten laughed.

“___?”

There was no warning. There was no feeling cold. There was no pain or suffering. It was much more sudden than you realized.

“She’s too good for the both of you! She’s too good for this fucking shitty world!”

“_-___…?”

In fact, it was quicker than falling asleep.

“She should’ve fucking denied you! BOTH of you! But she was too kind and caring to do it! And now look where we are!”

“___? Can you hear me?”

Dejun’s voice seemed like a distant memory now. Everything did.

“She’s my little sister! My BABY sister! And she’s bleeding on the floor because of two people who supposedly love her! She deserves so much more than THIS!”

“___!”

Because the deeper you fell asleep, the quieter and quieter their voices got no matter how loud you knew they had to have been.

“I stayed away from her to protect her! And now look at what you’ve done!”

“Guys! I- I can’t feel a pulse!”

Almost as if someone poured a gallon of ice water on them, the boys all seemed to snap back to reality. One where their words, whines, excuses, and guilt all faded away and all that was left was a lifeless version of you on the floor.

And eventually, you stopped hearing anything at all.

——

They tried to stay in your room with you. They wanted to be there when you woke up. If you woke up that was. But everyone in the pack was beyond pissed at them, your brother especially. Not that Hendery thought they were in the wrong for it at all.

In fact, it seemed the one thing both him and Yangyang could agree on was that they had fucked up and put you in danger once more.

So when they found themselves stuck at Seungcheol’s place for at least the night, they weren’t too shocked and they didn’t put up much of a fight about it. They both knew they were being punished for putting their jealousy ahead of your safety. And boy, did Seungcheol’s pack refuse to let them forget it.

“We know you guys didn’t mean to do it and we’re not members of your pack or anything,” Omi expressed, “But you guys really need to be more careful for her sake.”

Jeonghan spoke up with Jee solemnly placing her head against his shoulder as she sat on his lap, “Yeah. You all keep saying she’s got traits of being a wolf. But I feel like you guys keep forgetting that she’s not, in fact, a werewolf.”

“I’m not your alpha so it’s not my place to judge either of you,” Seungcheol continued his younger brother’s thought while also attempting to retain his boundaries with the foreign pack, “But you guys could have definitely handled that situation better.”

“Oh would you guys come on now and cut the shit!” Hendery watched as Jihoon sneered at his own pack.

Seungcheol let a tiny growl emit from his chest in warning, probably once again trying to keep his pack from acting outside of their realm with the two of them.

“What Cheol? You all can sit here and try to coddle them all you want. But I’m not doing that,” Jihoon rolled his eyes and turned his attention to speak directly at the two of them, “You guys fucked up. Plain and simple.” Jihoon crossed his arms and sat back smuggly on one of the pack’s arm chairs, “From what I hear, she’s even smaller than I am. You’re lucky you two didn’t crush and kill ___ immediately.”

Guanhang felt utterly helpless. He knew he’d know it in his heart if you ended up taking a turn for the worst. But that didn’t mean he liked the idea of being away from you while you were injured. Especially when he was the partial cause of said injury.

And as Kunhang heard the Taiwanese boy let out a small whimper from the mention of your name beside him and was reminded of the memories from earlier in the day, he knew he wasn’t alone in his feelings.

“Yeah she’s small alright. Like a tiny pixie.” Minghao added, seemingly trying to cut both The Macanese boy and his packmate a break. Not that either of them deserved in their eyes.

Junhui snorted, “Tiny pixie? Try an angry little elf. That girl may be unable to walk, but she scares the ever loving shit out of me. No offense guys.” He held his hands up in defense, expressing his intent to not cause any harm between himself and the two boys.

Hendery couldn’t help the slight smile that appeared on his lips at the older boy’s comment. Jun was one of the few in Seungcheol’s pack that had actually met you, and he hadn’t known you too long or met you more than a handful of times, but he already knew that you were a force to be reckoned with.

You may have been small but you let everyone know just how willing you were to kick their asses if they pissed you off, whether you were down an arm and a leg or not. He loved your fighter spirit.

Now all he could do was sit in the living room surrounded by the older alpha’s pack and pray he and your other mate hadn’t crushed that spirit.

“I don’t even have a mate. And I’m the first to admit I’m probably the most clumsy one here,” Mingyu butted in, “But even I know they’re supposed to come first and you’re not supposed to squish them.”

Before Guanheng could open his mouth to say something, Yangyang threw his face into his hands and started sobbing harshly, causing the older group around them to cease their insufferable scolding and take pause at the scene in front of them. It even snapped Hendery out of his own thought process.

He had never heard the youngest of his pack cry before. He was told he had when you were on the brink of death when you first came to Korea. But he figured that was just an exaggeration that naturally comes from hearing things from word of mouth.

Your other mate never thought your first mate felt any emotion other than happiness really. So seeing him so easily break down in front of a pack that wasn’t even his own put things into perspective.

Hendery knew the pup was protective of you, even more so than himself if that was possible. He never thought that he might take it harder than himself.

Everybody had frozen in place and held that position while listening to the maknae of the group cry quietly over you for what seemed like forever.

It wasn’t until Hendery broke out of his shocked trance and looked up at the other pack’s alpha, silently begging for everyone to give them the room so he could do the older brother thing that everybody understood he needed to do.

So everyone said their quick goodbyes and made their way up the house's stairs to go to bed. Once Kunhang heard the last of the doors close and the farthest trailing footsteps recede, he cautiously laid his palm on his younger brother’s back in solace.

The action only made the pup cry into his hands louder, this time making him jolt in hard shakes every time he took a breath in.

But Guanheng didn’t need him to say anything out loud. He already knew. They used to be brother’s in each other’s eyes before you came around after all. They used to speak to each other daily before they started hating each other’s guts, even if they weren’t best friends.

He knew he was already devastated that you had gotten hurt. Dejun had told him how glued to you during the whole ordeal of your arrival he was. And also told him how much of a toll not knowing if you’d live or die took on him.

He knew you getting hurt again, this time even by his own hand, would open up old trauma for him. So he just knew Mingyu’s comment crushed Yangyang the way they had crushed you.

But at the end of the day, there was nothing Hendery could say to make it better.

Because the truth was, even though both knew very well they deserved every bit of what everyone was saying, no one in the large pack could possibly make them feel any worse about the situation than the pull to your weakened body could.

——

“How is she?” You heard someone ask from behind your bedroom door in your groggy state.

“She’s lost a lot of blood. If I had been here even a few minutes later, I don't know if she would’ve made it.” A voice you soon remembered as Sicheng’s respond from the other side of the door.

“So she’s alive?” A high pitched voice you recognized as your brother quizzed.

“Yeah. I think she’ll be okay. She’s got a few broken ribs, a rebroken leg, and probably a pretty gnarly skull fracture/concussion, but she’ll live. She just needs lots of rest. And food. She needs calories to help her red blood cell production and jump start her accelerated healing.” Sicheng answered once again.

“So I can see her?”

“I… don’t know about that. You guys always fight and she’s in a real fragile state right now. It’s probably best if you let her sleep.” The in house doctor tried to finalize. But your brother was having none of it.

“I can’t have her wake up all alone. She hates being alone. I’m going to sit with her.”

“But-” The younger wolf tried to interject but was again brushed off.

“Look. I know I’m a crappy brother. And I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes when it comes to her. But I nearly lost her. She nearly bled to death right in front of me because I couldn't protect her properly. Before I could pin it on the others back in her home country not watching out for her. But this is on me. I need to own up to that. You have to give me this Sicheng. Please.”

After a moment of hesitation, you finally heard a sigh of agreement from your caretaker, “Alright just… just make sure she eats. And if I hear you two start fighting I’m pulling you back out of there. Got it?”

Your brother chuckled, “You're giving me orders now? I thought that was Kun-ge’s job.”

“Yeah well, it’s my job to keep all you bastards from croaking. So if you mess my patient up, I mess you up.”

“She’s my baby sister,” He named you affectionately as you semi-tried to grip the item in your good hand out of shock, “I’d never do anything to hurt her,” Ten assured the boy, “I love her.” You heard your brother say the three words you hadn’t heard come from his mouth since your mother was alive.

And if you hadn’t been so out of it and so exhausted from the breaking and rebreaking of your bones to stabilize you, you probably would’ve cried. But all you could do was listen to the door of your bedroom open and let the all too familiar scent of your brother’s signature art teacher classroom smell hit your nostrils before you drifted back off to dreamland.

——

You woke to the sound of a pencil scribbling down on a piece of notebook paper. The intense smell of drawing lead and paper could only mean one thing: Your brother was near.

Flickering your eyes open to instantly receive a splitting headache, you soon realized your hypothesis was correct when you jetted your vision to the side and saw that it was not either of your mates doodling their day away but a messy haired Chittaphon.

“Ch-Chitta?” You hoarsely whispered, causing your brother to immediately halt his actions and turn his attention towards you.

To your surprise, rather than him awkwardly getting up and leaving the room the second he noticed you had been in a conscious state like he had done when you first came to Korea, he dropped his art supplies to the floor and grabbed your bad arm softly with a happy smile on his face, “You’re awake! Good. I was starting to think you were never going to!”

While your chest leapt with glee that he was willing to be in the same room as you, your brain was a lot faster at thinking than your heart was, “W-What are you going here?”

“Me?” He let out a small chuckle in an attempt to desperately hide the hurt he felt at your question, an attempt that didn’t work, and continued, “I had to make sure you were okay. Someone had to stay with you after all.”

He figured you’d be a little more than hesitant when you first saw him sitting and waiting for you to awaken, but he hadn’t expected you to question him directly to his face about it.

“Yangyang or Kunhang didn’t want to?”

You watched as your brother visibly tensed at the mention of both your mates’s names, “They… had to stay somewhere else to cool down for a while. So it looks like you’re stuck with me kid,” He answered with a sad smile eventually placing itself on his face.

It took a lot for him to keep his eyes from flashing to their emotional blood red upon hearing the two’s names, but he knew that would just make the situation with you only that much more awkward.

“I’m sure if you ask the others they can take turns keeping me company if I need it.”

While speaking them into the air in the moment you didn’t see how your words could be taken the wrong way.

But you quickly understood that they could in fact have been taken offensively when the pathetic smile on your brother’s face dropped and was replaced with a deep frown.

“You- You would rather one of them be here instead of me? Even though they’re the reason you’re here again in the first place…?” Ten stuttered with his head down, doing his best to blink away the glossiness that had formed over his eyes.

“I… didn’t think that you’d… you’d want to be here.” You slowly and carefully stated, careful not to misplace your words again.

Your brother’s head tilted back up immediately, “Why wouldn’t I want to be here?”

What was it with men asking you these stupid questions? He was kidding, right?

“You haven’t spoken more than three words to me since I got here…” You could feel yourself shrink down as you spoke.

He studied your face for a moment, almost as if he was trying to get a read on if you were hiding any resentment or not. The anxiety of being under his raven-like eyes for a visual dissection made you grip your good hand and the contents in it tighter, something he easily took note of.

Instead of speaking or commenting on your factual statement, he stood up from his seat and reached over you, grabbing what you had been holding on to for dear life only seconds ago, and examined it curiously, much to your horror.

Only Yangyang knew what it was as it laid under your pillow every night before you went to sleep as he was the only other person ever in your shared bed. Even Kunhang didn’t know, you usually were in his room when it was his turn with you.

But you would bring the small item out and hold it during instances when you needed a little extra courage or were too scared to not have it on your person. Like when you got seriously injured or had a night terror and didn’t have anyone to comfort you.

In your brother’s hand was to date the only picture you had left of your immediate family. And it would be the only photo you’d ever get.

Cameras where you were from were scarce to come by, but somehow your mother managed to get her hands on one off the black market. She was always one for saving memories since none of you ever knew when the next day would be your last. So she made you, your father, and all your brothers like up for a photo she had one of your uncles take for you all.

It was a withered old black and white nothing piece of tattered paper to most people. But to you, it was the most important thing you owned.

As you silently watched while your brother looked it over, you noticed him run his finger over the center of the photo. You instantly knew what he was staring at from the placement.

It was you knelt in the snow, with a small, only slightly taller fairer skinned looking boy with one of his arms draped over your shoulder tightly. It only took nanoseconds for Ten to realize who it was: himself.

Your mother had managed to save enough money to bring him back to your country for the duration of fall from his dad in Thailand. Before she had died, the two of you had been inseparable. Him being back meant you were practically glued at the hip.

So of course your mother squeezed the two of you together in the photo, smiling big bright toothy grins as he held onto you and messed with your hair.

You saw a tear slide down your brother's face and that same Cheshire smile appeared on his lips, “I remember this day,” he giggled fondly, “You ate a bug.”

“I ATE a bug?!??” You exclaimed, shocked he’d make such an insinuation, “Try you FED me the bug. I was just too young to know what it was till mom came and freaked out!”

“You still ate a bug!” Ten snorted.

“Yeah well you’re still an asshole!” You mocked him, only being partially serious.

But once again, his expression changed to one of sorrow and you knew he knew part of you meant it.

“I-I know,” He added, handing you back the photo and sitting back down slowly, as if he had to recover from the most recent chain of events your relationship together had taken, “Why do you even have that?”

You shrugged gently, careful not to jostle your new/reopened injuries, “It’s all I have left.”

After that, your room fell into a deafening silence. It was times like this that you wished you had one of your mates with you. Whether it was Hendery sitting next to you speaking about anything that popped into his head or Yangyang cuddling you close to his chest to listen to his heartbeat while he played video games, neither ever seemed to let a moment of silence set when they were with you. That was simply because, as they had gotten to know you, both knew just how much you hated the quiet.

Because quiet to you meant there would soon be a storm of mortar fire and explosions to follow. It filled you with more anxiety than it would’ve the average person. But your brother wasn’t as close to you as he once was.

So he found himself very confused at the sudden erratic pick up in your heartbeat. Meaning when he saw how clammy your skin was getting and how shiny your eyes glistened, he thought he had opened your old wounds you called memories and looked down to his feet in shame, trying but failing to stifle a sniffle.

“Are… you like, okay…?”

“N-No,” Your brother answered shakily with earnesty, the first time you had ever actually heard him do so, “I- I messed up Yangqin.”

You gulped thickly. Chittaphon never used that name for you anymore. It was the name of a traditional chinese instrument your mother used to play when she was younger. It was your stupid chinese name you hated that your mother gave to you to match with your brother. ‘So you’d always look out for each other.’

He had called you by it when you were little to tease you since you hated it so much because it was such a ridiculous name for a human being. But he hadn’t done so since your mother died.

“I- I’m a really bad big brother,” He stated, fully letting his emotions take over and laying himself into your side, allowing your clothing to muffle his sorrows, “I didn’t mean to be. You have to believe me. I- I just- I didn’t know what else to do but stay away from you.”

“Why…?”

Your question came out very meek, but it was one you wished you knew the answer to all the same.

Ten looked up at you with his big, now watery eyes, “Because being around you and listening to you live your life- even looking at you- hurt too much ___.”

You twisted your brows together in confusion, signaling for him to elaborate further.

“She’s gone,” He winced out, the words nearly too painful to allow passage through his lips, “She’s gone and she’s never coming back.”

You had gotten so used to the hole she left in your life already. Never having your mom to do your hair for school, knowing you’d never have her there to support you on any birthday or on your future wedding day, always having to pack your own meals because you no longer had a parent in the house to do it for you.

Though you both knew the sentence your brother said to be true, verbalizing it seemed to make your heart ache still, even after all these years of dealing with/accepting her absence.

“You look just like her Yangqin. You act just like her, you even sound just like her.”

That was something that was also true. You had been told time and time again you looked like your mother’s little mini-me. It’s where Ten’s nickname for you came from.

When you were little, she’d even dress you the same to give people an idea of just how similar you looked. Your coloring was darker, and you were a bit shorter than she was, but you were still practically her clone.

“And I-I never blamed you for what happened to her. Not really. You were just a little kid.”

You were just a kid. But you also knew that you were practically a carbon copy of your mom, just with darker coloring because of your dad’s side. You could understand why it might be a bit uncomfortable to push past the likeness sometimes on his end. Even your own father had issues with it at times when he was alive.

Hell, YOU had issues with it. After decades of living without her and of still being told you looked just like her, you stopped looking in mirrors or at your own reflection anymore.

It hurt your family for you to look just like her, but it hurt you so much more to look so much like the person you’d wished could’ve been there every night when you were a child to sing you to sleep and kiss your bad dreams away. So you refused to give your brain an idea of what you looked like.

Both Yangyang and Guanheng had been trying to get you to push past refusing to look into shiny surfaces so you wouldn’t catch a glimpse of yourself, but you just weren’t there with it yet.

“I stayed away from you because… because I couldn’t handle being close to you with the possibility of losing you just like I did mom.”

That’s when all the invisible lines that surrounded you and your brother’s turbulent relationship connected in your head and lit up like a Christmas tree.

“I couldn’t handle feeling that much hurt again. I know it was wrong- I know that. But I started doing it to protect myself.”

He was afraid. Of course he was afraid of you dying and him being left heartbroken like last time. And. while you were afraid to live without your family too, you definitely had become somewhat numb to the sensation of loss from everyone around you dropping like flies so often. Ten didn’t have that problem, so he would be much more phased by it than you.

“I didn’t realize how much I hurt you-”

What he did wasn’t stupid, it was downright childish. You should’ve seen that. You didn’t realize he was just a kid when he lost your mother too. And what do kids do when they’re hurt? Hurt other people the way they hurt to make everything make sense.

“And I know I have no right to ask this-”

He was right, he didn’t have a right to ask you. He had no right to ask you anything. He made you miserable for years. He had you thinking the reason he had stayed away was because you were in the wrong for something you knew you couldn’t have possibly been able to control.

“But it there- is there anyway you could possibly ever forgive me?”

As angry as you wanted to be with him for all the years of pain and suffering he unknowingly caused you. As much as you wanted to take your one good hand and smack the ever loving shit out of him with it for treating you so poorly all these years. You just… couldn’t.

In fact, as the tears managed to spill their way down your cheeks, the only thing you could manage to do was reach your hand out to him. Not in a ‘I’m gonna hit you’ way. Not even in a ‘stop talking I don’t want to hear anymore’ way. No, you could only release your hand from your body’s side to offer comfort to your brother by rubbing his back.

——

After what happened, you thought it best to keep your distance from both your mates. It killed you. Every morning you woke up alone and sad and in pain. But you weren’t sure what else to do.

You loved them both equally, regardless of what they thought. You wanted them around you all the time 24/7 and when they weren’t you weren’t just unbelievably depressed, you also didn’t heal properly, sleep properly, or eat properly.

But they attacked each other every time they were near each other or if you came in contact with the other. They were hormonal young guys who could turn themselves into giant animals at will and there was a new baby living in the house now.

You had to think of the pack as a whole, not just what you wanted. And fact of the matter was that the whole pack would be put in danger if you tried to force the boys to get along or kept trying with the insane schedule you had hoped would work that hadn’t. So you did the next best thing: you left.

Though because you knew your brother and your two mates would actually have heart attacks if you tried to leave the city or country, all you could do was leave the house and limit your contact with both boys as much as you could.

And since you felt your pack had been asking too much of Seungcheol’s (especially since they didn’t even know all of you), you had been staying with Taeyong’s pack. The leader had been your brother’s old roommate before he found Kun’s pack, so he trusted him and his to look after you and keep you safe while you sorted out… whatever it was that you needed to sort out.

They lived close enough to where your pack could visit you pretty conveniently but far enough on the other end of the city that it would keep your mates from being able to get to you easily without anyone noticing their absence.

It had been almost two whole weeks since you ‘moved out’ and both of your mates were beginning to feel the effects. Just as you weren’t, they weren’t eating or sleeping. Just like you, they weren’t able to push themselves out of bed without someone dragging them out of it.

They hadn’t been in your presence or held you since the day they each had to come over separately and say their goodbyes. You barely messaged either of them anymore. Or asked any of the others who went to see you how they were doing. To them, it was like you had completely forgotten both of them.

They had both begun to show visible signs of your leaving: the hollowed out sunken eyes, the greasy untamed hair, the malnourished skeleton look they were already close to having before you even left.

And now the two wolves found themselves understanding that their bodies couldn’t take much more of being away from you. So they turned to the one person they thought might be able to change your mind on distancing yourself: your brother.

“So let me get this straight,” Ten dryly chuckled as he pulled himself out a glass of soju from the refrigerator, “You two supreme morons want me to help you get my sister to speak with you again because you’re both worried you’re starting to deteriorate?”

“Um…” Hendery let out in a questionable tone while he fumbled with his now nimble fingers.

Yangyang in turn scratched the back of his head to mask his same embarrassment, “Yeah… pretty much.”

Your older brother couldn’t help but snort and their request, “You two dickweeds nearly killed her. What makes you think I care if either of you die from rejection at this point?” He hissed out in spite, easily letting the image of you bleeding out on their living room floor run through his mind.

Ten had a point. Guanghang knew if the roles were reversed and the elder had harmed his own sister, he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about whether he lived or died. So why was it fair the two of them were asking the same of the Thai boy?

“Because she could die too,” Your other mate pointed out, earning a low whimper from Kunhang at the thought of you possibly being in pain because of them once more, “And if there’s anything all of us can agree on, I think it’s that we want her to live.”

Your brother gave them a glare Hendery felt in his spine. He stared them down for what felt like an eternity before he finally let out a deep sigh, “Fine. But for the record, if her life wasn’t possibly in danger, I wouldn’t do shit for either of you.” He growled showing his annoyance with his newly elongated fangs.

——

You had finally gotten settled into the spare room at Taeyong’s. It had taken you a while to get over your initial homesickness and uneasy feelings you felt about leaving your mates, but for the most part you were doing fine now.

You had even begun giving Johnny, one of the oldest of Taeyong’s pack, lessons about how to properly braid and tame curly hair. He had apparently imprinted on a foreign exchange student from Kenya and had been trying to learn more about her culture since they met.

And since you could physically see just how tired Taeyong was from trying to handle his rather large and still growing pack, you figured the least you could do for his hospitality and generosity was to teach his brother how he could better understand his mate. He was one of the few you could understand and communicate with, with him being American and you being able to speak English and all.

Since you had a little over two decades of experience with skillfully weaving your locks together, you were a perfect teacher to be explaining how different hair textures work to the boy after all. You weren’t his mate’s ethnicity and you were sure you’d have different hair than her, but you figured some knowledge was better than nothing.

The lessons even helped you keep your ever racing mind off just how much you craved interacting with your mates. The boys in Taeyong’s pack reminded you a lot of Yangyang and Hendery when it came to their energy and wacky ideas, Johnny himself was no exception.

Him and the younger boys in the house always kept you on your toes, figuratively of course as you were partially still healing. There was never a dull moment with them around. Especially when they invited Jeno’s small baby pack over for their weekly dinner.

All was going well as the tall boy messily tried to part your hair with your rat tail comb until you heard the phone that was so thoughtfully bought for you by Yangyang whenever you first got to Korea ding.

He wanted to be able to speak with you whenever he possibly could anytime he possibly could. And since phones were scarce where you came from and never seemed to work even when you could manage to get your hands on one, he took it upon himself to get you the latest and shiniest i-dohickey thingy he could.

Normally you’d say it was overboard, but for Yangyang, that was just a small show of his affection for you. He spoiled you to no end from the minute you woke up from your drug induced sleep all those weeks ago, whether you knew it was him or not.

He was always there to protect you. You missed him greatly, and the phone buzz was just another quick reminder of that.

The hypersonic sound also seemed to flood your mind with a gush of racing thoughts.

What if it was Yangyang telling you he needed you around again to tutor him so he wouldn’t fail his classes? What if it was Hendery calling you again to tell you he needed you to come home because he couldn’t take the pack’s teasing about his past anymore? What if it was Kun calling to tell you your mates had finally finished each other off? What if something happened to either of them?

But there was no way that could happen… right? You’d surely know if you’d lost one or both of them… right?

But what if you wouldn’t because you weren't a wolf? Sure normal wolves would know in an instant if something was wrong with their mate, but would you? You weren’t really a wolf, you just had some choice features they had. But you didn’t/couldn’t do even half of what they do.

So what if the whole knowing when your mate died thing was just another thing you had no power with? What if they were both gone and you had just been sitting in a new home with new wolves because you were scared? What if you staying away only caused more problems? What if-

“Oh go on and just get it,” Johnny sighed, “We both know it’s gonna take me forever to figure out how to flip this piece under that piece without losing hair anyways,” he ran his fingers through your tangled hair once more, signaling the clearing of his old work so he could start fresh on the style again.

You must’ve been staring at your phone without even noticing. Then again, when it came to anything remotely having to do with your mates, it seemed like it was the end of the world. It was a struggle Johnny now knew all too well and completely understood where your worry was coming from now that he had his own mate to worry about.

“Thanks,” You gave him a small smile and grabbed your phone, answering it so quickly in worry that you hadn’t even thought to check the caller ID to see who it was.

Rather than hearing the solemn voice of your pack’s alpha like you had feared, you were met with a higher pitched male’s voice, “Yangqin?” Your brother spoke softly on the other line.

You had fully prepared to hear bad news when you put the phone to your ear. You had mentally already started kicking yourself for leaving the both of them causing them to do something reckless or stupid. You hadn’t been expecting your brother to be the one wanting to speak to you.

“Yongqin? Why are you calling?”” You quizzed him in a hurry, “Is everything alright? D-did… did something happen?” you practically shrieked through the little rectangular device.

Just as horrifying flashes of blood, coffins, and death ran through your mind, your brother helped to ease your suffering, “No ___, nothing happened don’t worry. I just called to tell you it’s time for you to come home.”

You couldn’t believe it. You went from praying your mates were still alive to being told you needed to go home? Did he not remember why you left in the first place? Did he want everyone in the house to get hurt?

“Chitta, you know I can’t do that,” You sighed, placing your phone between your shoulder and your ear so you could readjust Johnny’s positioning with your one good hand.

“I know we agreed it would be for the best, but they’re struggling ___.”

While you wanted to be able to say to hell with it all and race back home so you could give each of your mates makeup kisses, you couldn’t. They were out of control. You couldn’t put yourself first like that when other people’s lives could literally hang in the balance.

You blinked away the tears that had formed in your eyes the second he mentioned your mates not being okay and spoke again, “They’re just… they’re just gonna have to get over it Ten. It hurts me too but they can’t seem to find a way to get along so- it is what it is.”

Letting it all come crumbling down and letting the pieces fall wherever they fell was something you were trying to hold off on with all your might. You had to stay strong and firm, no matter how much it hurt.

“But that’s what I’m talking about ___. They’re not the only ones hurting. We both know I couldn’t give a damn about them at this point, but you’re my baby sister. And from what Taeyong and his pack say, you’re not looking or doing any better than dumb and dumber over here. I’m worried you’re going to go through rejection.”

You snorted into the phone out of habit, a small tear falling down the side of your cheek that you were sure the American boy next to you must’ve seen. But he said nothing as you wiped the newly formed stream away and kept continuing to mess with your hair as if nothing had happened.

Of course you were going through rejection. You couldn’t do the cool shit werewolves could do, but you could die if you stayed away from your mates for too long. You really had the worst luck in the world.

As your brother listened on the other end of the phone for any sign of you actually responding, he decided to say what he knew would definitely get you to give up your stance and come back home.

It was to save your life after all, and he’d do anything to keep you breathing. Even if it meant pretending to care if your mates were hurt or telling you a few small white lies.

“I don’t think- I don’t think they have very long here ___. They look really bad. Yangyang hasn’t left his room in days- or gotten up out of bed actually-” He only half fibbed, trying his best to retain some of his composure and to not laugh immediately as the words left his mouth.

Your heart sunk to your stomach. You knew it would take a toll on them, but you were hoping the minimal contact that you allowed them would be enough to keep them going. You never wanted Yangyang to be so depressed that he wouldn’t even sit up in bed.

“And Hendery he’s- well, let’s just say if you thought he was in danger before with his lifestyle, just imagine how much worse it’s gotten since you left.” Okay, that one was a total lie.

He was actually just doing exactly what Yangyang was doing, but he figured that one might push your imagination over the edge just enough to make you relent and come home.

That’s when your body went tense. You didn’t even want to know what your brother meant. Kunhang was prone to partying, drinking, drugging, fighting, and sleeping around. You didn’t even want to think about how bad he had gotten with you gone or what he could’ve been doing. It made you want to throw up.

“Come bring me home. Now.”

——

Even though the now mostly fully healed boys were sat across from one another (it took them longer to heal from their previous injuries with you away), they both refused to even look at the other. Whether it was out of anger or awkwardness, Hendery wasn’t sure. He just knew he wanted it to end.

He could tell your anxiety was going through the roof. Your heartbeat was rapid, your breathing was labored, your good hand was fiddling with anything it could get its hands on to try and distract yourself from the pain lingering in the room. It was obvious.

The fact that he was sure both his and Yangyang’s eyes were flickering from gold to red to gold every other minute must’ve been a sign to you that they could lose their grip on their composure any minute. Hell, for all Kunhang knew, the younger boy could’ve been planning on attacking the second he registered that he took a blink.

He figured you knew that getting them in the same room without killing each other wasn’t gonna be an easy task considering what had already happened. But fuck, he could tell you were at least expecting them to be making snarky remarks towards each other. Instead, the two let the room fall into a deafening silence.

They both knew you were already a shooting bundle of nerves, so when you let out a tiny bit of your famous sarcasm, neither was too shocked.

“Can one of you like, say something or something?” You practically growled as you ran your good fingers through your newly washed hair in frustration uncomfortably.

Your wounds still hadn’t fully healed from the last time the three of you had been in a room altogether. And every small wince of pained face you made was just another reminder to Hendery just how badly he fucked up by letting you get in harms way.

Yangyang stared at you blankly, with no emotion whatsoever traced on his face, something that scared the older boy to no end, “What would you like me to say?”

You turned your attention towards the younger of the two mates, “I don’t know! Just say… something! The silence is literally killing me!” You howled with your chest pushing in and out harshly, signaling to both boys that you were close to collapsing from panic.

But once again, they met your words with echoing quietness. They just stared at you as you began to hyperventilate.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to help you or make you feel better, you were their mate for heaven's sakes. Of course they wanted to do something to ease your suffering. Things just… weren’t that simple anymore.

Guanhang remembered back to the conversation he and the pup had had at Seungcheol’s, once he calmed down, when you were once again fighting for your life, this time because of them and their fighting.

It was a conversation where they both swore not to put you in harm's way at all cost. Where they swore they’d try to keep their instincts at bay as much as possible for your sake and get along.

Your new mate figured the only way he could keep that promise was to stay away from you during the interaction so he wouldn’t set the youngest in the room off since he was the most unstable, an idea that was clearly also being followed by your other mate as well as he hadn’t moved a fucking inch since he sat down.

Of course Kunhang wanted to go over and pull you into a loving hug. And of course he figured Yangyang wanted to push your curls behind your ears and kiss your forehead in comfort. But they were too nervous to do that. One wrong move could set the other off.

So as much as Hendery wanted to grab you by the hand and play with your fingers, he had to contain himself for fear that your first mate would try and lunge at him again. As much as he knew Yangyang wished he could lay your head onto his lap and twirl your hair till you fell asleep, he also knew he had to contain himself in case Guanghang got too territorial.

They had both almost reminded themselves telepathically again that they had to agree to not speak to avoid any sort of conflict that could upset you. The only thing they did was let their minds wander, and when their minds wandered, that’s when their eyes started to shift back and forth.

Which Hendery figured was normal in situations like this, though he wasn’t sure as he didn’t know anyone else who had a double imprinted mate. (Hint hint wink wink) But that’s just how wolves were. Well, mostly anyways.

Normal wolves could hardly keep their emotions in check, but them being newer wolves meant that they didn’t always have their self control in check the same way more experienced wolves did. In fact, it was practically nonexistent.

The only reason the boys were even trying to stop themselves from attacking each other was because you, being the weakest one in the room, meant you’d be the one in the most danger.

And as much as they internally still despised each other for taking their mate away, neither of them could let anything happen to you willingly if they had a chance to stop it.

When they were both alone with just each other or just around the other guys, they weren’t nearly as bad and didn’t have to watch themselves hardly at all. But the second you came into the picture, their instincts lit up light wildfire. Neither could help it.

But as your breathing got more jagged as you thought on about the deafening silence and your eyes began to gloss over in a haze of confusion and fear, their promise to each other went out the window.

They heard your heart beating faster than the wings of a hummingbird start to go even quicker. They saw your body shake in tremors and watched as your eyes began to roll into the back of your head.

All their hate for each other went out the window when your body began to go limp and shaky. Suddenly Yangyang was at your side, holding your good forearm with his palm and trying to talk you word for word through your panic attack, much to Kunhang’s shock.

And, while it might’ve been what he needed when he was going through one himself, it very evidently wasn’t what you needed as he only seemed to make you worse.

Your breathing was getting more labored and your heart was getting more frazzled. Once Yangyang realized he was the cause of your new issues he quickly retracted himself from your personal space and stared at you with enough worry and heartache to last a lifetime.

To you, everything felt like too much and not enough all at once. Everything around you felt like it was vibrating and suffocating. The lights burned but the dark consumed. To you, you were sure you were going to die.

It wasn’t until Kunhang ever so cautiously interlaced his fingers with yours that your erratic state began to calm. You looked down just as he rested his forehead against yours and began to draw circles on the back of your hand with his thumbs. Lovingly, he lulled you with small hushes and had you close your eyes while breathing in and out evenly and paced.

——

After what seemed like an eternity of breathing and relaxing, you slowly began to feel like your old self enough for your mate to let go of your hands, but not before he placed a chaste kiss on your nose causing you to lazily smile.

“Okay.” Yangyang spoke, breaking through the silence that had formed during your little episode, much to both yours and Guanheng’s confusion.

“O-okay…?” You repeated, quickly realizing how close you were to your other mate and pulling away so you wouldn’t cause the two to fight again.

The Taiwanese boy repeated his statement with folded arms, “Okay.”

Both you and your older mate couldn’t help but stare at the youngest of your little trio, wondering what in the actual fuck he could’ve been talking about.

But before you could answer, Hendery beat you to the punch, “What do you mean by okay?”

“I mean,” Yangyang stood up from his spot sitting across from you and pushed himself to sit beside you, “Okay. I’m not gonna try to fight it anymore.”

You followed his mouth in your line of sight through the whole sentence, but you still didn’t understand him. Or rather his reasoning behind why he suddenly agreed to your current situation.

“You mean you’re gonna try n-not to fight… Kunhang anymore?” You said quietly, almost unsure of the words you were speaking aloud.

“Yeah.”

While the boys getting along was everything you ever wanted from either of them, you didn’t understand why his mood on the matter changed. He had been fighting him tooth and nail about you. He didn’t want you to accept him and had quite literally said before that he’d rather you deny both of them than accept both of them.

“What changed your mind?” Kunhang asked while you were deep in thought.

He didn’t understand either. He didn’t necessarily trust it either. Instincts were instincts and, while he was much better with it than the pup was, he even still struggled to control his anger towards Yangyang for also being your mate. He didn’t get why he had suddenly decided to do a 180 and change his way of thinking so suddenly.

Yangyang sighed and pulled you scarred hand into his, this time being meant with a more compassionate and loving response as he brought his free palm to cup your cheek, “I just realized that-,” He swallowed deeply, almost dreading saying the words he was going to have to say, and looked into your eyes with a straight lip, “I’m your house, but he’s your bed.”

“Come again?” You couldn’t help but tilt your head at his strange sentence.

“You need him as much as I need you. And we need you the way you need the both of us.” You watched your younger mate bite his lip as he tried his hardest not to cry, “I’m like her house. She runs to me when she’s scared or worried like people do to their houses during thunderstorms.. Because she knows I’ll protect her from everything I can but you-” He spoke softly and darted his eyes towards Guanheng. “You’re her bed. You comfort her when she’s sad or upset, the same way people are comforted by their bed when they’ve had a bad day and just want to nap. You help her in a way I just can’t as her house. And I help her in a way that you just can’t as her bed.”

By the end of his explanation, all three of you were in tears and saddened by the harsh reality of things in Yangyang’s perspective. And while you refused to believe his narrative, Hendery somehow got exactly what the pup meant.

They both brought something to the table that the other didn’t. It was nobody’s fault. It just was what it was.

And now that the both of them had accepted it, they had to get you to as well.

“I-I don’t just love you because you protect me!” You insisted, sniffling at the end of your sentence like a child.

You couldn’t let your younger mate think that that was the only reason you were with him. That was ridiculous. You loved him exactly the way he was with everything you had.

“Baby,” Kunhang watched as Yangyang pulled you onto his lap, ever so careful not to nudge you in a way that would jostle your wounds, “I know that. But I also know, you love us and need us both for different reasons. And that’s okay. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He shushed you as best as he could while muffling your cries, knowing that his heart would always be fractured knowing that he couldn’t cosmically give you everything you needed all by himself. And Hendery also wondered if he would always feel the exact same way as his counterpart.

(Edited 8/13/2023)

#wayv hendery #wayv yangyang #wayv #wayv imagines #wayv icons #wayv layouts #wayv angst #nct hendery #hendery #wong kunhang #wayv liu yangyang #liu yangyang #yangyang angst #nct wayv #nct yangyang #huang guanheng #huang kunhang #werewolves

4 notes · View notes

haechanhues · 1 year

Text

pairing : ot22 x reader. sm rookies! shohei/eunseok/seunghan x reader. sungtaro x reader.

genre : fluff + angst + suggestive content throughout.

warnings : suggestive content from a certain point. implications of bullying, swearing. toxic relationships. further warnings at every preview, written chapter etc please tell me if there are warnings I may have missed. everything in this fic is fictional. STORY COMPLETED BEFORE TAEIL’S REMOVAL SO HE MIGHT BE MENTIONED IN A COUPLE CHAPTERS ESP JOHNNY’S

summary : in which a girl farewells every boy she’s ever loved (or at least had romantic feelings for) in order to prove that her feelings for one particular boy are very real and unwavering.

status : completed

taglist : @matchahyuck @haisuken @dinonuguaegi @replayenthusiast @90s-belladonna @scftharu @ahnneyong @liliansun

main masterlist

author’s note : now pls bear with me, this is kind of a concept that rattles me a little bit so pay attention to the previews which are listed as ‘phones’. timestamps aren’t necessarily important unless stated. i’ve had this idea in my head for 3+ years now and i've written about 13 chapters and i just cannot hold on any longer so here it is.

EDITED : I will be deleting taeil’s chapter and because he is mentioned in another chapter or two he will be a warning.

profile 1 | profile 2 | profile 3 | profile 4 | moodboard

prologue :

P H O N E (1)

chapter one : hong seunghan

chapter two : osaki shotaro

chapter three : REMOVED

chapter four : matsushima shohei

chapter five : jung jaehyun

P H O N E (2)

chapter six : chittaphon leechaiyapornkul

chapter seven : park jisung

chapter eight : lee jeno

chapter nine : lee taeyong

chapter ten : jung sungchan

P H O N E (3)

chapter eleven : yuta nakamato

P H O N E (6)

chapter twelve : wong kunhang

chapter thirteen : kim doyoung

P H O N E (7)

chapter fourteen : song eunseok

chapter fifteen : na jaemin

chapter sixteen : lee donghyuck

chapter seventeen : mark lee

chapter eighteen : zhong chenle

chapter nineteen : liu yangyang

chapter twenty : johnny suh

chapter twenty one : dong sicheng

P H O N E (8)

chapter twenty two : qian kun

chapter twenty three : xiao dejun

chapter twenty four : kim jungwoo

chapter twenty five : huang renjun

P H O N E (9)

epilogue : you, again

author's confessions + thank you wrap up

#kflixnet #k-labels #nct fic #nct social au #nct #nct dream fic #wayv fic #nct 127 fic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct smau #nct fluff #nct angst #nct suggestive #riize fic #sm rookies shohei fic

316 notes · View notes

8myass · 8 months

Text

.. smiles .. pairing. wong kunhang/hendery x female reader, feat. xiaojun genre. angst, smut pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) synopsis. he fell for the way you smiled for him. wc. 1.3k cw. yandere!hendery, idol!hendery, talk show host!reader tw. cursing, stalking, drugging, pet names (‘my love’, ‘sugar’, ‘darling’), dubcon aspects, infidelity, fingering, slight gaslighting a/n. came up with this idea after watching the episode of unbelievable that hendery and xiaojun were on together.

You talked like you owned the entire room, hands moving in gestures to truly enunciate the sentences you sang out, soft bangs falling over your forehead while you fidgeted in your seat. You were perfect for a talk show host. You had that very distinct presence about you that would make anyone interested in the topic at hand. Something so simple as brushing your teeth could become a conversation starter deserving of an hour’s worth of words.

You were so sweet, too. You’d make the guests on your show seem like their opinions were the most important things in the world. You sure made Hendery feel that way. He was an idol of a few years now, but coming onto this show was the first thing he’s done where he needed to share his thoughts with someone other than his bandmates, one of whom also joined him on the show. Luckily for him, his bandmate, Xiaojun, would cover for him whenever he went silent, thinking that he simply had nothing to discuss on the subject. No, he had plenty of opinions he could share with the hosts. But you were too mind-boggling that he continuously managed to find himself distracted by the way you flipped your hair over your shoulder when it tickled the exposed skin of your arm, adjusted the way your cropped top rested above your belly button to leave just the right amount to the imagination as it matched nicely with your tiny skirt that cut off before it could trail too high up your pretty thighs, hands fiddling with the dry flesh around your cuticles out of semi-nervousness when the attention was all on you.

He found that he adored your smile, the way your entire face would light up when you laughed, pearly white teeth exposing, gums popping out, eyes forming crescent shapes as your cheeks perked up. You were gorgeous when you smiled.

He wanted to make you smile more, laugh more, so he made it a point to speak up more, saying the silliest and most unserious things to get your face to contort in that beautiful way over and over again. He liked it, loved it, when he was able to make you smile, all for him.

And the moment your hand pressed against his knee, warm palm only lingering on the clothed skin for a few seconds, but it left a lasting sensation. The moment you did that, he had completely lost himself into you. He was prepared to dive all in.

As you left to head home that night, you’d see him in the lobby, brushing off his jacket before throwing it over his shoulders, hair sloppily falling over his face.

“Hey,” you called, hurrying your feet over toward him. As soon as his wide eyes met yours, you smiled at him sweetly, “Hendery, right? How’s it going? I thought you and Xiaojun had left already.”

“Yeah, we did, but I forgot my coat,” he rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortably laughing, “I’ll be going now.”

“Got a ride? I can take you if you want,” you shrugged, knowing he had no ride. That was one of the topics you discussed with him today.

After accepting the offer, he was actually sitting in your car. You stopped for gas on the way there, allowing him the chance to search through your belongings. It was definitely not the most honest thing for him to do, and stealing an empty bottle or a used tampon applicator was an even more dishonest thing, but he couldn’t contain himself. The scent of you was all over the items littering your car, he wanted to take it all. He wanted to take you. But he refrained long enough to get to his dorms.

He couldn’t invite you in, not into the place he was living at. If he brought you inside, the boys would poke fun at him, suggest and speak things that are crude and disgusting, so he didn’t get to bring you inside, sending you on your way as soon as he got out of the car, waving you off. He wanted to cry, slam his head against the wall. How could he not bring you inside? What was he thinking? He could’ve snuck you in, if there’s a way, he could do it. But no, this was the right decision.

Especially considering it wasn’t the last time he’d see you. The next times, however, you might not see him. He found out where you were living – staying at your sister’s for the time being, only until you got back on track with your money, you were waiting for your career to take off. He could take care of you, you should really just let him. But as he watched your beautiful figure dance naked around your room in a hurry to get a pair of comfortable pajamas on, his delusional mind began to process something. You wouldn’t love him in all the ways he loved you. You probably didn’t even remember who he was.

Sure, he was an idol. But you weren’t into those kinds of things. Your head was either buried in a book or writing the scripts and questions for your show. You weren’t listening to his music or watching his videos or listening to his voice, you weren’t concerned with who he was in any sense, no context of him was fascinating to you.

He wanted you to remember him, remember who he was after the next meeting you had.

“Missed me, my love?” he smiled, hands snaking around your waist. Your body tensed, but soon relaxed when you felt his lips gently kissing along the soft skin of your neck. “Because I know I missed you so fucking much.”

You weren’t yourself, unable to properly feel who you were becoming, what he was doing to you. You didn’t know who it was, had no idea it was Hendery. You didn’t even remember him, he was completely right. When you showed up at your work building that morning, a syringe was injected in your neck before you could enter the front doors, being dragged away to a fancy hotel where now you’re gazing out across the city from a balcony, a random man wrapped up behind you, slowly falling against his touch, too touch-starved to say no to the desperate need to let your body give in. Not to mention the fact you thought it was your loving boyfriend, the man who you so badly wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He vowed to keep sex off-limits until marriage, and when he proposed, you were ecstatic that you were getting closer to that marriage dream of yours.

Still feeling the effects of the burning fluid seeping through your veins, you slurred, “Waiting for marriage?”

“Forget that,” he groaned into your ear, nibbling on your lobe as his hands trailed along your perfect body, deciding to play into your little delusions.

“You sure?” you gasped, feeling a harsh hand slip down your pants, touching you delicately with every hint of love in the way his fingers moved inside you.

“You’re gonna remember me after tonight, darling,” he spun you around, butt pressing against the edge of the railing, eyes meeting yours. He saw the moment you noticed who it was, the moment you realized it wasn’t your beloved fiance. “You won’t be able to forget me again.”

“Wh-what are you-” you started, squirming in his grasp, body being stricken with panic and fear at the sight of the unknown man before you. You didn’t have it in you to pull his hand out of your pants, fingers still curled up into you, causing your mind to fuzzy more and more with each movement of his wrist.

His voice was quick to cut your whined words off, cooing sweetly, “Where’s that smile I’m looking for, sugar?”

You couldn’t speak, head spinning as it fell back, nails digging into his shoulder to keep you stable against the railing.

“Don’t you like this?”

86 notes · View notes

lovethoery · 1 year

Text

as always, everything is purely fictional. i do not know the members, and they act simply as characters for a story. please do not repost, rework, plagiarize, copy, or translate my work. all rights reserved and belong to lovethoery.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

please refer to my disclaimers for a full list of what i will write and who i will write for.

wanna support me? here's a few other ways! venmo + ko-fi + cashapp

updated: 08.07.23

anything with an [E] is explicit and includes smut!

##JOHNNY SUH

fall — 3.9k + fluff, angst

you've had a thing for your best friend, johnny, for three years and after some pushing from your roommate, ten, you build up the courage to tell him.

all night — 1.5k + smut

your boyfriend, johnny, decides that you're his to devour for the night.

##LEE JENO

mommy — 2.4k + smut

you finally let jeno get his dick wet for the first time in months... to say he's excited is an absolute understatement.

##JOHNNY SUH

04:07 PM, EST [E]

09:23 PM, EST [E]

##NAKAMOTO YUTA

12:01 AM, EST [E]

##KIM DONGYOUNG

02:31 AM, EST

##JEONG YUNO

04:24 AM, EST [sugg.]

04:03 PM, EST [E]

##MARK LEE

01:33 AM, EST [E]

02:17 AM, EST [E]

03:50 AM, EST [E]

03:56 AM, EST

04:07 AM, EST

##WONG KUNHANG

04:15 AM, EST

##JOHNNY SUH

ice play [E]

##LEE TAEYONG

breeding [E]

##NAKAMOTO YUTA

skinny dipping [E]

kinks [E]

##JEONG YUNO

first kiss

breeding [E]

dirty talk [E]

eating you out [E]

kinks [E]

spanking [E]

alpha tutor [E]

##MARK LEE

first kiss

cream pies [E]

kinks [E]

eating you out [E]

sweet nothings [E]

breeding [E]

studio head [E]

bathroom meetup [E]

##XIAO DEJUN

cocky [E]

##WONG KUNHANG

rings [E]

##LEE JENO

hockey player

##LEE DONGHYUCK

eating you out [E]

##NA JAEMIN

making love [E]

soft dom [E]

119 + jaemin [E]

kiss the girl + jisung

cellophane + mark

daddy issues + jaehyun [E]

how soon til they kiss you [dream and 127]

into praise [all units]

make you beg [all units]

cockwarming [127]

145 notes · View notes

vex91 · 3 months

Text

NCT Masterlist

(f) - fluff, (a) - angst, (af) - angst + fluff, (s) - smut

John Junsuh:

Nothing yet...

Lee Taeyong:

Nothing yet...

Nakamoto Yuta:

Nothing yet...

Qian Kun:

Nothing yet...

Kim Dongyoung:

Nothing yet...

Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul:

Nothing yet...

Jeong Yoonoh:

Nothing yet...

Dong Sicheng:

Nothing yet...

Kim Jungwoo:

Nothing yet...

Huang Xuxi:

Nothing yet...

Mark Lee:

Nothing yet...

Xiao Dejun:

Nothing yet...

Wong Kunhang:

Nothing yet...

Huang Renjun:

Nothing yet...

Lee Jeno:

Nothing yet...

Lee Donghyuck:

Nothing yet...

Na Jaemin:

Nothing yet...

Liu YangYang:

Nothing yet...

Osaki Shotaro:

Nothing yet...

Jung Sungchan:

Nothing yet...

Zhong Chenle:

Nothing yet...

Park Jisung:

Nothing yet...

OT23:

Nothing yet...

7 notes · View notes

soobrat · 2 years

Text

wingless angel; dsc

act i | act ii | final act milestone celebration masterlist

pairing; fuckboy!winwin x afab!reader

words; 3.2k

genre; estabished relationship, college au, smut, angst (light, you ain't seen nothin yet)

warnings; toxic relationship, slightly implied manipulation, virgin!reader, dubcon (just in case), slut shaming (actually, kinda), palming, multiple orgasms, fingering, piv, implied overstimulation, use of whore & slut, I think that covers it

preface; here is the first part of the first story of the 1k special! Thank you guys for 1k, this is already very fun~

act i ➻ moonlight

"Are you afraid?"

Sicheng's question makes you feel insecure. Why were you afraid? You really liked him, and you were officially together now. You knew very well he'd never do anything to hurt you. Still, you squirmed atop your bed, feeling seen in all the ways you didn't want to be.

"I-I don't know." Your gaze remains averted as you move from your knees onto your butt, hugging your knees against your chest. Sicheng thankfully doesn't get offended. Instead, he exhales amusedly before sliding closer to you on his knees. His long fingers sweeping your hair behind your ear garners you enough strength to push aside your embarrassment and look at him. He stares down at you fondly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"There's nothing to be afraid about. I'll take care of you, I always do." He raises his eyebrows, signifying that he knows you know he's right. You're unable to speak, once you give him the okay, this will actually happen. You'd be doing everything you saw in the countless porn videos you've watched over the years. It felt a bit overwhelming, but the way he looked down at you, you could see the hunger building in his gaze.

You admit you were very curious about being touched that way. All through your school days, the only physical interactions you've had with boys were accidental. With just a tiny brush of Wong Kunhang's hand against your arm, your heart was sent into a frenzy. You could barely hear the soft sorry he offered you. It felt like the culmination of all your emotions built up from your crush had come to a climax with just a simple touch. You were a child then, though. You wouldn't be that sensitive to touch now, right?

Reminiscing on the memory made fire flare up in your cheeks. The way your heart pounded in your ears for a week straight after that moment was strange, but you also remember how intoxicating the feeling was. Every night you clenched your eyes shut and imagined how it'd feel to hug him-- or god forbid-- kiss him. And now, standing in front of you, was someone so handsome and so sweet to you, ready to touch you enough to last you a lifetime. You were still nervous, yes, but now your interest was piqued. Plus, you could feel your panties starting to stick to your vagina uncomfortably and you wanted to do something about that.

"Okay," You start, grabbing his arms that reach out to you. "But! I've never even kissed a boy, Sicheng."

His expression falls, and the action makes your heart fall as well. "If you're not sure about this, we can stop." The sad look on his face makes you want to kick yourself.

"No, no!" You wave your hands in front of you, accompanying the action by shaking your head frantically. "That's not why I said that. It's just... I'm not experienced, okay?" You say, already defensive. "So don't judge me!"

Sicheng's face softens as he chuckles. "Of course not baby. In fact..." He brings his hand up to your face before pressing it against your cheek, reveling in the way you melt into it. The way your eyes flutter closed despite your furrowed brows suggesting you're still a bit apprehensive. "I like that about you."

Your eyes snap open. "What?! Why?" He smiles again.

"I think you're cute."

His words make you relax a bit. You drop your tense shoulders, exhaling. He shifts closer to you, biting his lip.

"And it makes me hard."

All of a sudden, his expression darkens. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip as his eyes trail lower. You gasp and hug your legs closer to your body. You feel like a hostage under his gaze so you turn your head away from him, hoping to dull the suffocating feeling overcoming you. It doesn't, instead it just makes you focus on an overwhelming ache. You've felt something similar whenever something you see or think of makes you especially horny, but this was stronger. It made it harder to breathe and your heart beat a mile a minute. You swallow hard.

"What's the matter, baby? Does it make you nervous when I talk about it?" You look back at him in hopes of understanding what he's referring to. He just stares back, that hungry look becoming more apparent.

"It?" You ask naively. It's exactly what he wanted to hear you say.

"Have you ever seen a dick before?"

Your eyes blow wide and he laughs in response, throwing his head back. "I-I have!"

"I'm guessing you haven't touched one, huh?" Sicheng narrows his eyes, implying that your incoming nod is the answer he expected. He clicks his tongue. "You wanna?"

Fuck, if that question didn't do things to you. It was a need that ran deeper than your pathetic fingers or any plastic could satisfy. You needed to feel his searing hot skin against yours or else you feared you might simply perish. The feeling scared you a bit, but man did it excite you. Sicheng had no clue about the mental turmoil he was putting you through.

"Is that a no?" He asks after your prolonged silence.

"N-no! I mean yes! Yes, I want to touch it." You nod frantically. He's quiet for a moment as he watches you. Unsure of what he wants, you decide to tweak your request. "Please?" You ask, tilting your head to the side in inquiry.

The ache you just caused in Sicheng's crotch was something you were completely oblivious to. "Of course baby." He cooes, grabbing one of your hands and pressing it against his hardening cock. You gasp, hands stiff and frozen against the appendage. You move your hand just to feel the full length of his dick, but the movement causes him to groan. You try to jerk your hand back, feeling as though you did something wrong, but his hand on your wrist keeps you there. He pushes his hips forward, pressing his hard cock against the coarse fabric of his jeans. You note how firm his dick feels and the heat radiating from it. It was so inviting.

"You like that?" He asks after you suck your bottom lip into your mouth. You look up at him and nod sheepishly. He felt like he'd explode just from how shy you were. "You're making me feel so good, you know that?"

"I am?" Your voice is weaker than you intended. The arousal fills your body and clouds your brain.

"Yeah. Don't you wanna feel good too?"

The words don't feel like they come out fast enough. "Yes I-I do."

"Here," Sicheng lifts you slightly to shift you back onto your knees. "Tell me how this feels..." He trails off as he moves his head toward your neck. You expose more of it to him and he hums happily at your pliant nature.

His wet mouth moves up the side of your throat, switching between kissing and licking. He goes slowly, monitoring your reaction. Your mouth falls open. Such a weird sensation is not one you expected to feel so good. Your heat felt like it was swelling in response. "Hah-"

Your mind was melting. You just wanted him. More of him. Your friends were all wrong. How could he be bad if he felt so good? His touch and his godsend of a mouth filled you with electricity. Bouncing from one end to the other before landing in your crotch. His lips make their way to an area near your ear.

"Oh-" Your breath gets caught in your throat as he sucks on the skin. You unintentionally squeeze his member and he groans right beneath your ear. The sound burns you up. You feel like you've been completely engulfed in flames by this point, but instead of searing pain, you felt utterly enraptured. Like you wanted to experience this forever, while also having a strong urge to climax already. Focusing too much made it confusing, so you focused instead on his lips. Lips you caught yourself staring at on multiple occasions.

"That feel good?" He mumbles against your skin. You nod for the umpteenth time that evening. His hands snake around your waist and squeeze your ass. Your eyes snap open, focusing on the moon just over his shoulder. The night air caused a slight wave in the curtains, shielding the moon from your view occasionally. Every time it caught your eye, you found yourself sinking more into him. Before you knew it, you were pressed against him completely. He leans back, tongue swiping over his lips.

You look over his eyes, his relaxed eyebrows, his dark hair. Yes, this was absolutely right.

"Sicheng." You grab his bicep and look deeply into his eyes. He raises his eyebrows.

"I want you to take me."

Hearing those words from your lips when he least expected it made his cock throb with renewed vigor. He guides you to lie down by your arms. He's not as gentle as you imagined, but he must be just as eager as you were. He rips your panties off with two firm tugs. "Sicheng!"

"What? They were probably cheap anyway." He silences your protests with a rough kiss, lips shoving against yours with bruising force as his fingertips danced along your slit. You gasp loudly as he sends his middle finger past your folds and into your entrance. The sound doesn't deter him, it actually seems to encourage him. "Did that surprise you baby?"

"Uh huh," You whimper, biting your lip as tears well up in your eyes. He gives you no time to adjust, instead he starts hammering inside. There's a subtle ache you detect as he stretches you open. "S-Sicheng! Oh god..." You don't get much time to collect your thoughts and digest the strange sensation you're experiencing. It's so much different from when you touch yourself. After loads of practice you settled on curling your fingers instead of thrusting them. A 'come hither' motion, as you learned it was called, is actually really popular among vagina owners. This, however, was overwhelming, but you weren't sure you exactly hated it. Or maybe it was the drunken look on Sicheng's face while he pleasured you. You couldn't focus long enough to be sure.

Especially when he slides in another finger. You breathe out an illegible noise as the digits slosh inside you. This felt better in a way you couldn't explain. The way he stretched you open provided a level of friction that was absolutely euphoric. You throw your head back into the pillows and clench the covers between your fingers.

"You're taking it so well baby. Think you can handle my cock?" He breathes.

"Yeah, want it-" You clench your thighs around his hand, his movement jostling your body back and forth.

"Cum around my fingers and I'll give it to you." His voice darkens as he leans closer to you. You yelp when he slaps one of your thighs and open them up in response. His fingers pump into you faster and faster until your mind goes blank. Every thought you sought to vocalize evaporates as your eyes roll into your skull.

"I'm-" Another loud gasp cuts your sentence short as pressure builds up in your abdomen.

"Let go. Let it all go for me princess."

To think that a man was here in your bedroom, Dong Sicheng to be exact, finger fucking you into your mattress was unbelievable. You didn't feel uneasy about it because it was him. Cracking your eyes open to look at him made you feel secure in that fact. You liked him so much that it filled you with endless warmth. You moan loudly as the pressure snaps, legs shaking as you come undone.

"You really like being fucked, don't you?"

Despite your post-orgasm haze, the question still catches you off guard and makes you embarrassed.

As he leans closer to you and swings his legs over your hips, he looks down at you as if he had just come to this worrying realization. "Are you a slut baby girl?"

Something about it worried you as well. You didn't want to upset him or anything.

"N-no I'm not a slut!"

"You're not? But only sluts enjoy getting their pussies fucked by some random guy's fingers." He draws his eyebrows together and you shake your head. You weren't sure why he was talking about this all of a sudden, but you felt an overwhelming urge to please him.

"You're not just a random guy."

Seemingly pleased by your answer, he raises his brows at you. "I see. And you're a good girl, right?"

You nod. "Yes, I'm a good girl."

"Mm," Sicheng undoes his jeans and shoves them down to his ankles. "You're a good girl who's only spreading her legs because it's me?"

"Yes." You whisper, face getting hotter at his word choice.

"I guess you're right. You're a good girl." His tone is almost reluctant as he pushes his underwear to join his jeans. You feel the meaty head of his penis prod against your entrance. It already feels so good, so right against you. Then he abruptly pushes it in, drawing a sharp inhale from you.

“I wanna fuck the good girl out of you.”

His hips drive into you with so much force your mind goes blank again. This time it’s severe. Your eyes roll back, mouth propped open awaiting a noise that just doesn’t come. You can feel him so deep inside you that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. A high-pitched squeak is all that manages to slip past. Again, soft or gentle aren't words you’d use to describe his actions. Sicheng has sweat beading his hairline from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“That’s right, take my cock like a slut.”

His words urge the words caught in your throat to release. “No! I’ll always be your good girl!” The sentence is punctuated by a pitiful whimper. He grabs your jaw and leans forward until his nose is touching yours. You struggle to properly take in his features, especially with the tears clouding your vision.

“Yeah? Even when I’m fucking you open like this? Hm?”

“Mhm!” Your hands fly to his back, fingernails sinking into his flesh. He grabs your legs, pushing them both to rest to the right of your head. The position makes it harder to breathe and your body feels like it’s being crushed. That combined with his newfound depth had your senses overwhelmed. You felt unbelievably full from his large cock. It was as big as the dildo you’d worked your way up to after several toys. On your own, however, you could control the speed and depth. You couldn’t dream of hammering it inside you like Sicheng was doing.

It was a feeling the deepest parts of you craved. To be rammed into a mattress and pushed right at the end of your limit where your body didn’t know how to react. And now you were getting what you fantasized about on your most depraved days. At first, you weren’t sure if you liked it. You were experiencing too much to take in all at once, but now that he’s found his rhythm and you’ve gotten used to it, it was better than all your fantasies.

“Fuck- don’t stop that feels so fucking good!” You cry out. Your own words surprise you, making you wonder if you really were the whore you denied you were.

“Yeah? How do you like getting your pussy stretched?” He asks breathlessly. You screw your eyes shut, focusing on the ring of your opening expanding wider than it ever had. Shit— was he bigger than your dildo? He had to at least be thicker. Any bigger and he’d split you in half. Just like your favorite piece of plastic, his tip was smashing against your cervix. You used to hate that feeling, but you slowly began to crave it. Something about it heightened your pleasure immeasurably.

“Hngh- Sicheng!” You strain out as your hands fly to caress him wherever they land. You settle on the soft skin at his nape while dipping your other hand under his shirt. Each thrust pushes a tiny noise out of you as he knocks your body into the mattress rigorously. You can feel energy building in your lower abdomen and it feels so sweet. All the sounds being pulled from you raise in pitch and volume as your legs begin to twitch. This was stronger than your average orgasm. You couldn’t wait to tell your friends. The verdict was out. You liked it rough, if the way you were about to spill all over your sheets was anything to go by. “Oh my god-! I’m cumming- Sicheng!”

Your hips snap to his, the soft, hot skin of his hips rubbing against yours as he readjusts. The base of his cock bends slightly before propelling back to the depths it had made its home. You gasp, clenching onto Sicheng’s shirt. He leans forward, pressing sloppy kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. Waves of fire ripple through your body as your eyes roll back. You clamp your legs around his hips to try and stabilize yourself. You chant ‘thank you’ as you come down, slowly releasing your legs as you fall back onto the bed. All you can manage to do in your boneless state is smile.

“Wow… I can’t believe I’ve been dating such a cock slut this whole time…” He chuckles before straddling your hips. Sicheng flips you onto your stomach before you can respond. “No sense in denying it, sweetheart. Hidden inside you is an insatiable whore just begging to be released. I can do that for you.” He wraps his arm around your chest, pulling your back flush against him. He rests his still hard cock against your ass.

“I’m sure a slut like you won’t mind a little more dick, huh?”

Five voicemails turn to ten, then twenty. Your friends were always persistent. Unfortunately, you just didn’t have the time. Sicheng has become more hungry to have you all the time, which means less time for meaningful activities. You needed space in your schedule for all the mind-blowing sex and long car rides to nowhere. The city was gorgeous at night. The wind cascading over you made for a nice contrast from the sun that loomed over you all day.

“Who are you texting?” Sicheng’s gaze lingers on your phone.

“No one- Hey! Eyes on the road.”

He reluctantly obliges, the slight pout he sports making you giggle. “No one. My friends have been sending me more voicemails.”

“More?” He asks in disbelief, before going quiet. His brows are knit together as he focuses on the road. “They don’t like me, huh?”

The mood instantly shifts, suddenly you’re in no mood to laugh at his child-like antics. You lock your phone before fiddling with the device. “I mean, they’re just worried about me. I don’t need to tell you I could be a little-”

“Naive? Yeah, I already know. After everything with Kun, I’d be worried too.”

You groan, dropping your phone into your lap. “But I’m an adult. You guys don’t need to worry about me.”

Sicheng just smiles, not confirming or denying the truth of that statement. “I’m just saying I understand why they’re worried. But come on. Kun? There’s no way they think I’m that bad.”

No, they don’t think he’s as bad as Kun. You chew on the inside of your cheek, sneaking a glance at your boyfriend.

They think he’s worse.

“Who cares what they think.” You answer, looking at him with conviction. He looks at you, expression seemingly surprised before it melts into a wide smile.

➻ end of act i

301 notes · View notes

neocoffeecafe · 9 months

Text

thats so punk!! [IN PROGRESS] masterlist | home | writing masterlist | fic rec library

✩ a series of y/n falling for different boys, each and every one of them sporting a leather jacket on bikes, and rings on their fingers, eyebrow piercings the only thing distracting you from locking eyes

a/n yooo! a series i’m not gonna give up on this time! a little series that stemmed from a little draft of what will be the yuta fic, which was just gonna be a silly little one shot. but i came up with some other ideas and it’s turning into a new series! beginning of production will start after the beginning of the new year of 2024. currently, this series has five members in its original lineup (yuta, johnny, haechan, yangyang, and hendery). depending on how it goes, if i get good ideas and/or requests/ideas from feedbacks i’ll probably end up expanding this series! 🫶

all installments will contain mature themes, slice of life, angst, and some fluff, considering to be an all-rounder series. every warning will be included on this masterlist

nice graffiti | nakamoto yuta

✩ every morning when you come into work theres some grafitti thats on the building walls. and you are the unlucky one to have to clean it up every morning. one night, you stay and lead a solo sting operation, curious to find the person behind it

includes/warnings:

a/n lightly inspired by the 1998 movie ‘pleasantville’! the first installment to this series and i am so happy to begin with this banger 🫶

angel eyes | johnny suh

✩ no summary at this time

includes/warnings

a/n

doll | lee donghyuck (haechan)

✩ no summary at this time

includes/warnings

a/n

super bass | liu yangyang

✩ no summary at this time

includes/warnings

a/n

cigarette smoke | wong kunhang (hendery)

✩ no summary at this time

includes/warnings

a/n

gotta get it rollin | na jaemin

✩ no summary at this time

includes/warnings

a/n

@neocoffeecafe

2 notes · View notes

anythingrelatingtojinyoung · 1 year

Text

NCT Recs

A- Angst, S-Smut F-Fluff

Poly Series by Sluttyten ASF

Smashing the Six by Yutaholic AS

NCT 127

Lee Taeyong

Small Doses by Yutaholic AS

Johnny Suh

Chance Encounter by Kaepop-trash ASF

Nakamota Yuta

That’s rich! By Tyonfs ASF

Call Me by Your Name by Yutaholic S

Kim Doyoung

Atlas by Wincore A

F.U.C.K by Moonctzeny ASF

Hungry for You by Sluttyten S

Dive by Seren1tyhaze S

Jeong Jaehyun

The Cowboy by Prettywordsyouleft AF

Work of Art by noonaisheyte AF

Kim Jungwoo

Mark Lee

Lee Donghyuck

NCT Dream

Huang Renjun

Lee Jeno

Summer of Love by Lattaeyongs F

Na Jaemin

Zhong Chenle

Park Jisung

Wayv

Qian Kun

Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul

Dong Sicheng

Xiao Dejun

Wong Kunhang

Liu YangYang

#rec:nct

7 notes · View notes

ningngyu · 11 months

Text

wayv masterlist!

please do not copy or steal any of my work! feel free to send in requests!

KEY! a - angst f - fluff s - suggestive

OT6

reactions!

- nothing yet!

texts

- nothing yet!

qian kun !

- nothing yet!

ten lee !

- nothing yet!

dong sicheng !

- nothing yet!

xiao dejun !

- nothing yet!

wong kunhang !

- nothing yet!

liu yangyang !

- nothing yet!

#wayv masterlist #wayv x reader #xiaojun x reader #kun x reader #ten lee x reader #winwin x reader #yangyang x reader #hendery x reader #wayv imagines

5 notes · View notes

jungcity · 4 years

Text

𝟓𝟎𝟓.

GENRE: crime, romance, slice of life

PAIRINGS: bandit!hendery, sacristan!female reader

WORD COUNT: 27,632

SONG PROMPTS: Godless - BANKS, 505 - Arctic Monkeys, Some Unholy War - Amy Winehouse, Robbers - The 1975 | [full playlist here.]

WARNINGS: Please observe proper discretion for this story deals with themes of adultery, orphanhood, child abuse, child neglect, deaths, violence, manipulation and suggestive stuff.

NOTE: This is a part of the crime!au collaboration held by @neovisioned. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Please be aware that this story would have references that revolves around Catholicism. I am by no means wish to be exclusive to those who has the same religion as I. Upon pondering the plot of this story, religion would be a mandatory part, hence I chose mine since it is what I know best.

TAGLIST: @legendnct @cloudysuh @eyypeach @mjlkau @cherub-vivi

i. I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth…

Trails of white smoke circled the candle as you snuffed out the fire from the matchsticks. The heavy rain raged on, with the branches slapping the gothic windows of Father Ben’s chamber. The priest sat on a rocking chair near the aperture, watching the thunder and lightning as they continue to battle for dominion over the heavens.

“Father,” you called out softly. He hummed but did not turn to face you. Over the months that you have worked and helped Father Ben tend to the church, you noticed how particularly silent he could be whenever the clouds are pouring. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” you asked.

For the past few days, Father Ben would tell you about shadows prowling around the church. Two boys, he claims. Sometimes they are three. Bandits, no doubt.

“Be careful on your way home, hija. Bring my umbrella so you won’t get soaked.” And that has been the last words he spoke.

You pressed your lips into a thin line. There would be no point forcing the priest. Perhaps he does not want your mother to worry about you.

You closed the door of the priest’s chamber and made your way down the creaky staircase. The church hadn’t been renovated since the middle of the pandemic that had swept across the whole world. This structure hadn’t tasted new paints and new rivets yet for ten years.

Father Ben resides where the choral sings everyday. Since Father lost all his relatives to the pandemic, he made it built for him. Perhaps that was the reason why he was too quiet. You haven’t lost anyone to it, but you knew a lot of people who died because of it and have friends who had lost their fathers and mothers, even siblings, to it.

You fastened the latch of every door inside the church before you walked towards the main door. Laying the lamp on the floor, you unlatched the wooden door. The blustery and frigid wind flows through the opening, misting your feet and right arm as you leaned to grab the lamp and struggle to open the umbrella.

By good fortune, the rain softened as you departed the church. Bougainvilleas wrapping the façade of the structure made eerie shadows as the moon casted down its light to it. You made your way to the small village you live in.

“Hail Holy Queen, Mother of mercy…” echoes the praying mothers and daughters in front of their altars.

You cannot not help but be fascinated by the orange lamp lights in their homesteads, as you saw the women of every family kneel and make their prayers. Ever since the end of the pandemic five years ago, your village has been humming novenas every six p.m. or eight p.m. at night. You heard it was the same for the neighboring village, too.

“Hail our life, our sweetness and our hope…” You heard the little voices of innocent children as they tried to copy the words. It made your heart flutter. “To Thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To Thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.”

Until you reached your street, prayers echoed. Your house loomed as you turn left. Gathering your skirt, you hopped over a puddle of mud and continued walking.

“Mom, I’m home,” you declared upon stepping your feet inside.

Mom was on her usual place near the fireplace, knitting new pillowcases with the dim light from the fire. She turned her head to see you, then pulls down her reading glasses to examine your slightly soaked skirts.

“I thought you’re sleeping in the church?” she asked as she twiddled the needle with her fingers.

“Father Ben won’t allow me,” you simply answered as you trodded towards the kitchenette.

There was only one light inside the house. It was located between the kitchenette and living room. During the pandemic, all energy had been used to fuel hospitals as well as quarantine facilities for the affected citizens. Energy had been lacking ever since.

You went back to the living room with a plate in hand. Food has been scarce in this part of town. But your mother has a little vegetable farm in the backyard. So it’s vegetable salad every night.

“Tomorrow is the first Sunday of the month,” she began, “Did you prepare anything?”

You munched while watching the needle pierce through the fabric. “Mayor Rosales failed to give us sponsorship. But we have gathered some money from the houses nearby the highway.” Those people who live near the highway were what you could call the richer ones. They have convenience stores lining up, and they pretty much sell anything a villager might need. “Father wants to feed the children this time.”

“Would that be enough? The money?”

“We’ll make do,” you sighed.

Mother hummed. “Bring the vegetables tomorrow, then. I’ve harvested enough for ingredients.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Mother.”

ii. And in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord…

He came into your life like a fog in the dawn; mysterious, hazy, and cold. The boy with the secret of the universe in his eyes, and danger playing along his boyish smile rang your door in the year 2040. When hope has only started to rebuild itself after the terrors of a sickness nobody had been able to see.

Easy smile, childlike laughters and soft hair— that has been him.

Your first encounter had been outside the church. Where he leaned in a big motorcycle while puffing smokes from his cigarette.

“Kids, please line up according to your height,” you told the children softly. Big innocent eyes stared back at you with excitement.

When suddenly, Lucy, the other sacristan, gestured to you to come over the front line where the food is located. “No pushing,” you warned the kids before leaving them with Rei, another sacristan.

“What is it?” you asked.

Lucy motioned her puckered lips towards the exit. “Could you tell him to smoke somewhere else?”

You followed her gesture. And your gaze landed straight to him as he blew out smoke from his lips. He playfully inhales from the cigarette bud and puffed it carelessly in the air. He was looking straight at the spot where you were currently glued at. Both of you held each other’s eyes, and you felt lost in those mysterious orbs for a good second until Lucy cleared her throat to gather your attention.

Spontaneously, your brows immediately shot up in vexation. It was forbidden to smoke inside and around the church’s vicinity. You gathered your skirts and sauntered up to him. As you near closer to him, you have caught a sight of a black patch plastered on the side of his neck.

The boy cocked a brow as he saw you nearing. You ignored his reaction and cleared your throat. But your breath seemed to be sweeped out of your lungs yet again when you realized that the black patch was a tattoo. It reads the word pervivo. “Mister, it is not allowed to smoke around the church. Could you please take that somewhere else?”

Instead of tossing his cigarette, he took a long sip from the bud and blew the smoke to your face. Shocked and absolutely disgusted, you fanned away the smoke frantically while coughing out the chemical that has succeeded to reach your nostrils and throat.

“What the—”

“Fuck?” he finished. The smoke slowly dissipates, revealing his dead set of eyes staring at you. He, then, threw the bud to the ground before crushing the ashes with the tip of his boot. “Can’t really cuss in here, can you?”

Such audacity! Your nose flared while trying to collect the little patience left in your system. Boys like him never failed to irate you.

Smoothing out your skirt, you straightened your spine with as much dignity as you can muster. “Blowing smoke—”

For the second time, the boy interrupted you by waving his hand high up in the air. “Father!” he shouted. The boy jogged the distance towards the line of children in front of the church to clap Father Ben’s back. Frozen on your feet, you stared at him in horror.

“Do you know him, Father?” you motioned your head to the boy who was casually smiling from ear to ear beside the priest. As if he didn’t deadpan at you earlier.

Father Ben stretched his lips into what you could call a small smile. “Hendery’s from the city. He’s to be our new sacristan.”

There was literal ringing in your ears by what you have heard. Hendery? A new sacristan? “Wait…” You let out an incredulous noise. “What?”

“I’m Hendery Wong. I came here to be the new sacristan.” The boy stretched out his hand to you. You look at it with reluctance evidently etched through your face.

“I don’t understand,” you managed to say while shaking Hendery’s hand. He has been surprisingly calloused, juxtaposing his soft and pretty face.

“I know you will soon, hija,” Father Ben said, “And I trust you to help Hendery adjust to the work here. Can you do that?”

Hendery’s smile never left his face. It was as if he was relishing to the predicament that you were in instead of being friendly. However, you couldn’t really turn down Father Ben. And it was not right to jump on your prejudices. Cigarettes and tattoos doesn’t mirror someone else’s personality. Hendery deserved the benefit of the doubt.

So you sighed. “I can, Father. Rest assured that I’ll show Hendery around.”

Father Ben tapped your shoulder lightly before joining Lucy to prepare the food for the children, leaving you with the new boy.

“So,” he began, garnering your attention. When you turn to look at him, Hendery’s demeanor has already changed. Or perhaps it was only your judgment getting the best of you. But there was a spark of something dangerous in the way that he looked at you. As if his eyes were the tip of the cigarette he inhaled mere minutes ago. Flickering— with a promise of charring if you ever come close. “Shall we begin?”

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, you sighed deeply. “Could you wash and sanitize first? You know, you actually held a cigarette and we don’t wanna contaminate the food, right?”

His smile grew wider, erasing the enigma he exuded seconds ago. “Do you have a mask? You know, I’ve sipped a cigarette and we don’t want my spit to fly towards the food, right?”

You looked at him sharply. “Yes, we do have a mask. It’s become pretty mandatory since twenty years ago.”

Hendery stretcheso out his hand to let you walk first. From the long table on which the food has been placed, you grabbed a surgical mask to give to Hendery. When you turned to face him, he held up his hands suddenly.

“I haven’t yet washed my hands. I’ll appreciate it if you’ll put those here,” he said while pointing at his ear.

He really was something. And you have found it oddly… endearing. You haven’t known ice and fire could co-exist in a single person. Until you have met him. You gulped— and you have no idea why— as you draped the strings of the mask around his ears. His mouth and nose disappeared, but that failed to decrease his beauty.

What is happening to you? In your whole existence, you have met boys with stars in their eyes but this has been your first time to see the whole universe in someone else’s irises.

You shook your head as Hendery departed in front of you to wash his hands.

Pretty boys are only boys until you try to make a verselet out of them. That was the line you have never wanted to cross.

Hendery would only be a word. Not poetry. Or would he?

iii. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit, and born of the Virgin Mary…

When you were amongst the poor during the pandemic, your survival rate would be extremely challenged. Luckily for you, your father had run a small business that successfully provided for your family during those trying times.

Five years ago, the world made its reset when it came to economy and livelihood. Almost all businesses shut down. The luxuries and opulence of the year 2020 had been vanquished completely.

Billionaires finally witnessed that they weren’t the gods they once thought they were as the claws of the sickness reached their thrones and destroyed their castles.

Regardless of the Internet’s power, trade fell. With it the Internet celebrities in YouTube, Tiktok, Instagram, Twitter— you name it.

Notwithstanding, the 2020’s pandemic hadn’t been the only one to devastate the Earth.

There had been multiple environmental issues, like the raging of wildfires in sundry forests across the globe. World War III also threatened to break out of its cage as countries fought for dominance over lands they clearly had no business to claim.

Police brutality rages on. Their authority had been used for mayhem other than peace. It has breached the lives of people, especially to that of the black community. Everything went clusterfuck because the authorities think some people are inferior to them. They harmed rather than serve.

Chaos. Death. Fear. Those three things have managed to leave a blotch of bleakness that now blanketed the Earth.

The death toll exceeded that of the Black Plague that had swept across Europe hundreds of years ago. Hospitals transformed to that of a colony— the patients as the ants. Total panic enveloped everyone. Especially the poor, whose only shield against it had been a little bottle of alcohol.

Great Depression two-point-o, some would call the economy right now. Minimal jobs were offered, but the salary won’t be enough to feed a family of four.

Poverty’s poison didn’t fail to contaminate the globe. It strengthened its hold to the third world country, and flowed slowly to those in the upper level of society. Despite it all, everyone collapsed on its feet: adults with dreams for the younger generations. Teenager with dreams for the future. And children who were only starting to build their aspirations.

With it, the hopes of the seven-year-old boy who has the constellations in his eyes and a promise of tomorrow in his innocent face. It had all been obliterated because of heartache and neglect.

Hendery witnessed it every night; the shoutings of his mother, and the hopelessness in his father’s face as yet another job had turned him down. His bedroom walls didn’t muffle the sound— the silence only intensified it.

“You are a useless piece of shit!” her mother would scream.

Despite that, Hendery’s father would only cover his face with his hands. He would absorb every nag and every hurtful words his wife would throw at him. Because tomorrow would be another day to fight and he couldn’t afford losing the battle now. At least, that was what Hendery believed.

Never once did he hear his mother ask about his sake. Never once did he hear the words, “What about Hendery? He would starve!”

Starve he did.

A lanky seven-year-old, his neighbors would call him. Salt and rice every night. You only have to close your eyes and eat. Wash down the taste with water and sleep.

The home that was meant to give him comfort had turned his own hell. Its unfavorable walls would suffocate him every day. Its dull and dirty carpet would be his only friend for the days that would come.

And as if the world wasn’t done throwing knives and rocks at his back, Hendery found something that had completely deteriorated the little boy in him.

One day, when he was returning from their neighbor’s house— full and a little bit energetic— he found his mother’s clothes littered over the floor, with it were pants and shirts that didn’t belong to his father.

With his boy heart and still developing mind, Hendery sat in the kitchen. The noise of his mother’s adultery echoed across the whole house. Hendery patiently waited for it to stop, sitting there with his feet dangling from the chair.

Then the door clicked open, revealing his mother and the man he didn’t recognize. From his position to the kitchen, his mother failed to notice him. But Hendery could see everything unfolding before his very eyes. The unknown man picked up his clothes. When he was completely dressed, he fished for his wallet and handed Hendery’s mother money.

That night, there were sausages and eggs in the table. His mother was enthusiastic, but there was a dull spark in her eyes. His father, too, despite the smile on his lips, was a flash of apology in his orbs.

Hendery slept soundly. A tear escaping his eye.

“Why are you crying?” You crouched in front of a boy named Kristan. Snot and tear has already mixed up in his face to create dirty splotches. You held his hands softly to put beside his body.

Kristan sniffed. But did not answer.

“Kristan, tell me what happened,” you gently asked. His head bowed down deeper, as if he was embarrassed and scared to tell you anything. Kristan, he was one of your favorites despite his silent comportment and shy eyes.

Ever since Father Ben decided to teach the children from the village basic education at the church, you have been curious about Kristan. There was something about the boy. Sadness. Melancholy. Loneliness.

“I am here—” You were interrupted by Hendery, who also crouched beside Kristan. “What are you doing?” you deadpan.

Hendery ignored you, as he focused on Kristan. He puts his hand on his shoulder and pulls down his mask. “Tell me who among these kids beat you up,” he whispered, “Was it him?” Then he pointed towards the other boy who was curiously watching the three of you.

The slightest shock adorned Kristan’s face. He looked at you warily, obviously perturbed by Hendery’s presence.

You smiled at him to tell him it’s alright. And that he doesn’t need to be cautious around Hendery. Although you didn’t know about that yourself. Hendery was still a mystery.

“They… didn’t hurt me,” Kristan said through his snuffles. “Thank… you, Miss Y/N,” he added, then he looked at Hendery, “And to you… Mister…?”

“Hendery. Call me Hendery.”

“Mister Hendery,” Kristan said, practicing the new syllables of Hendery’s name. Kristan bowed before walking towards the line of boys again.

Concerned about the well-being of the boy, you sighed. When you turned to go back to packing the foods, Hendery walked up towards Kristan again.

“What is this?” he asked while slightly pulling up the little boy’s sleeves. There was a purple mark right on his arm. Something that definitely resembled a contusion.

When Kristan realized what was happening, he flinched away from Hendery.

You hurried beside him once more, brows furrowed. “Kristan, what is that?”

His eyes were fervent, lips quivering while wriggling free of your hold from his arm. Because of the fear that you might hurt him, you let Kristan go. He ran away.

Father Ben rushed towards you, robes billowing like waves against the pavement. “What is happening?” he asked.

You shared a look with Hendery before answering, “Hendery and I saw something in his arm— something like a bruise,” you explained. “Father, I think there’s something going on with Kristan, and I am deeply concerned about his well-being.”

The priest listened and nodded his head. “Follow me, the both of you,” he commanded before pivoted on his heel.

Without offering Hendery a glance, you followed Father Ben inside the church and to his chamber. When all three of you were secured inside, Father Ben locked the door.

You couldn’t help but observe Hendery as he roamed his eyes around the room. As if he was searching for something. Something valuable. But when he looked at you, he smiled and all your doubts vanished in a blink. How could happiness and sadness co-exist at the same time in someone else’s body?

The sound of papers shuffling woke you from your reverie. Father Ben raised up a paper, and studied it with his reading glasses.

“Here is Kristan’s birth certificate,” he announced. “His mother died giving birth to him. Kristan is being taken care of his father, his alcoholic father, at their house in the southeast part of the village.”

You listened carefully to each word. You already know that Kristan’s only living parent was his father. But never once did Father Ben shared the reality of him being alcoholic. Goosebumps crawled onto your back as realization slowly weaved its way through your mind.

“His father’s hurting him,” Hendery pronounced beside you.

Father Ben hummed. “That, we do not yet know. So it’d be really helpful if the both of you would venture to their house and check for your own eyes. I would’ve gone myself but I won’t be able to fight his father if it ever comes to that,” Father Ben continued, “He’s quite well-known as an aggressive man.”

“And… I suppose Hendery could fight him off?” You raised a brow. Hendery’s built wasn’t like that of a body-builder. He definitely belonged to the species of boys with sad eyes and skinny bodies. Dangerous. Utterly dangerous.

He chuckled— a quite rumbling sound that could stir butterflies inside a woman’s stomach. “I’m quite a fighter, Y/N,” he said.

You sighed. “Let’s just hope that it won’t come to aggression.” Then you focused your attention back to the priest. “What of me? What can I contribute, Father?”

Father Ben placed the paper back to his drawers. “You have your wits in you, hija. Convince his father to give us Kristan for a while until he gets his life on the right path.”

After Father Ben’s instruction, the both of you made your way down the stairs. You still couldn’t understand why Father Ben asked Hendery to come. He was from town after all. Townspeople weren’t so used to life in the countryside. In their towering factories and buildings, they still pretend that they have the glory of the past.

“Are you really from the city?” you asked, turning your body to face him. He descended the last step while you stood on the second.

His steps halted at the question, then he tilted his head quite a bit too see you. “What of it?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Having someone journey here from the city’s pretty unusual.” You descended the stairs and walked ahead of him.

“Having villagers in the city’s never been heard before,” he snorted.

Your brows furrowed. Was that an insult? Or was he simply baiting you? Whatever that meant, you halted. “What are you implying? That we don’t have the means to go to the city?” When Hendery shrugged, you puffed out your chest and held your chin up high. “Well, must I say to you that it’s pretty decent living in here than pretend to have riches in the city.”

He only chuckled, driving you irate even more. “We don’t pretend, Y/N.”

You have decided not to answer for your own well-being. He was truly a city boy. Arrogant. Condescending. Too full of himself. And you mustn’t bother yourself with him. Hendery was on the other side of your own spectrum. There was no point understanding a boy you have just met.

“Oh, wait.” You halted when you finally reached the exit door of the church. “I’ll ask Lucy if you could borrow her bicycle.” When you turned to leave, Hendery caught your wrist. Everything about you stopped functioning by the touch. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to boys holding you— but yes, you could say that.

“We can ride my motorbike,” he suggested, “Much more convenient, don’t you think?”

Oh, no. No, no, no. If the year 2020 had learned its way towards openness and liberty, well, 2040 failed to adapt to that. “No,” you simply answered.

“No? What do you mean no? You’ll only ride behind me, then we’ll take off.”

You groaned. “City boys.” If anyone would see you riding a big motorbike, they would curse you as if you were the demon. You despised the notion yourself. And it was really tempting to try new things once in a while. Perhaps you were only being stupid— or naive. There was no harm riding a big black and shiny motorbike, right? You heaved out a deep sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”

Hendery’s confused visage turned to that of a bright one when he, once again, flashed you his pearlescent teeth. He jogged the distance towards his motorbike. Without any word, he hopped and snapped the pedal with his right foot.

“Hop in,” he said.

You raised a brow. “Helmet?”

“Church girls,” he groaned. You opened your mouth to speak, but Hendery once again cut you off, “Where is the fun in riding a motorbike if you’d wear a helmet?”

“Hendery, it’s a safety protocol if you aren’t—”

Once again, he groaned, “Where’s the fun in ‘safe’? Hop in.” He tilted his head to the side, encouraging you to finally hop in his motorbike.

“I think I’m gonna ride—”

“Y/N,” he firmly called, “Sometimes, you also have to taste the danger.” Then he reached for your hand. You would have flinched away, but the warmness of his palm hindered you from doing so. “Don’t you trust me?”

Trust? Mother says don’t talk to strangers. It has been a mantra of every little girl as they grow up. But you aren’t a little girl no more.

Other than his melancholic eyes, his name is all you know about him. And how could you trust the swirl of danger in his irises? However, humans are vexatious. They don’t always follow the rules.

When you are fed with deprivation of something extraordinary, you grow hankering after it.

You took Hendery’s hand. With your heart thudding inside your chest, you grasped your skirt and pulled your body upwards to sit on his motorbike. Hendery revved the engine, twisting his hand around the accelator.

“Please, slow down—!” Your chests collided against his back by the impact. Hendery chuckled, but he did not heed your cries. He rode through the road ahead, shoulders still rumbling of his laughters.

Skirt ballooning out, you prayed to God that you won’t meet your doom today. This has been a bad idea. A very bad one at that. What would people say if they witness a sacristan— a sacristan woman— riding this black motorcycle? With her skirts billowing out in the open? Oh, no. Your mother would whip you to shreds.

“Where are we going?” Hendery shouted.

You clutched on his front shirt tightly, afraid that the wind would surely swoosh you away if you do so much as to slacken your hold. “Where are we now?” you shouted back. Because you refused to sit up straight, you shielded yourself with Hendery’s body. And now your position shielded you away from seeing anything other than the road beneath the wheels.

“Y/N, please sit up straight.” He laughed. Oh, this boy relishes to your suffering. He really was. “We are currently entering a village…?”

You willed yourself to sit. Surely, it won’t kill you. You have seen actresses ride behind their own James Deans in big motorcycles such as this one.

“Alright, alright, I’ll slow down.” But Hendery’s words were muffled by the air. However, you felt the wheels roll slowly as it enters your village. Your village. Oh, no.

“No, please don’t! Faster, Hendery!” When he refused to rev the accelerator, you pinched his sides.

“Aw! Alright, alright!” Without another word, Hendery drove through the houses.

You obscured our face as much as you could. You couldn’t afford having someone recognize you. It won’t happen.

“Y/N, where are we going?” he asked for the second time. “We’re away from the houses. No one can see you here but the grasses,” he taunted.

You opened your eyes and saw the ground below, as well as the grasses. It only means you were well away from your village. You exhaled and sat up. “Turn left.”

“Left? Is there life at the end of this road?”

You deadpanned, “City boys.”

“No, seriously?”

“Yes, there is Hendery. It’s the most isolated part of the village— please look at the road,” you reminded him when he attempted to face you sideways.

“Kristan’s from here?”

“Apparently.”

He nodded his head. “He walks this distance every day?”

“Yes.”

It was somehow weird to talk about life in the countryside with a city boy. If Hendery was, indeed, from the city. You have no idea about the city ever since the pandemic. This has always been your home; the trees, the grasses, the kind neighbors, and a pious village. The liveliness of the wen— if claims were to be trusted— has been no more than a thing left in the back of your mind. It was almost a name you have no idea how to pronounce.

“You, too?” Hendery asked. A question you didn’t expect to hear.

“Uh-huh.” Then a chuckled. “We’re left with no choice since we have no resources when it comes to vehicles.”

“How do you go to the city, then?”

“We don’t go to the city. Unless it is needed.”

Hendery hummed. “And how do you go?”

“We ask the chieftain to lend us the ambulance.”

“The ambulance?” he asked.

The road becomes bumpy because of rocks, so you hold on him tightly once again. Hendery chuckled at your action, but did not bait you.

“Yes,” you answered. “Oh, we’re here,” you announced as Kristan’s village looms ahead. It was shielded away from your eyes because of the trees circling the whole vicinity.

“Do they sleep with snakes here?” There wasn’t any jeer to his voice, only curiosity.

You snorted. “Why don’t you stay for the night to try?” You gathered your skirt then planted your heel to the ground. With a swing of your leg, you hopped off his motorbike.

“I’d like to.” Hendery fished out a packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. He pressed one between his fingers and lit the tip with a lighter.

“Is that necessary?” you asked.

People in this part of town weren’t welcoming. That was why it didn’t come off as a shock to know that Kristan’s father was alcoholic. It simply was the way of living here: alcohol, cigarettes, cards. That being said, having an outsider such as Hendery venture here could provoke the most hard-headed fathers and boys alike.

Hendery sipped then blew smoke out in the air. “What are you scared of?”

For a minute, you caught a spark in his irises. It was as if he didn’t ask about your fears— but your insecurities. And of the things you wanted to try but couldn’t. Or perhaps it was only you, digging deeper into the simple question.

“God,” you simply answered.

“There is no god,” he retorted.

That caught you off-balance. An aspiring sacristan wouldn’t say that. “Father says you want to be a sacristan. How could you? When you don’t have any faith?”

Hendery stopped for a second before blinking. “There is no god but God the Father Almighty in heaven.” Then he flashed you a smile. You furrowed your brows. “Shall we?” he asked, throwing out his cigarette to the ground.

You shrugged.

Different sets of eyes pierced your bodies as you and Hendery trodded the dusty road. Mothers with their youngest born straddling their waists peered through wooden gates. Fathers with their cigarettes and beer bottles scrutinized you from head to toe. You were covered from your neck down your heel, but they look at you as if you were naked.

Hendery beside you exudes indifference. Shoulders straight and chin up high, Hendery stared every man down. You didn’t know if that’s a good idea or not. The last thing you need was a brawl between him and the juveniles surrounding you.

Finally, you have reached Kristan’s home. It ws made of cement and sawali, just like most of the houses you have just passed by.

You smoothed out your skirt before knocking. One, two, three knocks before his Father greeted you with a grunt.

“What d’ya want?” he asked in a rumpled voice.

Hendery stepped beside you. “We’re here to talk.”

Kristan’s father wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t have anytime for you—”

“It’s about Kristan,” Hendery stated, jaw clenching.

To be honest, you didn’t expect him to make the talking. You could do it yourself. But you were still thankful that he was with you right now.

Kristan’s father rests his body against the doorframe. “What about my son?” Yes, he did ask about his son. However, there wasn’t any trace of concern in his voice.

You cleared your throat. “Father Ben wants to take care of Kristan for a while, until we’re sure that he’s safe living here.”

You heard the crashing of his beer bottle first, before you felt the tightening of your throat by the way he grabbed your collar.

“No one tells me what to do—”

Your first instinct had been to lash out on him, but your anger got the best of you. Before you could act out on your own, Hendery wrapped his hand around the man’s wrist. With force, he pushes him away and twisted the bone.

You stared in horror as Kristan’s father screamed in pain while holding his broken wrist. “Hendery!” you shouted as he sauntered towards the man. Hendery grabbed his head and slammed his knees against his nose, once again cracking the bones.

Thunderstruck beyond comprehension, you flew towards Hendery. “Hendery! Stop!”

Kristan’s father was on the ground, clutching his bleeding nose. Hendery towered over him with clenched fist, ready to pounce at any given time. Before he could swing yet another blow, you already lay hold of his arm.

“What are you doing?!” you asked, out of breath.

“Beating the shit out of him,” he said in nonchalance.

“That— isn’t what Father Ben asked as to do,” you reminded him, despite the fact that Father Ben indeed expected a brawl.

Hendery’s muscles relaxed nonetheless. He pointed a finger towards Kristan’s father who’s still on the ground, glaring at the both of you.

You grapple for words— anything. “Did you hurt your son?” you ask.

“What of it? You don’t have a child so you won’t understand how it is to discipline one,” he answered.

Hendery crouched. You grabbed hold of his back collar. “You fucking hurt your son again,” he spits, “I will kill you.”

“Father, I’m home— Miss Y/N?”

The three of you turned your attention towards the little boy who entered the house. Kristan. He was holding a plastic of what you could tell was a bag of vegetables.

Kristan’s eyes turns to Hendery, and to his bloodied father. “Mister Hendery? What are you doing here?”

“You’ll come with us for a while,” Hendery said.

“What is happening?”

You crouched in front of the boy and lay hold of his shoulders. “Father Ben asked us to take you back to the church. Where you’ll stay for a while until your Father learns how to be a good one.”

“Really?” Kristan asked in relief.

Has this house been his hell that it’s a relief to be away from his father? You frowned at the thought.

“But… Father— he’s going to be alone.”

“Ask your Father. We still need his approval after all,” you explained.

Kristan walked towards his father, who was standing and padding his pants. Hendery crossed his arms over his chest, watching the man warily.

“Father, is it okay if I’ll leave for a while? Will you be fine?” the little boy asked.

“Go! Do what you want! Don’t come back!” he shouted.

However, Kristan didn’t flinch. It was as if he had been to used to this kind of treatment. “Alright, I’ll come back. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.” Then he hugged his Father’s hips.

You looked away, unable to watch the scene unfolding before your eyes. It would seem as if Hendery couldn’t take it in himself, for your eyes crossed as he looks away, too.

“Take care and be good. I love you, Father.” Kristan turned his back against his Father. He smileed at you and took your hand. You held his hand tightly and spared his Father one last look.

He turned his back the same time his tear slid down his face. You swallowed the lump in your throat before bowing slightly as a goodbye.

iv. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried…

Pandemic and poverty, it truly was a wonder how Hendery survived such dreadful times. Perhaps there was really a god, lurking somewhere, ready to grant the wishes of the people during those awful times.

Yet as far as Hendery was concerned, nobody prayed for him when the pandemic striked him. Right, this lanky seven-year-old’s suffering didn’t end after he found out about his mother’s adultery.

At first, Hendery brushed off the heaviness of his eyelids together with his parched throat as a common sickness. He never told his mother or father about it, for the fear that it might fruit into something their financial stability won’t be able to answer for.

But then hours had gone by, with Hendery’s air passage slowly closing in on him. As if a boulder was placed right in on his lungs, demanding his life by choking him. Cough dry and head aching, Hendery twisted and turned on his bed, unable to think clearly. He felt as if he was dying— dying in the most horrible way possible.

Thereafter, he believed that he had gone in and out of consciousness, or perhaps it was only his vision going blurry from the ache his body was trying to fight off.

Hendery failed to recognize his father as he leaned to check his son. And he failed to recognize the feeling of being scooped up from the bed, with his father shouting for help as if his life depended on it.

Blotches of darkness swam in his line of sight. The cries of his mother as well as the panicked shouts of his father were muffled by his coughing.

Would this be the end? Was this the life the gods had planned out for him? To die young? To die without a fight? How do you accept this fate?

For once, he wanted to see the end of this pandemic. He wanted to witness the rainbow after this storm. For once, he yearned to see something beautiful. Just once.

Hendery fully succumbed to oblivion.

When he woke up, it was the white light that filled his vision. Was it heaven? Hendery tried to make sense of his surroundings, but no noise could be heard other than the beeping of machines around him.

His eyelids fluttered open completely. The ceiling to where his hospital bed was located flashed above him like a canvas of nothing but white. There was a tightness in his nose, and he realized that he was breathing through an apparatus.

Hendery tried to move his fingers. They were mobile, albeit frail. It’s the same with his feet. Perhaps it was the incessant ravaging of the cough against his lungs that made him sick to the bones. He would’ve thanked whoever there was to be thankful for, if not for the uncertainty that was still stretching out in front of him. The pandemic wasn’t a one-night killer. It would render you infirm for weeks— it’s only up to the doctors and your own antibodies if they won’t collapse and give up on you.

And Hendery’s feeble state, as well as his age, failed to give him much hope.

He would die, right there— alone. God has shunned him away. He refused to cry, since no amount of tears could appease the loneliness inside him.

Hendery closed his eyes again.

The second time he woke, the doctors were smiling in front of him. The nurses guided him out of his bed. They even helped him get dressed in new clothes. Baffled was an understatement for what he felt that day. Was he out of danger? Could he truly live now? With his mother and father once again?

For the first time since his life went downhill, Hendery smiled. There wasn’t a reason not to. If he could, he would jump from happiness. He did it. He survived.

Hendery excitedly roamed his eyes around him from the wheelchair, hoping to finally meet his parents after weeks of being separated from them. Yet no familiar faces greeted him when he reached the exit of the hospital.

A clawing feeling rested in his stomach, but he couldn’t afford to cave in his fear. Hendery remained smiling until a middle-aged woman stood before him.

“Are you Hendery?” she asked.

“Yes. I am,” Hendery answered without looking at the woman. He was busy searching for his parents.

“Thank you so much for taking care of my niece. I’ll forever be grateful for your service. I’ll take him from here,” the woman announced.

“Wait—” Hendery turned around to see the woman taking the wheelchair from the nurses. “Where’s my Mom? My Dad?”

“Hendery, I’ll explain once we reach the house,” his apparent aunt said.

Hendery pursed his lips together. “Is Mom and Dad—”

“Be quiet,” the woman said softly.

Hendery had been quiet thereafter.

Hendery looked up to see the stars in the skies. How pretty they truly were. He won’t blame those who wishes upon these twinkling white lights. But he would feel utterly stupid himself to whisper his dreams to these scintillating lights that would die later on.

Supernova, scientists call it. It is the dying of a star. It is its return to atoms, particles, or whatever shit there is in the universe even before matter and time took its place.

Hendery let the liquor grate his throat as he took yet another swig from his bottle. Liquor and unwanted memories? Sign him up. Deep conversations with himself? He might be heartless in the eyes of many, but Hendery knew how to contemplate things. Too bad that he didn’t have anyone to share his thoughts with.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Oh, perhaps there was.

Aghast by the fact that there were empty bottles littered all around him, you gazed at Hendery.

It had been a week since he arrived at the church, telling everyone that he wanted to be a sacristan. So far, so good. He was a fast-learner albeit not showing any interests when it came to talking about the Bible. You still had your doubts in the pockets of your skirts. And seeing him drinking himself right behind the structures of the Church only intensified your wariness.

But the boy faced you with a smile. “Drinking,” he answered with a shrug.

“I know you are drinking,” you seethed. “But why are you drinking?”

It was past six p.m. already. You had completed your duties to the Church, and had also tucked in Kristan to the sacristan’s quarters just below Father Ben’s own chamber.

“To let off some steam.”

You stomped towards him with your chest puffing out of irritation. “First, you smoke on your first day. Then you drink on your first week. What on earth is wrong with you, Hendery?”

“Why don’t you sit with me for a while?”

You flew your arms to the air. “You are unbelievable.”

Hendery leaned back. “Aren’t you curious about me?”

“I am—” You closed your mouth. The words slipped out before you knew it.

His smile only widened . “Father Ben’s secured in his chamber. There is no need to fret.” He motioned his head down the space beside him. “Sit.”

They said drunk men speak the most truth. If you could squeeze anything out of him by joining him tonight, you would. With a heavy heart, you sat beside Hendery. The acrid smell of the alcohol whiffed your nose like a whiplash instantly.

“Now,” he began. “Ask me anything you want.”

“Where are y—”

Hendery pressed a finger to your lips. “In one condition: drink.”

You swatted his hand away with a frown. “I’m going.” But before you could stand up, Hendery held your wrist.

“I’m kidding,” the boy said with a chuckle.

There. That smile. That chuckle.

“Seriously.” You sat comfortably again. “Where are you from?”

“The city,” he answered. “I was born in the city. It’s all I’ve ever known ever since.”

“The pandemic hit the city hardest,” you commented. It was true, though. Because of their lifestyle and opulence, the pandemic moved way faster in the city compared to the villages.

“Yes, it did,” he whispered before downing the last gulp from his bottle. Hendery burped softly before tossing the empty bottle to the grass.

“One, two, three, four—” You scrunched your nose. “Five bottles. Now tell me, where did you get these?” you asked, pertaining to the liquor.

Hendery looked at you as if you beguile him to the fullest. “Convenience store. You have it here.”

You shot up a brow. “And you decided it best to consume them here? In the Church?”

“If it wasn’t obvious, yes.”

“I don’t have anything against you, smoking and drinking, but we shall set a good example to the children.”

Hendery quirked a brow. “Do you think smoking and drinking are bad examples?”

“Personally? No.” It was true. You didn’t think they were bad examples. It was always the person. But the church-goers were mostly children. They still don’t have the capacity to balance the right and the wrong for their age. Eventually, they would know. However, it was your duty to protect their innocent minds as best you could. “But there are children here. We must guide them.”

“They’ll learn to smoke later on.” He shrugged.

You hummed. “That, we aren’t sure of. Until then, let’s guide them first.”

“You’re truly devoted to being a sacristan, aren’t you?” Hendery asked, his head looking up to the skies.

You watched him in silence. His side profile was undeniably beautiful. You have never seen such soft features, to be honest. “Yes, I am.”

“Is that your dream?”

You tilted your head up to see the skies yourself. The stars were sprinkled like white sands against the darkness of the heavens. You smiled. “I have a lot of dreams, though. Like the stars above, they are somewhat implausible.”

It was his turn to look at you. If he was to be honest, Hendery found your face marvelous. He had never seen your likeness in the city. “Why do you say that?”

Perhaps someone would find it funny that you were opening yourself up to this boy. A boy you just met one week ago. However, there was a space in your heart that tells you it’s alright to tell Hendery all your dreams and worries, your aspirations and your doubts. Strangers couldn’t judge you.

You sigh. “I am… stuck here. I’ve never been anywhere else but here.”

“Not even in the city?”

You shake your head.

Hendery hums. “Well, it’s not really different. If not, it’s worse.” He chuckles. “Everyone lives as if it’s the end of the world tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?” You hugged your knees closer to your chests. “I’ve always wanted to experience a night like that.”

Hendery snorted. “It gets tiring. And it’s not really convenient when you don’t have the money.”

“For what? Can’t you enjoy without it?”

He strayed his eyes towards you. There was a spark of amusement dancing in his orbs. As if he found your question fascinating. “You can’t. What about drugs? Alcohol? Cigarettes? You can’t buy those without money.”

Oh. Of course. Hendery’s talking about parties. He looked like that kind of boy at first glance. Yet upon hearing his snorts and the dissent on his face, you have realized that perhaps both of you were yearning for something you weren’t been born to reach. You, the city. Him, the peace of the countryside.

“I wasn’t talking about those,” you said. Hendery fixed you with a curious look. “I’m talking about the city lights above the rooftops. The blare of the cars. The life outside this town.”

Hendery threw his head back, contorting the tattoo on the side of his neck, and laughed softly. “Of course.” His laughters ceased, like smoke slowly dissipating into the air. “But there is more to that.”

You stood up and smoothed out your skirt. “Perhaps.”

“Don’t you want more?”

With that, you looked down at him to flash him a small smile. “I’ve always wanted more. Perhaps there is more to the world than this little town. Perhaps I deserve to see it one day.”

Hendery didn’t break eye contact when he said the words, “There are millions of possibilities if you’d only dare.”

In which you didn’t have any answer for.

v. He descended to the dead. On the third day, He rose again…

Hendery waited. For hours, days, months, but he’d never seen his parents again.

The roof above him and the floors underneath his feet were a place he had never seen before. Wherever he looked, the unfamiliarity of everything would hit him like a tidal wave. From the couches to the television, to the doorframe and the windowsills, no one could deny that this house had seen better days.

Hendery sleeps in a cot of hard wood that leaves his back aching every morning. He eats in a kitchen with mice crawling in the corners and cockroaches flying in different directions. Nevertheless, there was food and somehow it was all that matters.

What happened to his Mom and Dad? Hendery was left with puzzles of an answer himself. After he survived the pandemic, he was met with yet another obstacle: orphanhood.

His aunt, Lilia, said that his father died. He died because of the pandemic, too. Hendery wept for days on end, refusing to believe what had befell his loving father. But as Lilia showed him the death certificate, Hendery’s world collapsed to shreds. That had been the time when he felt utterly alone, with no one to guide him and no one to tuck him in his sleep but the coldness of the world and the loneliness of the night.

His mother— no one knows what happened to her. They say she was in an asylum. They say what had betided her husband and son shattered her mind. Hendery tried to gather information. He tried to ask his aunt about his mother’s whereabouts. But whenever he does, he’s met with a slap on the cheek.

Aunt Lilia was a kind woman— she really was. But there had been times when she would talk to no one in the windows, or would cry with unknown reasons on the kitchen floors. Sometimes, she would sing lullabies to help Hendery sleep. Sometimes, she would whip him until he was crying and begging for help.

No one saved him.

One day, when Aunt Lilia was fast asleep and snoring on her couch, Hendery tiptoed to the door. It’s time for him to leave this godforsaken place. It’s time that he finds his mother. He was twelve years old.

According to the doctors themselves, you become immune to the pandemic once it has already hit you. Hendery braved the pandemic with a single mask and a little bottle of alcohol. And for months, he would live in the streets.

You sang your favorite song while walking. It was eight p.m., the road was almost empty, save for a few workers going home to your village. Fortunately, it didn’t rain tonight so there were no need for umbrellas and tiptoeing through the mud.

Hendery remained in the Church, to do what, you hadn’t bothered to ask. He offered to take you home, but you politely declined. After a series of convincing Hendery that you were going to be fine on your own, his shoulders finally slumped in approval. Your mother would collapse on the ground if she ever sees you riding Hendery’s motorbike.

You didn’t take him for a gentleman. However, there were still a lot of things you didn’t know about the boy. After your conversation with him on the grasses, perhaps he’s allowed you to slip through his visions, even just for a little bit.

As you neared towards your house, elders and children alike scattering around your street drew you in a halt. What is happening? A bad feeling rested in your stomach, but you sent a silent prayer that it wasn’t what you were thinking about.

Your mother was also one of the villagers out, so you sauntered straight towards her with your forehead drawn in a crease. “What’s happening, Mom?”

Her lips were pulled in a tight frown. “Bandits!” she seethed, as if the word had been the cruelest of all curses. “They took Loira’s money that she hid under the dresser.”

“How? Are bandits that skilled?”

As far as you could tell, Aunt Loira’s home was barred from ceiling to floor. She doesn’t go out of the house without locking all the possible holes that bandits might slip through.

“Evil knows no bounds,” your mother once again spat. “Yes, they are that skilled and heartless nowadays.”

The village chieftain as well as the other tanods circle Aunt Loira’s home with their lamps and flashlights. But you’d doubted that they would acquire evidence. Bandits had been pillaging your village as well as the neighboring ones for years. No one could ell what they look like. However, some elders think that the men from Kristan’s village were the ones responsible for the robbery.

“But Aunt Loira literally bars her whole house whenever she leaves for the market, right?”

Your mother made a strange noise through her nose. “She forgot to lock her back door when she left earlier.” Then she wrapped a hand around your wrist. “Come, the food’s getting colder.”

With one last look at Aunt Loira’s house, you let your mother lead you away from the mayhem.

You have been a victim of the bandits yourselves. Once, when you were ten years old. And it had been of your own fault. Father and Mother went to the market that day, and being the only daughter that you were, you had no one to play with whenever they were away. So you hopped out of bed, with your morning glory still stuck in your eyes and hair like the nest of birds, you hadn’t bothered to lock your house and flew straight to your childhood friends.

When you came back home, Mother was frowning at you. She would’ve had you whipped if not for your father, who kindly stood between you and your mother’s diabolical punishments. The money from the old refrigerator was stolen. It was the money for the renovation of your own room. Because of its looting, you still stare at the blotches of rainwater on your canopy every night until now, praying that it won’t collapse on you.

As you lay on your bed, silent contemplations ravaged your mind: the conversation with Hendery, the bandits, your unattainable dreams— are they though?

You have always dreamed of traveling the world. See the wonders of it for yourself. But how could you do that if you have been stuck here ever since? You have no idea what the city looks like. Mother said you were born in the city, but before the lockdown had taken place over the whole country, Mother went back to this village. Apparently, the isolated places were safer during the pandemic.

The pandemic has been over for five years now. Surely, there was more to life than this quiet town, right? You love this village with all your heart. However, you feel as if there were a lot more waiting for you out there. As Hendery said, there were millions of possibilities if you’d only dare.

Dare. What an audacious word. It made you feel dauntless just saying it.

You sat up and stared at the view outside your windows. What could truly happen if you dares the world? What could happen if you step your foot out of this town and dare?

vi. He ascended into Heaven, sits at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty…

“He’s not from here,” the other boys whispered.

Hendery continued ransacking the trash cans under the bridge. It had been exactly two weeks since he escaped Aunt Lilia’s hell house. And he wasn’t fairing well. The coins he stole from Aunt Lilia’s dresser were beginning to sound nothing in his pockets despite the fact that water was all his body consumed ever since escaping.

They say you could survive without food, but you wouldn’t survive without water. So he drank and drank until his stomach became bloated. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Hendery would buy at least one bottle of water with the stolen money and would consume it for two days. Sounds impossible for other people, but Hendery made it to two weeks of not fainting on the ground by that.

“He looks like he’s from here, though,” the other boy commented.

Hendery paid them no heed, for he found a bag of chips in the trash. It tasted like ashes in his mouth, but he couldn’t complain. He’d never complain.

Hendery fished for yet another chip when the boys snatched the bag away from him. They sneered. At long last, Hendery looked at them. And they were exactly like a mirror of him. Greasy hair, acrid smell, tattered clothes— and that something in their eyes: despair.

“Where are you from, boy?” One of them asked.

Boy? He didn’t look older than Hendery. However similar their situations might be, he had no time to linger around them. He needed to find his mother. So he turned his back and walked away. Not even a few steps ahead, someone grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. The boy smirked before landing a blow at his nose.

Hendery staggered backwards, aghast and angry at the same time. He touched his nose, and found it bleeding. Fueled by hunger and lost and a shit ton of problems, Hendery let his backpack fall to the ground and charged towards the boy.

They rolled off the ground. Hendery had him by the collar, and all the boy did was to choke. If no one would intrude, Hendery could surely kill him. But when they rolled once more and Hendery got on the boy’s stomach, he raised a fist only for someone to wrap a viselike grip around his wrist.

Hendery shot him a glare, but he answered him with a kind smile. That was when he noticed there were at least five of them there. Six, if Hendery was to count himself.

“There is no need for us to kill each other,” the boy said. “Stand up.”

Hesitant, Hendery wriggled free before standing on his feet. Once again, he turned on his heel to walk away.

“Why are you leaving?” the boy asked. “We have food here. And a shelter for the night.”

That sounded like a dream. Hendery had never heard of that for two weeks. Not even experienced any of that. Still, he didn’t turn.

“I promise we won’t harm you.”

He continued to walk away. If Hendery had come to a realization, it was that he could survive on his own. He’d experienced a lot of shit already being with people.

“We can help you!” the boy shouted.

With that, Hendery gripped the straps of his backpack tightly. He didn’t know if it was out of luck, or the boy really hit something that made his consciousness stir. If Hendery wanted to find his mother, it’d be better to have companions he could rely on.

He turned to face the boys again. “Really?” he shouted back.

They looked at one another before trodding the distance towards Hendery. The taller man stretched out his hand, with a smile he said, “I’m Kun.”

Hendery stared at the hand before taking it. “Hendery.”

“We can help you,” Kun said. “In one condition.”

You stared at your reflection on the mirror. The glass had a lot of brown blotches because of its age. But your reflection could still be seen.

Another day, another walk, another face to greet.

It’s Sunday already. The third Sunday of the month. You once believed that if people would pray day and night in the churches and in their houses, the bad things crawling in the world would somehow lessen. You were mistaken.

Bandits, bandits, bandits. They were everywhere these days. Mother even refused to go to the market in fear of being robbed. That left you with no choice but to go on your own. How? You exactly have no idea.

It was always best to visit the market at dawn, for the vegetables and meats were still fresh. You could still buy something after noon, but it won’t be as worth the money as they were in the gloaming. And the bandits had left yet another fiendish mess at Uncle Gino’s house. Your mother had been a cursing mess for hours since they stole a precious heirloom from Uncle’s treasure chest.

You sighed. Why is your village always prone to bandits? It wasn’t as if your chieftain never does anything for it, if not, he’s hands-on searching for the robbers. With no luck at all. Bandits disappeara like a bubble everytime they come close to capturing them.

At the church, everyone else was busy when you arrived. Save for one person; Hendery. He was leaning on the door frame of the sacristan’s quarter, watching everyone pass by him.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” you asked when you reached him.

“Ah, my dearest Y/N,” he sighed. “How I’ve missed you dearly.”

You deadpanned. “We met yesterday, Hendery.”

“Then? Am I not allowed to miss you?” He raised a brow.

You compressed your lips in a tight line. Three weeks since the boy arrived and in some way you have found a common ground together: talking about your dreams. Well, it’s you who’s always doing the talking. While he listened and snorted whenever he disagrees with you. It had been somewhat challenging, having someone disagree with you.

“Let’s go,” you sighed. “The mass is about to start.”

Thankfully, he was already donned in his white robes. No matter how holy the color might be, it failed to make him one. If not, it had only intensified the danger lurking within him.

Hendery yawned all throughout the mass, resulting in you nudging his ribs with your elbow. You couldn’t still comprehend his goal for joining the church. He seemed disinterested about everything. You have to find out his true intentions or else you will lose your mind thinking.

And it was not right to think about anything but the Lord while the mass is going on.

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven…” The churchgoers starts to sing. They clasped their hands as if in prayer while singing. Father Ben already practiced the right way in singing the litany. No one holds hand any longer.

You clasped your own hand. “Holy be Thy Name— what are you doing?” In bafflement and shock, you hissed louder than what you intended to.

Hendery took your right hand to clasped with his left. He didn’t answer you, though. He kept on looking straight at the altar. “Thy Kingdom Come, Thy will be done…” he started to sing along.

Flustered on where you stand, you roamed your eyes around you. Lucy and Rei were busy singing their hymns, oblivious to the way Hendery was breaking Father Ben’s rule.

You tried to wriggle free, but his grip was viselike. It’s disrupting the mass for you. With a heavy intake of breath, you let it go. “On Earth as it is in Heaven…” you sang along.

When he heard you, Hendery slackened his hold. You looked at him the same time he looked at you. And there he was, smiling like an idiot. “Give us this day, our daily bread…” he sang as he focused on the altar again.

You blinked, heart doing somersaults inside your chest. “And forgive us our trespasses…” you sang.

Everything had come at once. The echoes of the singing churchgoers, as well as Hendery’s.

“As we forgive those who trespass against us…”

The beating of your heart was wild. For what reasons? You have no idea. It was just there, beating stubbornly inside your ribcage.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…”

After the mass, and when all the churchgoers finished asking for Father Ben’s blessings and advice, he gathered all the sacristan inside the church.

You sat between Rei and Lucy, while Hendery sat behind you. He still has that infuriating smile on his face. Truth be told, and no matter how hard you tried, you also smiled a little yourself.

“I’ve heard the concerns of the people,” Father Ben announced. “For years, we have faced the bandits.”

You straightened up. In his own ways, Father Ben had been a huge help for the people. You won’t call him rich, but he’s always ready to lend money to those who fell to the bandits’ wrongdoings. You have seen his treasure chest once, and you believe you had been the only one allowed to see it.

“As much as I would like to financially aid everyone, my coffers couldn’t hold everything,” he added.

Lucy intruded, “It is alright Father. You’ve been helping us since you came here in the village. And for that we are thankful. But you need not bother yourself for our problems.”

Father Ben smiled. “I am the priest of this town. I need to preserve peace just like the chieftain. It’s been a pleasure to help with my own ways.”

You cleared your throat. “How can we help, Father?”

“Ah, yes.” Father Ben placed his hands behind him. “I need you to be vigilant. Not only for your own sakes, but for the well-being of others, too. Help in your own little ways. Be it helping the townspeople pick the strongest barriers there is in the market, they’d appreciate that. I trust you all. And don’t forget to pray for your village and the neighboring ones, too.” Father Ben makes a cross in the air. “May God bless us all.”

“Amen,” you said in unison.

Father Ben returned behind the altar to check up on Kristan, more likely. As for the little boy, he was comfortable, he said. His father also tried to visit him, but found it hard to face his son. Kristan said it’s fine, and that his father deserved time to think.

You stood up together with the other sacristan with a sigh. Bandits are such headaches. It gets tiring having to deal with them. It feels as if dealing with the wind. Invisible. And there was yet another headache you have to face: going to the market.

If you were lucky, you could reach the market at one p.m.. But vehicles during this time of the day were rare. Not to mention the village was isolated.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Hendery asked as he stood in front of you.

You sighed a pensive one. He’s your third headache of the day. “Please, Hendery. I’m thinking.” You started to walk away, but he followed beside you.

“Perhaps I can help.”

You drew in a halt. Mayhaps it was a blessing in disguise— him. Hendery has a motorbike. You’d get there and come back on time if you would ride with him. But courage was a luxury you couldn’t afford, so you shun the thoughts.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

Your tongue ached to say the words. And your body yearned to feel the wind on your face, too. It was not everyday that a chance opens up like this in front of you. Dare.

You straightened your shoulders. “Can you take me to the market?” The market isn’t as far as the city. But going in there is a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity you couldn’t afford to miss. It was a step, no matter how small.

Hendery raised a brow. “What business do you have in the market?”

You played with your lower lip with your teeth. A fleet of a moment, and a moment you had surely missed: the way Hendery looked at your lips when you rolled it between your teeth. “Well,” you said, “I need to buy some food. And mother wouldn’t leave the house in fear of bandits robbing us.”

“Understandable,” he said. “But I have a condition to make.”

“Forget it—”

“Kidding.” Then he laughed. “You are one hell of a heartless woman, do you know that?”

A ghost of a smile painted your lips. “It is not right to say ‘hell’ inside the church. And why do you say that?”

“What about my wage?”

You blinked. “Oh, I— I didn’t bring any extra cash—”

Hendery placed his hand on the top of your head. “I’m just kidding.” Then he pivoted on his heel, his keys dangling between his fingers.

You followed.

“I thought you didn’t have a helmet.” You shot up a brow to your forehead upon seeing one helmet resting on his accelerator.

Hendery shrugged. “It’s for you.”

And there it wasagain, the wild beating of your heart. As if it was an animal begging to be unleashed to the world. “That’s… kind of you.” That had been the only thing you were able to say. “But how did you know to bring one?”

He disentangled the helmet from the accelerator. “Because I am always waiting for you.”

“For me? What do you mean?”

“I’m always waiting for you to ask me to take you to the city.”

Without giving you any time to comprehend his words and form coherent answers, Hendery fixed the helmet to your head. But before he could fully lock it under your chin, you stopped his hands.

“I think I’ll prefer to feel the wind.”

Hendery smiled, but continued to lock the helmet nevertheless. “Not today. I drive relatively fast, and the road to the market’s pretty bumpy. You won’t enjoy it.”

“I appreciate you, bringing this, but—”

He tapped the head of the helmet. “No buts.”

Hendery climbed his motorbike, then nudged his head to invite you to hop in. Just like the last time, you pulled up your skits and climb behind him. He revved the engine and you rode together.

The feel of riding behind him had become a reflex inside your body. A peaceful one, despite the blare of his engine and the harsh slap of the wind on your face.

“Hold on,” he reminded you before he accelerated the engine yet again.

You wrapped your arms around his torso. This was the second time you rode a motorbike, but the feeling compared to last time has drastically changed. There was no fear now. Only fascination and curiosity of what lies behind everything you have ever known.

If you’d only dare.

An hour before the clock strikes two, you have finally reached the buzz of the market.

When the pandemic ended, the livelihood didn’t go back automatically to normal. There were millions of protocols and reminders from the government. Because the pandemic didn’t really disappear like a bubble in the air. It was there, still. But after the years of its ravaging, the human body slowly adapted to its hazards.

It became just like the flu. More dangerous, yes. But less hazardous now.

“Wait for me here,” you said to Hendery.

“I’ll come with you.”

You stopped. “Are you sure? It’s quite chaotic inside. And… city boys are city boys.”

A playful laugh resonated from him. “I’ve been here before, sacristan. I’ll be fine.”

When he said that he’d be fine, it was true. Hendery jumped from vendor to vendor to help you buy all your needs. Be it meat, poultry, vegetables, or fruits. Father’s coming home in two days after weeks of being away, so Mother wants to cook something special for him. And you, too.

“Is this all?” he asked when you finished. Hendery insisted on carrying everything, which you politely declined. But he didn’t stop bugging you about it until you gave up and handed him everything.

“I need to buy onions over there, across the street. Could you hold this for me? I’ll be quick.”

Hendery nodded. You fished for your wallet inside your pocket. Halfway across the street, someone bumped into you.

“I… I’m sorry,” you said. But the man ignored you as he continued to walk away.

Five steps ahead, you noticed something. Your wallet was stolen. Before you could shout, Hendery was running for the boy already. Shocked and confused, you did the first thing that occured to your mind; run for them.

The wallet didn’t have much money, but it was given by your mother on your birthday. And you have been utterly sentimental when it comes to gifts. The boy can take the money, but he needs to give back your wallet.

Hendery ran pretty fast that you almost lost him in the maze of people and stalls alike. He turned left. You pulled up your heavy skirts and follow him. When you finally reached the alleyway he’s run off to, you have found out that it was a dead end.

Hendery was sitting on the boy’s stomach, and he had him by the throat. Few steps away from them, your wallet lays on the ground. You gulped and sauntered up to the two boys.

“What the fuck are you doing, Hendery?”

He knew Hendery? How come?

“Dude, you need to let me g—”

Hendery punched him straight. You gasped. The boy’s eyes rolled before his head collapsed to the ground. And he was unconscious.

Hendery stood up and picked your wallet. He didn’t look at you when he handed it back. “Let’s go home,” he says.

You stared at the boy with your brows narrowing. Is he a bandit? How did he know Hendery? Gripping the wallet tightly, you pivoted on your heels and walked away.

Something wasn’t right.

vii. From thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead...

“I say I beat the shit out of him right now,” Xiaojun seethed upon seeing Hendery enter the room.

Kun, while sitting on the table, raised a hand to stop the other boy from attacking Hendery. He had always been like that; the middle man. Yet Hendery could sense the disappointment as well as the inquisition in the air. This is going to be one hell of a night.

“Sit,” Kun announced as he stretched out his hand to the empty chair on his left side.

Xiaojun, Hendery’s comrade, had his fist clenched while sitting on the window sill. The punch he landed on his face has left a contusion to the bone right below his eyes. Hendery didn’t feel sorry. Not even a little bit.

Kun’s ‘office’ had been stripped off any furniture saved for a table and two chairs. There was only one light hanging from the ceiling. It casted off an orange hue to everything it touches.

If Hendery spends so much as an hour here, he would lose his mind. However, Kun has managed to make this empty place his abode whenever he plans out another robbery or crime. It was comparatively fitting, if he was to be honest.

When Hendery had made himself comfortable on his seat, Kun stood up. “I’ve heard entertaining news today.” He smiled. It would come off as a kind one if you were looking in the surface, but Hendery knew the depths of the edges of that smile.

Nevertheless, Hendery hasn’t been the one to be scared of anything. “Is it about me…” Hendery strays his eyes towards Xiaojun. “Punching someone?” The smile he casted after had completely set his comrade’s blood on fire.

Xiaojun jumped, attempting to attack Hendery once more. Kun gripped his arm in a firm hold. Xiaojun slouched back on the other chair, panting heavily.

“You’re fucking dead to me, Wong,” he spat.

Hendery leaned closer. “Bring it on.”

“Shut the fuck up, you both,” Kun sighed while massaging his temples. “Or just go ahead and get your guns, shoot each other in the head and be done with it.”

Tempting was the offer, but Hendery took it as a warning. However, it had been pretty effective. Hendery leaned back to his chair, hands dangling on his sides. “What’s the matter?”

Kun chuckleed. “You.” He licked his lips while pointing his finger at Hendery. “You’re really something else, aren’t you?”

“Well—” Hendery stumbleed and fell from the chair. That, he hadn’t seen coming. Kun had always been strong when it comes to boxing someone’s ears. Before Hendery could stand up, he spat blood on the cold floor.

Hendery wipeed his mouth with the back of his hand. It was his turn to chuckle. “I really am.”

Kun wrapped his hand around Hendery’s collar, then he slammed his back against the wall. Sight obscured because of of the hair falling down his eyelids, Hendery felt the blood flowing from the side of his mouth to his chin.

“Why did you do it?” Kun asked.

“What did I—” Hendery fell to the ground as his face met Kun’s fist. His vision blurs, causing him to blink languidly. Perhaps he heard Xiaojun’s laughters, or his sniggers, he wasn’t sure.

Hendery felt like a sack of cotton as Kun hurled him up with his back collar. His back was against the wall again. Now, he feels two warm liquid flowing from the sides of his mouth.

“Why did you do it?”

His mouth twisted in a leer. “None of your business.”

Hendery’s stomach caved in as Kun landed a punch to his guts. Air left his lungs for a moment, and he found it extremely hard to breathe. Hendery had always hated being punched in the stomach.

As he tried to catch his breath, he watched as Kun’s feet started to pace the space in front of him. Hendery continues to blink. Then Kun crouched.

“Who is she?”

She. Hendery stared at Kun. The years of them together flashed in his eyes like a projector in a wide white screen: the day he met his gang of bandits, his first time holding a gun, robbing a store, and shooting someone plays right in his eyes like a movie on repeat.

“None of you fuckers are going anywhere near her,” he stated in a voice so cold even the demon stared back at him in horror.

Kun was silent for a moment. Eyes hard staring at Hendery. Then he asked, “What the fuck is happening to you?”

Hendery realized that he had no answer to the question. But the thought of you, falling in danger feels like rotten food in his stomach. It made him want to retch.

Nobody had seen it coming, that was for sure. This feeling inside him— this wriggling feeling whenever he was with you. Whenever you smile at him. Whenever you tell him your dreams.

Hendery stood up and looked straight at Kun and then at Xiaojun. “Don’t fucking dare,” he warned before he pivoted on his heel.

Two steps away, Kun stated, “I’ll let you swim in your foolishness but don’t fuck this up, Hen. Remember why I sent you to the church.”

Hendery waved his hand. “I remember.”

He’d gone straight to his own room and tended for his own wound. Hendery sat on his bed, meditating over his actions earlier.

For years he had been one of Kun’s best bandit. Ever since he met him under the bridge. Xiaojun landed his fist straight to his nose that day, too. And that had been all Hendery had known. To fight, to survive. Even if it means licking the edge of the knife.

The time Kun handed him a gun, Hendery knew his hands trembled. For that he missed his first aim. But as the days went by that all he’d ever held was a bullet, a magazine, and a gun, Hendery became as sharp as a pointed knife when it came to mowing down.

He stared at his calloused hand. The rough palms stares back at him, as if in insult. He’s lost count of the stores he’s robbed. Of the houses he’d stolen from. Of the individuals he pointed the barrel of the gun at. Is this what he has been born to do?

All he ever wanted was to meet his mother again. To hold that hateful woman in his arms. To tell her that her son survived and there has been an aching hole inside him ever since she disappeared without a trace.

Years of searching for nothing, Hendery thought he’s already turned every stone in this country upside down searching for his lost mother. And it all went in vain.

Hendery doesn’t know who to blame: the pandemic, his mother, or his own self?

You chewed on your bottom lip while walking the long road towards your home. The scene from the market, and the robbery that had taken place refused to leave your mind. You sigh, since those weren’t the only things trying to penetrate your brain. Hendery refused to leave, too.

Perhaps you should be thankful that he somewhat saved your money earlier. Bandits are heartless. The boy could’ve been carrying a pocket knife and Hendery would’ve been in grave danger. Yet he braved the possible risks and ran for the boy nonetheless. Worries aside, you cannot help but feel perturbed of the way the bandit called Hendery’s name.

Are they related? If yes, how?

Before entering your house, you straightened your back. Mother senses even a slip of your composure, and she’d never let you go unless you tell her what’s wrong.

You raised your fist to knock, then a familiar face greeted you when the door swung open suddenly. The bags you have been holding fell as you squealed and jumped to hug your father. “Father!” you exclaim.

He laughed as he wraps his arms around you. “My baby girl,” he chuckled.

“Dad!” you retorted, but laughed nonetheless. There is time for that endearment. “When did you arrive?” you asked as both of you pulled away.

“Earlier,” he saied as he muffled your hair. “I didn’t tell your mom, either.” As he said that, Mother occured from the kitchen with a spatula in hand.

“Time for dinner,” she announced with a smile.

Ah, that rare smile from her lips. Father was the only living thing who could pull up the edges of her mouth like that. It was refreshing to behold.

Father picked up the bags from the ground. “You carried all these by yourself?” he asked.

You automatically flustered. The image of Hendery carrying all you have bought earlier flashing back in your head without permission. “Y… yeah.”

It wasn’t as if they are illiberal when it comes to boys. But it was a topic you haven’t discussed with any of them yet.

“Hm, we really ought to buy a motorcycle, don’t you think?”

You turned to face him. “It would be convenie—”

“Who would drive? Me?” Mother interrupted. “Our daughter?”

Father placed the bags onto the kitchen counter. “Yes. Y/N is a fast-learner. She could defini—”

“I’m sorry but it is a no.” Mother smiled again, but there was an edge to it. “It is inappropriate for a lady to drive—”

“Who says?” you groaned. “It’s 2040, Mother.”

Mother crossed her arms over her chests. “And where would you go once you learn how to drive?”

You pursed your lips. Saying the word would only extend the argument. But it needs to be heard. “Perhaps then I could go to the city—”

“What?!” she exclaimed.

“... and study,” you finished.

Father cleared his throat. “That’s a good idea, actually.” He turned his head towards Mother. “Don’t you think?”

Mother made out an incredulous noise from her nose. “No, I don’t think so. The city is still contaminated with the virus and hedonism. There is no way I’m letting you—”

“Develop on my own?” you asked.

It had always been an argument: your dreams. And Mother always says no to every step you’d attempt to achieve them. You loved her dearly. But sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed of her decisions when it comes to your life. You were an adult— a capable adult. And yet you felt as if someone had clipped your wings before you could fly. It hurts to know that that someone was your own mother.

“Y/N!” she hissed, her eyebrows knitted together.

Father held up his hands. “There is no need for us to raise our voices. We can discuss this in peace,” he said.

But Mother wouldn’t back down. “There would be no discussion. I won’t allow it.” Then she turned on her back to finish preparing the food.

You looked down at the floor, eyes suddenly breaming with tears. This conversation had never failed to put you to misery.

“Cheer up,” Father whispered. “We’ll find a way.”

No. You will.

The next day, you couldn’t help but frown upon your reflection in the mirror. Same robes, same skirts, same hairstyle. There was nothing new.

You loved being a sacristan. You have devoted yourself in serving God and His Son, Jesus Christ. You have never missed a mass. It was a part of your life that won’t ever disappear. But duty and dream aren’t the same thing.

You have your duty to God, that you diligently and wholeheartedly accomplished for the last few years. But there was your dream, hanging like a blank canvas on the wall of your bedroom.

The village was your serenity. But the city holds everything that you have ever wanted.

Dare.

You harshly brushed your hair and fix your robe. The bones under your skin are unstoppable. You only have to dare. So with a deep intake of breath, you departed your bedroom, kissed both your parents’ cheek, and ran towards the Church. Where everything was going to happen.

Seeing Hendery casually sipping on his cigarette while leaning on the tree has put your rushing feet in a halt.

This boy. Always so alluring, always so mysterious, always so stubborn.

Hendery remained staring at the ground when you sauntered up to him. It would feel as if you were back on the day you first met him. When he exuded such obscurity that you found him irritatingly blurry yet interesting.

What happened yesterday still lingers in the back of your mind. Perhaps you should talk to him about it to quench your interest. “Hey,” you greeted.

When he looked up, you covered your mouth with your hands in utter stupefaction. “What happened to you?!” you blurted out.

There were purple patches on the bone underneath his right eye and another on the side of his lips. Did the bandit get back to him yesterday? The thought made your stomach lurched.

“You look devastated,” Hendery commented.

You blinked. It was him who looked like an absolute wreck right now. How could he tell you that? “No. You are.”

“You are.” Hendery toucheed your chin to lift up your face. You let him. “See? It’s missing,” he said while staring at you.

His stare made you nervous. But you couldn’t look away. “What is?”

Hendery let his hand fall before he answers, “The fire in your eyes.”

The fire in your eyes. For the second time, you blink at him. You were a lover of poetry. Hearing this boy talk as if he had the verses of the universe in his tongue perhaps set your heart in a panic.

Sad eyes, bad guys, and a mouthful of verselet. You once thought someone like him won’t sweep you on your feet. Knowing that you were mistaken has left a bittersweet taste in your tongue. It was, indeed, beautiful to feel this way. This feeling you have for Hendery was a flower beginning to turn into a fruit. So fragile, yet so heavenly.

Would it be ready for the plucking?

You gulped. “Did the bandit get back to you yesterday?”

“This is nothing,” he said. “I found myself in a brawl yesternight. Nothing for you to worry about.”

You raised a brow. “I am not worried.”

That was his cue to laugh before puffing his cigarette again. “One hell of a heartless woman.”

“I am not heartless.”

Hendery looked affronted. “Really? Prove it, then.”

“Prove it?” You let out an incredulous sound. Then you crossed your arms over your chests. “How?”

“Admire me back.” He tossed his cigarette bud away. “Simple as that.”

Admire me back. You gaped at him, unable to form lucid words. What was that? Did he really ask you to admire him… back? “Is that…” you paused, “Is that a confession?”

Hendery placed the tip of his pointer finger against your forehead. Then he pushed lightly. However, he didn’t answer, he only walked past you. “You’re pretty unique,” he added. “I like your fire.”

“Wait!”

You ran for him. You have no idea what it was, but talking to Hendery has stirred the emotion you once felt earlier before leaving the house. The extreme drive to do something you haven’t done before and prove your mother that you are worthy of being left alone with your decisions.

Hendery turned to you. “What? Have you reciprocated my feelings alr—”

“Take me to the city,” you panted.

His smile grew wider. And the stars in his eyes shone, rivaling the blare of the sunlight above. “That’s better.”

viii. And His Kingdom would have no end…

A month ago, you would never have imagined yourself going out of the village. But here you wee, riding with a boy you only met four weeks ago, in his black and shiny motorcycle that was like a much safer version of a Harley. However, it didn’t lessen the agitation in your heart.

After years since you were born, this would be your first time to see the world beyond your village. You didn’t expect it to be beautiful. Since a global pandemic has swept through the continents twenty years ago. But you could say it was something you didn’t expect to behold either.

Copse of trees became a blur of brown and green as Hendery picks up the pace. There was nothing to see but the unending stretch of tall grasses and trees and the isolated road ahead. There weren’t even streetlights to guide you back later.

The wind slapped your face, with it the grimy feeling of running at 60 kilometers per/hour, and sniffing Hendery’s virile scent.

Hendery sure drives like the road was his and he’s alone in the world.

For this adventure, you refused to wear any helmet at all. It took minutes of disagreement, but Hendery had come in peace with it. If this was the first time you were riding towards the city— a place as strange to you as anything in the world— you wanted to caress it with your whole body. After all, this was an event more special than your own birthday.

As Hendery revved the engine faster, your grip on his torso tightened. Nonetheless, you bite your tongue to stop the squeal that was threatening to come out of your mouth. You will brave this ride. And there was nothing that would stop you from relishing this feeling.

All your trust and all your hopes of a safe travel were in Hendery’s hands today. And if you were to be honest, a sliver of doubt still flows in your veins. It has to be normal for a village girl to feel this way. Hendery could be infuriating at times, and he sure has this mysterious secret in his eyes, but he’s never done you anything hideous. Or perhaps you were only a naive girl, too blinded by ambitions and the overflowing courage in your heart, that you walked right into the devil’s trap.

You sent a silent prayer to God to guide you safely despite breaking the rules of your parents.

Slowly, the copse of trees became an expanse of water. Then you were traveling on a bridge, with a river below you. Busses, cars, and motorcycles alike run along the bridge, adding much to your adrenaline. You couldn’t remember the last time you have seen a bus. Perhaps it was when the students from the city took a trip to your village.

You turned your head to see the water. Few birds were flying as well as diving into the water to catch some fish. The wind coming from it was briny and sticky. But you loved it nonetheless.

Then the tall buildings loomed ahead, at the edge of the bridge. You cannot help but gape at it. How isolated have you become to marvel at tall buildings? Embarrassed as you were, you didn’t let it douse out your excitement.

Hendery slowed down as you meet the highway. On the pavements there walked the passersby. Some were hurrying, some were jogging with their dogs. Inside the coffee shops were lovers laughing while sipping on their drinks.

Despite the pandemic, the city felt alive. It thrummed with an energy you haven’t experienced before. It made you feel dizzy with excitement.

“It’s two p.m.,” Hendery stated before parking his motorcycle in a dead alley.

You hopped off. “Won’t you get in trouble parking here?” you asked, roaming your eyes around the two buildings covering the alleyway. In the village, there would be no problem parking your car wherever. But as far as you were concerned, city policies were different.

Hendery snickered. “Nobody would dare.”

By that, you raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Nevermind.” Then he faced you with a smile. “Where do you wanna go?”

You deadpanned. “I’m not from here. You’re supposed to show me around.”

He feigned laughters. “Oh yes, I almost forgot. But—” Hendery raised his pointer finger as if in warning. “May I warn you that I’m not a ferris wheel type of guy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m adrenaline embodiment.” Then he grabbed your shoulder softly and guided you towards the buzz of people.

As you walked with Hendery on the side streets, you looked up to the sky. It was gray but bright nonetheless. The type of weather wherein you wouldn’t know if it would rain or the clouds were only keeping the sun away.

Different honk of cars resonated everywhere, with the giggles of students as they walk home. There were teenagers sitting on the narrow alleyway, their clothes black and their pants ripped. You regarded them with narrowed brows. Then the two teenagers kissed.

“Oh,” you gasped as you cover your eyes. It felt private, albeit the fact that they were kissing in a public place.

Hendery chuckled. “That’s like, level 0.1 of the things that happens there.”

Before you could ask him what did he mean for the nth time that day, Hendery held your hand and tugged you. “See that sign up there?”

He stood extremely close to yours. Strands of his hair flew towards the sides of your face. You gulped before following his pointer finger with your eyes. He was pointing at the sign across the street. It was surrounded by different types of people, but students dominated the whole entrance. Above their heads was a huge sign board that says ‘Wonderland’.

“Yeah.” You nodded your head. “What is it about?”

“It’s a circus,” Hendery said as he turned to look at your face, “Last to arrive pays for the tickets. Deal?”

“Wha— wait! That’s not fair!” you shouted when he bolts away.

Hendery took a look at you while laughing. His hair obscuring his eyes. “Run!”

You exhaled sharply before gathering your skirts and running towards him. As your shoulders slammed to different bodies, you shout apologies on your wake. If this was a normal day, you would have to stopped and say your apologies with a bow. But this wasn’t a normal day. And Hendery didn’t even bother to stop even if he had to push students out of his way.

However, he drew in a halt as a little girl suddenly appears from a boutique. Hendery was still ahead of you by five steps, but because of the circumstances, you tapped his shoulder and run past him.

At last, it was time for you to cross the streets. The streetlight says red. You muttered, “Green, green, gree—”

“Didn’t take you for a… runner,” Hendery breathed with his hands on the sides of his waists as he stood beside you.

You ignored him. Then the lights went green. You stormed away from him, dodging the elders crossing the street. Hendery laughed behind you. And he was extremely close.

With one last force of a leg, you jumped the one meter distance from the pavement to the entrance line of the circus. “I won!” you shouted in triumph.

Hendery shook his head, disbelief visible in his face. “This is unbelievable,” he muttered.

“A ticket for two,” you taunted, displaying two fingers in front of him. “The deal is the deal.”

Hendery sighed and fished for his pocket. Perspiration trickled down your back as you follow Hendery towards the ticket booth. After he received the tickets, he handed you his kerchief. “For your sweat.”

You immediately raised your hands. “Oh, no! It’s okay!”

Hendery tilted his head to the side. “You are sweltering like a waterfall. Here, let me,” he said before pulling you and patting the kerchief to your forehead.

You looked away blinking, unable to form words as you felt the fabric pressing softly on your skin. As if you were a thin, breakable glass he feared that might break if he wasn’t careful. “Thanks,” you whispered when Hendery finally folded back the kerchief to his back pockets.

Both of you turned and faced the entrance of the circus.

The door opened, revealing two little person wearing brightly colored jumpers. Their faces were made up to copy the image of a clown. Both of their heads look up, then they scrunched their noses, clearly irritated of a customer.

“Come in,” they blabbered in unison.

You looked at Hendery. He had that same smile on his face when he walked through the turnstile.

The hallway that displayed itself in front of you were made of corrugated roof ceiling and walls. You felt as if you were in a box.

Different posters of performers adorned the corrugated roof walls. There is the two little person, on their jumpsuits, balancing themselves on a large ball. At your right side, there is the image of a mermaid. Of course, circus such as this one would have a fake mermaid. Then there is an image of a man playing with fire.

You cannot help but stare in awe. You have a knowledge of circuses since you have read books and watched movies to have a distinct image of it in your mind. However, you haven’t really experienced one.

Hendery walked beside you, not bothering to see the posters plastered on the wall. That gave you a hint that maybe he has been in Wonderland already. He was born here in the city after all.

“How many times have you been here?” you decided to ask, voice echoing through the hallway.

“Too many times to count.”

The two little person opened another door. You gaped in astonishment as you take in the picture of the whole circus. Lambent lights hung in different trees, giving the whole area a soft glow.

There wre families resting under the trees and students hopping to different food carts to another. It was a whole new world in the middle of the city. And it was so lively that you feel the energy thrumming in your veins.

Hendery stared. Not at the circus, but at you. Pure amazement adorned your face. And perhaps your eyes twinkled brighter than the lights, too. Hendery couldn’t help but smile. It was somewhat fulfilling taking in your expression. He took you for a woman difficult to impress. Yet he was mistaken. There was that glow in you that he hasn’t seen before in anyone else’s eyes.

And for the first time in twenty years, Hendery has seen the rainbow he was waiting for. It wasn’t in the end of the pandemic. It’s in you.

When you craned your neck to look at him, Hendery blinked and looked away, his heart thudding madly inside his chest.

He couldn’t believe it. This feeling. For someone as sinful as him, Hendery had never expected to feel this type of… fondness.

“I thought you weren’t a ‘ferris wheel’ guy?” You lifted a brow while quoting the air.

The ferris wheel was located at the very corner of the circus’ vicinity. As if on cue, Hendery’s childhood memories weaved their way back to his mind. The laughters of his father and his own giggles whenever they would ride the said ferris wheel.

After seconds of being taciturn, Hendery answered, “I’m not.”

“Really?” you teased. “You needn’t deny it!”

Hendery placed a hand above your head and ruffled your hair. “Come, I’ll show you around.” Then he stretched his hand to you.

Clearly flustered, you stared at his outstretched hand for a minute. You wrapped your hand with his. Taking his hand felt as if a manifold of experiences in itself, but it was thrilling nonetheless.

Both of you entered the tent where the mermaid perfoms. Of course, she was fake. But the craftmanship of her tail almost made you doubt your own eyes. It was simply marvelous.

Next that you visited was the fire-breathing man. The thing was, he was extremely talented and… cute. However, when you mentioned it to Hendery, his amazement deterred and he pulled you out of the tent.

Now you stood in front of a food cart, trying to pick between corndog or fries. You chose fries with lemon iced-tea. Hendery preferred the former.

“We need to go home,” you said while looking up at the sky. There wasn’t any brightness in the heavens any more, only darkness. The stars were hidden in the clouds, which give an ominous sign that it might rain.

And you couldn’t afford to rain. Your mother would go nuts. But then you thought how you have already defied her. Might as well enjoy the night, right? You heaved a sigh. No. You have to go home.

“Yes,” Hendery sighed. He was looking at the heavens, too.

Contemplative of the adventure you have experienced today, you looked at Hendery. Four weeks ago, you have resented his presence in the church because of your own preconceptions. But if this boy beside you didn’t arrive, you wouldn’t have the courage to defy your mother and finally go to the city.

In spite of everything, the saying proves true— that someone could go rebellious if ensnared for a long time. Yes, it was not pleasant to flout parents, but this freedom… you almost felt like a bird with its wings spread wider.

Hendery shifted, then he turned to face you. “Just one last destination.” He spoke the word with a certain anticipation. How could you deny him the chance?

Then you departed the circus.

“Is this safe?” you asked Hendery while you climbed the stairs of an unknown building near the alleyway where he parked his motorcycle.

“Yeah,” Hendery hummed. “This seems empty but trust me, this could be a party place.”

When he said that, you noticed the littered cigarettes in the corners. There were candy wrappers… and some rubber that you had no name for.

“This place is creepy,” you announce when you reach the last set of stairs.

Hendery’s laugh echoed through the empty place. “It’s not,” he said before pushing open a door that leads somewhere.

“A rooftop,” you stated as a-matter-of-factly. Your boots made a clocking noise against the pavement as you walk towards the railings. You stared in awe as different lights from the stores below twinkled like fireflies.

The darkness intensified the colors of everything. The city wasn’t perfect, but was beautiful at this time of the day. With the wind softly nuzzling your face, you breathed a sigh of relief at everything.

“This is beautiful,” you said in utter adoration.

Hendery leaned and grabbed the railings. His floppy hair dancing with the wind, once again falling down his eyelids. “It is,” he breathed.

At the horizon, some far away land stared at you, probably wondering of your unfamiliar face, too. There were mountains and there were also lights flickering from it. The sky was a darker shade of magenta turning black. It’s a pity that there were no stars to grace the heavens.

“Thank you, Hendery,” you whispered.

Hendery looked at you, a smile adorning his lips. “For you.”

Your shoulders brushed against each other, sending your heart into a marathon again. Then you sighed a heartful one. “I want to live here.”

“Really? This was only a façade, though. Bad things crawls out in this city.”

Bad things. There were bad things all around the world, though. “In the village, too,” you muttered, “Bandits. Everywhere.”

“Yeah. Bandits,” he repeated with the same contemptuous voice.

“What do you like most about this city?” you decided to ask. He’s from here. And he won’t stay if he doesn’t find anything beautiful here, right?

Hendery’s eyes were looking at the horizon while he answered, “My…” Then you notice the curvature of his throat as he gulped. “The memories of my family.”

Something inside you insisted to ask him further. So you opened your mouth to speak. “Where are they?”

Hendery displayed a painful smile before a chuckle resonated through him. “My dad died because of the pandemic, and my mom… she’s missing.”

You tasted something bitter in your mouth by the revelation. You shouldn’t have asked. Then you placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” The boy tried to smile when he looked at you. But an old pain still sparked in his eyes.

People tend to say it’s okay even when it’s not. You supposed it’s one of the ways for them to cope. Instead of forcing Hendery, you tried to smile for him, too.

“And your mother.” You cleared your throat. “Just ask me if you need any help.”

“Thank yo—” Hendery’s words were interrupted by the large pitter patters of the rain.

You gasped and shielded your head. Hendery does the same. Then the both of you run towards the building. The ravaging of the rainfall could be heard against the ceilings. It was the sound that pierces the ears. And you were afraid that it’s not going to stop any sooner.

“We have to go home,” you said while biting your nail.

“We can’t,” Hendery pronounced with a shrug.

You sighed deeply, forcing your knees to stand still. “My mother would kill me.”

Even though there was absolute dread to the words, you couldn’t feel any regret. You would’ve done it all over again if given the chance.

“You can call her,” Hendery suggested. “There’s a payphone down the next block.”

She would go absolutely unhinged once she knew about your whereabouts. But you have to at least tell her. Or lie about it. There was no other choice.

You mentally memorized your mother’s cellphone number. She has one, to contact father whenever he’s away. But she barely uses it.

“Let’s go,” you said.

While descending the stairs of the abandoned building, you thought about ways on how to dodge your mother’s possible questions. Lying has left a burning sensation in your chests. But it was the only way. And if it would somehow save you from the doom of being whip to shreds, you’d gladly do it.

Hendery offers you his leather jacket to use as an umbrella. You would have refused, but the rain was falling heavily. You cover your head before running.

When you reached the payphone, Hendery was drenched from head to toe. Due to some miracle that you couldn’t describe yourself, your corsage remained dry.

You delved for a coin inside your pockets and slid it with shaky fingers. Trying to squeeze himself inside the payphone, Hendery stoof mere inches away from you. Your chests too close to each other. Flustered, you focused on the phone still ringing against your ear instead of your bodies’ proximity.

You heard the click of the phone from the other line then the sound of your mother’s voice. “Hello?” she answered.

Running a damp hand through your hair, you gulped and said, “Mom, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N?” You could see her eyebrow raising in your mind. And that made you even more agitated. Mother wasn’t easily convinced. You would need to slid through a needle’s hole if you ever wish to successfully lie to her.

“Yes, Mom. I’m here— at—” You bit your thumbnail as you realize that you cannot truly deceive her.

“Where are you?” she asked, “Why is it so loud in there?”

Shoot. The harsh sound of the rain was, of course, loud. And it probably wasn’t raining that hard to the village or not at all. You needed to think.

“Mom— I— I have an errand to run for Father Ben,” you lied. “And… well… I am in the market. And—” You take a deep breath. “I don’t think I would be able to come home tonight—”

“What?” she said with a voice louder than the rain. “What errand? And why aren’t you coming home?”

“Mother, it’s strictly confidential!” You added just enough panic to your voice to make your deceit more convincing. “And Father Ben told me not to tell anyone—”

“Well, I am your mother so I deserve—”

“Hello? Mother? Mom? I can’t hear you!”

“Y/N—”

“Alright, Mother. I’ll take care! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You dropped the phone immediately, not letting your mother say a word any more. Drawing ragged breaths, you let your back rest on the cold glass encasing the payphone. Then a laughter seized your attention. It was Hendery.

Baffled, you raised a brow. “What’s funny?” you asked, but you had a feeling that you know the answer to your own question. He found it amusing, your panicked conversation with your mother.

Hendery tried to shrug despite his laughter. “I just find it amusing,” he says as his glee receded. You glared at him, but the boy only pointed his finger right in front of your nose. “Now, quit being so strung up.”

“I am not,” your affronted reply. But he was right, your stomach was still tied in knots after the conversation. It was as if your mother would appear in front of you out of nowhere.

You looked at your surroundings. The buildings still towers over you. The road was drenched with rainwater and it didn’t seem to stop any time soon.

“Where do we sleep?” you asked Hendery, embarassed of the realization that you have no idea about the city and where you were supposed to sleep now that you were stuck in an unfamiliar place.

“‘We’?” he teased, “That sounds nice—”

“Hendery!” You hit his arm lightly, eliciting yet another fits of laughter from him.

“I know some place,” he said, “Don’t worry.”

You shrugged. “Well, aside from the fact that I wasn’t from here... and it’s my first time venturing to the city— yeah,” you sighed, “I really shouldn’t worry.”

He seemed not to sense the sarcasm lying within your words for he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You’ve got me. I won’t let anyone harm you, alright?”

Ah, the vulnerability in a rather cold façade. It’s marvelous to behold. You couldn’t help but smile. Romance books were true, after all. Once an aloof boy shows some affection, it really feels like lying in a field of cotton.

“You have to promise,” you said. Hendery opened his mouth to speak his oath, but you offered him your pinky finger instead. “Lock it.”

Hendery stared at your hand for a good minute before exhaling a ruminative sigh. Then he placed his pinky finger against yours. The both of you entwined your finger in a lock.

“Ah,” he sighsd at the sight of your coiled fingers, “You really are something else.”

If he was talking about the pinkies, you weren’t so sure how did he consider it something else. It was probably childish, yes, but on other spectrum of things, children rarely lies. That somehow strengthened his promise; the childishness yet purity of it all.

“Yes,” you said, a bit proud of the compliment, “I really am.”

You were in an unknown place, hugging the torso of a boy as you rode with him on his motorcycle. The lights of the cars the only lambency there is in an isolated road.

It should bother you— this unfamiliarity clinging in your bones. But all you could feel was the burning sensation of thrill as it flows in your veins; this strange freedom.

The night was a cacophony of rainwater splashing to everything it touches. With your body pressed against Hendery’s back, both of you braved the unforgiving rain. It was surely the night that would go down to your own history.

“Where are we going?” you asked, giving way too little acknowledgement to your soaked clothes and clattering teeth.

A new empty alleyway greeted you as Hendery turned left with his engine the only noise in the dead of the night. White street lights flicker as he slows down, then you come to a halt in front of an empty gasoline station.

Irradiant glow of pink and orange LED lights adorned the signage plastered above the store. At the sides of the vicinity, rows of motel rooms could be seen. Hendery killed the engine, then both of you hop off his motorcycle.

“Wait! I... I don’t have the money—” you tried to argue, but the boy only flashes you his most beautiful smile.

Still smiling, Hendery held your hand and you both ran to the columns of motel rooms. He roamed his eyes everywhere. When he saw no one, Hendery tugged you softly towards the stairs up to the second floor.

Now, there was no light adorning the second floor of the motel. But the glow of the moonlight casted its illumination towards the place, making a slanted shadow on the walls.

“How do we—”

Hendery turned to you and quickly placed a finger to your lips. “Shh,” he shushed.

There was something about the glint in his eyes that made you agitated and even excited. If both were possible to feel at the same time. Mischief oozes its way out of his body as Hendery pulls a piece of a metallic wire from his pockets. He, then, curled the wire with his fingers. Once done, Hendery inserted the wire to the doorknob.

“Hend—”

For the third time, he cut you off. “Trust me.”

In his eyes, something stirred. You caught a glint of it because of the moon. Hendery knows what he was doing, and it looks as if he’s done this a million times already.

You pressed your mouth in a thin line. Rubbing your hands against the skin of your arms, you look around while Hendery works his wonders to the door.

505, that was the number plastered above the doorframe. The room number.

Within a few minutes, there was a click. Then the door opened in front of you to reveal a typical motel room.

There was a bed near the blinds, then a bedside table. A 1960’s model of RCA television sat at the edge of the mattress, with a single ottoman beside it. The room had also been illuminated by a single deep yellow bulb.

It was 2040. Whatever remnants of 2020 remains, it doesn’t look like this. Motel rooms were a thing eighty years ago. However, you couldn’t complain. You have been wanting to sleep in a room such as this one. People can call you hopeless romantic, but that was the truth. There was a certain vintage love surrounding motel rooms which you yearned to experience yourself.

You looked at Hendery, who was currently standing beside you with a rascal grin on his lips. He was definitely proud of what he did. Notwithstanding of the circumstances, and of the fact that you have just sneaked into a private property, you couldn’t help but grin yourself.

This was way out of the rules of being a sacristan. And you would get a whole mass worth of scolding if Father Ben knew about your adventures today. Despite all of that, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of happiness and pride in doing what you did today.

“I assume this isn’t paid?” You raised a brow.

Hendery shook his head with a small chuckle. “Obviously.”

“Aren’t we gonna get in trouble doing all... this?” you asked him, voice laced with skepticism. Bold as you were, the thought of going behind bars in an unknown place still gives your heart a little bit of a jolt.

“We’re already in trouble,” Hendery said nonchalantly, “Might as well enjoy it.” He placed his hand on your shoulders as he searched for your eyes. “Besides, this doesn’t happen all the time.”

You stared at the depths of his orbs. There seemed to be a permanent mark of roguishness dancing in his eyes that you only notice now.

What devilment in an angelic face. Bemusing as it was, you loved it. This Hendery.

“To me,” you said, “But you’re from here. And from

the looks of it, you’ve done this a million times before.”

Hendery’s shoulder shook from his laughter. He laughed so much for someone with sad eyes. “Yes. I won’t deny it. But this isn’t for me, though. This adventure is for you.”

It’s funny how a stranger could give you all you have ever wanted in a single day. By that alone, you knew that you would forever be grateful of this boy in front of you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “So much, Hendery.”

You didn’t know what it was, but Hendery lost his composure as his mouth gaped open a little bit. The sincerity of your voice moved him and made his knees weak.

This has been the first time he heard the words from someone. All he had known were the frightened prayers every time he would point a gun to someone, the muffled cries, the tear stained cheeks. It’s his first time to see sincerity to someone else’s eyes that was meant for him.

Perhaps you have seen it, too— the perplexity in his expression, the slight glitch of his demeanor. And it made your heart happy to see that you have affected him as much as he has affected you.

Hendery leaned closer, his face utterly close that you could make up your reflection in his eyes by the dim light of the light bulb.

He gulped, you did too.

It would deem as if no one amongst you had the experience of this... intimacy. No one had come close to your defenses but him. It rattled your bones underneath. And perhaps the world stilled when your lips met his.

It’s exactly like those in a romantic movie. It wasn’f rash, it wasn’t blistery. It’s soft... it’s heavenly. The kiss would compare to cotton touching another cotton. Both of your eyes were still open as you tried to savor the kiss. You were still thunderstruck beyond comprehension, but your lips were glued to his and there seemed no turning back. Not that you’d like too, anyways.

Hendery cupped your cheeks with his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes. In the blink of a moment, the kiss went wild. Now you would compare it to a sea under a storm. Raging and unforgivable.

You hadn’t noticed how your back had come into contact with the bed. But the surprisingly soft mattress hugged your back as Hendery lays you down slowly.

Your heart had its own business thudding harmoniously wild inside your chest with the kiss.

Hendery pulled away. You felt your plump lips and his had been red, too. With a second of eye contact, Hendery leaned and kissed you again. With the same fervor, with the same hunger.

Your hand shot up to his hair. The sound of someone kissing and your attempts to catch your breaths against the kiss, the only thing that could be heard inside 505.

His hands started to roam your body. His touches were like that of devotees; careful, with little prayers in every friction.

Lips a mere inch from each other, Hendery whispered with a raspy tone. “May I?”

You were here, and you were ready to do whatever this kissing ends up to. So you nodded.

He smiled while the moonlight caressed half of his face.

Then he brought his fingers to the laces of your corsages. With deft motion of a hand, Hendery pulled, the laces had come free, opening your collar bones and upper chests for him to see. The reveal of the skin made your breath hitch.

Hendery brought his fingers to the open skin, then he trailed— slowly, oh so slowly— downwards. As if your skin was Braille.

He kissed you. He whispered his confession in your ears. He touched you like he longed for you. He cried your name in a euphoric bliss.

That night, you weren’t a sacristan. You were a saint. Worshipped by a boy with the devil in his eyes.

But nobody— not even the moonlight slipping through the windows — told you about the doom that awaits your blooming love.

It was past four in the morning when you wake up. The room was dark, with the heavy light from the skies illuminating the floors through the blinds.

Hendery lied on the bed beside you. The light casted parallel lines on his bare chests and stomach. While you laid on your side, your hands between your thighs and a smile on your lips.

Hendery leaned to trace your shoulder up to your cheek, sending goosebumps down your back. Then he whispered the words, “You’re so beautiful.”

You would’ve hit him with a jest, but your breath seems to clogged in your throat. Pure words for someone with jagged edges. Then you suddenly noticed his tattoo. You still didn’t know what that meant. So you reached out your hand and traced his skin.

“What does your tattoo means?” You asked him.

Hendery held your hand that was tracing his tattoo when he answered. “Survive. To live.”

ix. I believe in the Holy Spirit...

“You really don’t have to, Hendery,” you timidly stated.

Hendery sighed, but his smile never disappeared. “You know I won’t let you go, right?”

It’s six a.m., the both of you have already finished donning your clothes. Some parts of the fabrics were still sodden, but nevertheless wearable. You picked up a lone thread from your skirt before standing up and facing the window. The dream was finished, and you needed to wake up now.

A sigh went past your lips as you stared at the horizon displayed before your eyes. You weren’t sure when you would experience this kind of freedom again, so it was better to seize the remaining moments of not being trapped into a cage that was your own house by taking in the view of a small part of the city.

Hendery stood beside you, his eyes far away. “How do you feel?” he asked.

A sudden heat crept up in your cheeks by the question. The unbidden imagery of last night threaded its way back in your mind. Did you regret doing it with Hendery? Not one bit. Some might call you stupid for falling in a love supported by unspoken promises and confessions, but the union with Hendery have made you feel whole somehow. Like you were in the skies, and the stars were about your reach.

He made you feel powerful. He made you feel worthy of devotion. He made you feel utterly you. No inhibitions, no pretense.

The honesty slid smoothly from your lips. “I feel incredible,” you answered. You turned sideways to face him. Hendery’s face was ethereal in the night, especially when his lips were parted, sweats trickling down his face. But as the early light of the morning hit his features, you couldn’t believe that he could even be this more beautiful.

“How about you?” you managed to ask.

A chuckle. Your heart made the familiar jump at the sound. “I’ve never felt this happy for years.” And it was the truth. Hendery thought that the money and power a banditry offers would give completion in his life somehow, that it would serve as stitches for his tattered life. But as he recalled everything that has happened since he met you, he might be stupid, but he knew real happiness when it’s staring back at him in the wee hours of the morning.

He would’ve bottled the sound of your pleas and your cries if he would, he would’ve kept your laughters in a treasure chest buried someplace else he only knew, he would’ve given you everything and anything— and perhaps he did— if he could. As he stared at your face, so goddamned innocent and peaceful, Hendery knew one thing: you would break him into pieces, and he would let you.

A smile painted your lips, erasing the agitation of what this new day would bring. “I wouldn’t have experienced all of this if not for you,” you told him.

Hendery laughed. “You wouldn’t have experienced all of this if you didn’t dare.”

That was him: the beam that was supporting your life. He’s never failed to make you feel as if you could do everything despite the odds.

Your smile widened. “But now we have to go back.”

“Yeah, unfortunately—” Hendery’s words were cut off by the sound of the bedroom door clicking.

Your eyes widened, but he kept a cool façade. Then it swung open, revealing a middle-aged man carrying a broomstick and a dustpan. His forehead creased as he saw you standing near the window, then realization hit him. “Who are you?!” he shouted.

Hendery gripped your hand, then he dashed for the door, pulling you behind him. The helper was too dumbstruck to even say a thing again, let alone stop you from sprinting away. Hendery was laughing all the way down the stairs, while your forehead was coated with little beads of sweat.

When you reached his motorcycle, Hendery let go of your clammy hand. “That was... incredible!” he gleefully stated.

You tried to catch your breath by gulping large bouts of air. “That was scary!” you told him after steadying your breath.

Hendery fished for his keys from the back pocket of his jeans while still laughing. “Sacristan girls,”

he muttered teasingly.

Rolling your eyes heavenwards, you crossed your arms over your chests. “You don’t have to be a sacristan to know what’s scary or not.”

Once again, the roar of the innkeeper echoed across the gasoline station, bringing you on a hurry to climb Hendery’s motorcycle. With a chuckle, he ignited the engine and revved through the day.

The city was deserted early in the morning. And it was undeniably dull. The paint from different buildings were chipped, and they could really use a renovation. You were baffled at how you didn’t notice the dullness yesterday. Perhaps it was your excitement getting the best of you. Humdrum as it was, this city would forever hold a special place in your heart, along with the man you have traveled here with.

The ride back home was enveloped in utter silence, not that you could hear each other over the loud blare of the motorcycle’s engine. And as you neared to the village, your heart couldn’t help but thud abnormally inside your chests. You felt as if your throat was constricting, air passage clogging. It would deem as if there was an apocalypse waiting for you back home.

No. You have to trust your intuitions, no matter how indistinguishable it was. Your mother knew you were safe, there wasn’t anything to fret about.

But you knew better than to calm down. Your father was a lot easier to convince than your mother, you let your heart loosen up by that fact, even just a little bit.

With the empty and bumpy road ahead of you, the familiar stillness of the village welcomed you back home. A sense of familiarity splashed on you at the sight of tall trees and green meadows. This has been what you have known all your life, you were coming back to it after a night of pretermitting.

“Stop right there,” you said in a voice so low even you had a hard time hearing the words.

Hendery knew that you would never allow him to be seen in the village, much worse with you. But after last night, a slight stab in his heart bloomed at the thought of you, not being able to introduce him to your parents just because he rides a shiny-black motorcycle.

And as if you heard his thoughts, you cleared your throat before Hendery could kill the engine on the side road. “Or... you could take me home.”

It was stupid. Imbecilic. A voice inside your head whispered that it was a bad idea, but upon seeing how Hendery’s lips turned to a smile by looking at the side mirror, all your fear had been vanquished. Suddenly, you were ready to face the world again.

Your grip on his shirt tightened as you entered the village. It was mid-morning. There were a few elders fanning themselves in their verandas under the blistering weather. They squinted at the sight of you, a sudden contempt in their lips which they conveyed as a frown.

“Turn left,” you mumbled, praying that he heard you just right.

By the silence that was unusual of Hendery to exude, you have contemplated that maybe he was nervous, too. The thought made you slightly giddy and anxious at the same time. You have never brought a man home. Not even introduce a boy friend to your parents. Just when you thought that last night would be a history of your own, this morning has proved you wrong.

Your stomach was empty, but you felt like retching in the bushes as Hendery stopped the engine in front of your house. Mother was tending to her flowers when you hopped off the motorcycle. Father was nowhere to be found.

You looked at Hendery before sauntering towards your mother. The rustle of your feet against the grasses garnered her attention. She looked up to see you, then to the boy beside you.

You walked up towards her to kiss her cheek. Mother stood still as your lips made a friction against her skin. She was looking straight at Hendery, who had a polite smile on his face.

You cleared your throat. “Mother, this is Hendery.”

Hendery stretched out his hand to your mother. “Hendery Wong, pleased to meet you.”

Mother stared at his outstretched hand for seconds. Your knees started to wobble. Then Mother took Hendery’s hand. “I’ll prepare the food,” she said, the tone unfathomable.

When she attempted to leave, Hendery quickly raised his arms as if to stop your mother. “It’s fine, Mrs. I just dropped Y/N off.” He looked at you and nodded his head. “See you at the Church, Y/N,” he said.

Your lips coiled in a frown. The atmosphere was thick, and there was no doubt Hendery felt it. Your mother could’ve been warmer in greeting him, but you knew better than anyone else than to force the time when it obviously wasn’t ready.

With a tone of both reluctance and slight disappointment, you mumbled, “See you.”

He nodded one last time before turning his back and getting on his motorcycle.

The same time Hendery revved the engine once more, your father went out of the house with a glass of cold water in hand. “What’s that about?” he asked.

The garden shovel your mother was holding was dropped as she focused her attention towards you. You braced yourself for the imminent storm that was coming. And there it was, in a voice so loud even the houses nearby grew hairs and got goosebumps, your mother cried out, “What on earth are you thinking?!”

Father sipped on his water, his brows arching above the rim. There was no accusation in his eyes, only interest and confusion.

“What do you mean, Mother?” You tried to make your voice sound strong, but it came out as a breathy question.

“What do I mean?!” she roared. “Where were you last night? Tell me the truth.”

Truth be spoken, you were utterly rebellious to neglect your mother last night. But the wanting to experience something greater for once has overcome all your senses. Was it really abhorrent to experience such freedom?

You could feel your veins popping up your temple. Your breath was becoming ragged. And the stubbornness that was trying to envelope you didn’t help. It felt like a bomb ready to explode at any given moment.

“Where have you been—”

“The city!” you screamed back. “I went to the city with Hendery!”

Mother looked at you with a tormented face. From the way her mouth hung open with her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, you could tell that she’s beyond horrified by the revelation.

“How dare you?” she whispered, “How dare you lie to me?”

Father was on her side instantly, laying a gentle hand on her back. “We all need to calm down—”

“Calm down?!” Mother turned to face him. “You’d expect me to calm down when my own daughter defied me?”

You bit your lower lip. What was the big deal? What the fuss was all about? It wasn’t as if you didn’t come home. Here you were, safe and sound.

“I’m sure Y/N could explain herself, right?” Father raised an encouraging brow at you. His lack of judgement pierced your heart with a throb.

“Yeah,” Mother said with enough scorn to make you recoil. “Let her narrate everything!”

You tried to catch your breath before forcing your face to look up to your parents. “What’s so wrong about going to the city?”

“Oh, you are one naive girl,” Mother stated as she made noises in her nose. “You could’ve been infected! You could’ve brought danger into this home!”

“Mother!” you hissed. “The pandemic has already disappeared! I want to live a normal life now!”

Mother looked at you as if you weren’t her daughter but a mere stranger she’s picked a fight with. “Why are you so foolish and stubborn?”

“Why can’t you let me live my life?” you retorted.

“That’s enough,” Father warned with a commanding tone. His jaw was pulled taut. One more push and the three of you would burn right where you stood because of vexation.

Mother heed no warning for she continued to look at you as if she was contemplating to push you back to her womb. “I’m keeping you safe.”

“Safe?” You could almost laugh. “I don’t want safe.” I want freedom. I want danger. I want the sin. I want the rush.

“That’s enough talking back, Y/N. Return to your room and change,” Father commanded.

Mother’s lips were compressed in a tight line. You’ve expected her to say something, but no words were heard from her as Father guided her back to the house.

You were left alone in the garden, with your neighbors peeking at their fences to catch gossips.

You wish this world had been a little bit forgiving, a little bit welcoming for boys like him. He wasn’t cruel. He was kind... he was protective. And he was a tether to the dreams that you tried so hard to achieve. Without Hendery— the only person who believed that you were meant for greater things— you wouldn’t know what to make of your life anymore. Sure, you would get back on your feet. But you would never want to feel alone in the battle again. You didn’t want to start empty again. And you would never wish to be parted from Hendery. Ever.

x. The Holy Catholic Church…

“Oh, look who’s finally arrived,” Kun uttered with a shit-eating grin as Hendery appeared in the abandoned building Kun made a rendezvous in the outskirts of the town.

For weeks, they stayed and made their camp here. With Kun occupying the last and only good-conditioned room in the building. There, he’s beaten by Hendery for apparently mowing down Xiaojun’s jaw.

The grin Kun had on his face intrigued Hendery, but he wouldn’t let it show on his face. With inquisition was an annoyance Hendery didn’t know where he came from. It was just there, crawling on his skin. Perhaps it was his encounter with your mother, and the lack of warmth in her welcome.

But could he blame her? Not one bit. Hendery didn’t even think of meeting someone else’s parents and being introduced as a lover, but after getting chummy with you, his aspirations in life went a little higher than what he deserved. Hendery knew that it was a bad thing to be zealous, but that was what he had known after joining Kun’s banditry.

“What’s going on?” he asked, albeit not having the heart to inquire in the first place.

After a day and night with you, Hendery yearned for one thing: sleep. He just couldn’t close his eyes when you were lying on his side, with your peaceful face and soft snores. Hendery wanted to capture every moment, to memorize each line of your face, to be drowned in the serenity of the night.

His other comrades were nowhere to be found which was new. At this time of the day, all of them needed to report their sleuthing of a certain area assigned to them. Kun wanted to know everything.

Kun’s grin only widened. “How’s your job, Hen?”

Hendery ran a hand through his hair. “I’m still trying to make my way onto the priest’s chamber.”

Kun sat up on the swivel chair and placed his feet on the table laid before him. “If I’m not mistaken,” he started, “It’s been months since I sent you to the Church. And until now, you still don’t have anything useful to tell me.”

Hendery’s jaw twitched. He hated how he’s inclined to answer every Kun’s calls. And he had never felt this way before towards his work, that was if you could call banditry a job. He was always the best. That made him Kun’s favorite. But that was before he met you.

Meeting you really had changed most of his beliefs about life. He’s almost convinced to let go of his wretched ways and have a normal way of living— a life he could be proud of. And a life with you.

“Father Ben’s strict,” Hendery lied. The priest was as kind as a deer. If Hendery wished to enter his chamber, he’d gladly let him out of his trusting nature. And that would be the end as well as the start of everything. Hendery still wasn’t prepared to drop the new life he has, because that would mean he has to let you go, too. The mere thought made his stomach recoil.

“Strict?” Kun asked as he raised a playful brow. “But you’re my best asset, Hen. There is no ‘strict’ when it comes to you.”

If these were normal times, Hendery would’ve smirked by the compliment. But he knew what Kun meant. And he’s heard the warning even if it was unspoken.

Months ago, Hendery and Sicheng started searching for places to rob in the isolated villages near the local market. Until they had come across the Church. Upon their nightly visit and hawkshawing, Hendery found out that Father Ben has a golden necklace. The thing has become their target ever since. However, you wouldn’t see Father Ben taking the necklace off. Hendery won’t be able to steal it without violence.

He would’ve finished the work sooner than intended. Besides, he knew brutality like the back of his hand. It had become his armor through the years. And Father Ben didn’t hold a special place in his life, no matter how nonjudgmental the priest was. He could easily wrench the necklace away from his neck without any remorse. But he feared you.

The thought of failing you, of disappointing you, and of showing Hendery’s true colors to you has left his courage dwindling.

What cowardice. He would’ve punched himself unconscious if he could. Hendery wasn’t familiar to this kind of weakness, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Hendery shifted on his seat, shaking off the tension from his body. “The priest was surprisingly guarded,” he lied once more. Father Ben was as permeable as the Church itself. It was Hendery’s own choices that the work has slowed down.

Kun hummed. He withdrew something from his drawers. Picture, Hendery noticed, but he was too tired to even think about its connection to the current discussion. “Perhaps you need some boosters to help you do the work.” Then Kun slowly placed the picture flat on his table. Hendery couldn’t see the image well for he was leaning back on his seat. Kun waved his hand. “Look.”

He knitted his brows together. Whatever it was, Hendery had a bad feeling that once he leaned, there would be no turning back. Nevertheless, he didn’t have much choice, did he? So he leaned, like a good boy that he was, and stared at the image.

Hendery bit back the sound which tried to echo from him at what the image displayed. It was his mother. On a hospital bed, looking withered and close to death. She was too frail. Too weak.

Hendery swallowed a sob. “How...” He gulped a few times before willing himself to continue. “How did you find her?”

Should he be rejoicing? He should be happy, right? But why did he feel miserable now more than ever?

“I told you. I’ll help you find her,” Kun said.

Hendery kept looking at the picture, afraid that it might disappear if he blinked. “Where is she?”

Kun chuckled then stood up. Hendery fought the urge to grab him and punch his face. “You act as if you don’t know how to play this game, Wong.” Kun’s fingers grabbed the edge of the picture. He tucked it inside his pocket, his grin never leaving his face.

Hendery bit the insides of his cheeks. Of course, he knew how this game works. “I’ll bring you the necklace tomorrow.”

That night, Hendery washed away the sleep by downing cups of coffee. The liquid takes its root inside his system, pumping blood in a pace that would keep him awake.

He sat on his made-up bed, with a lamplight beside him, providing little to no warmth against the cold. With a white silky towel in hand, Hendery wiped his handgun. It had been a while since he last pulled the trigger. And the weight was dead in his hand.

Perhaps there was no more redemption left for his torn soul. Perhaps he was only fooling himself in believing that his life could be better. Perhaps he was glued to violence and not even you could save him from it. No matter how hard he tries to believe that you could.

xi. The communion of Saints. The forgiveness of sins…

A knock on your door woke you from your trance. You realized you were looking at your reflection on the mirror mindlessly.

“Come in,” you said, clearly indifferent to the possibility that it might be your mother standing and knocking on the other side of the door. But you knew better. She would never raise the white flag for her daughter.

With one last sweep of your hands along your robes, you waited for your father to finally enter. When he did, he went straight to the bed and sat. He’s cornered you, there was no escaping from it now.

“Spill it, Father,” you mumbled, trying to sound as friendly as possible. It was enough that you have stretched your mother’s irascibility. You didn’t need another enemy in this house.

“You do know why mother’s angry with you, right?” he asked. Before you could answer, he continued, “It’s not just about the fact that you went home with a boy. And that you went to the city without telling us.”

A sighed. Then you whirled to face him. “I don’t understand her need to be angry. I am safe. And if she’s talking about the pandemic... I am alright, Father.”

It was Father’s turn to sigh. “I don’t have anything against you going to the city. I know your dreams, your aspirations. But you must understand that your mother’s protective of you because she loves you. And the pandemic isn’t gone. It’s there, we just don’t see it now since its effects have died down.”

You looked out the window, feeling as if your tears might betray you anytime. “I just want to experience life.”

Father walked up to you and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I know. Hell, I want you to live life to the fullest, too. Have fun, have mistakes. Kiss boys. Be crazy. But it isn’t the time. Your mother’s still not ready.”

With tears brimming, you looked up to your father. “And when would she be?”

Father smiled his kindest one. “Soon, darling.”

—

Your walking towards the church was occupied with birds chirping in the branches, and flowers blossoming in the meadows. Perhaps it will be a bright day despite the darkness of yesterday.

Hendery never left your mind, even though you have a lot to think about. He was etched in your brain, like some sort of a tattoo you wouldn’t be able to erase. That made you think whether he was thinking about you, too.

You shrugged the thoughts away as you arrived at the Church. It was unusually silent when you arrived. At this time of day, the other sacristan should be running around and helping clean the surroundings. It didn’t settle well with you.

“Kristan!” you called out when you saw him running towards Father Ben’s chamber. Is the priest sick?

Kristan halted to wait for you. You huffed a breath as you laid your hand on his shoulder. “Where is everyone?”

The little boy bit the insides of his cheek. He didn’t meet your eyes when he said, “At Father Ben’s chamber.”

“What are they doing there? And what’s that for?” you asked, regarding the white and clean towel he was holding. Instead of answering, Kristan held your hand and pulled you towards the priest’s chamber.

The little bedroom was jam packed with the sacristans occupying most of the spaces. Father Ben was sitting on his rocking chair, with what you could tell was an ice-cube inside a clean towel being pressed on his left cheek by Lucy.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “What happened here?” you asked particularly no one.

Father Ben winced. “I am alright, hija,” he said. But he looked nothing like that.

Lucy glared your way. Her eyes were full of accusations. “Hendery did this to him,” she practically spat out the words with venom.

Now you couldn’t even feel your heart anymore. Hendery did this? How? Why? Despite feeling numb, you stepped closer to Father Ben. “Hendery... did this?”

How... Why... Gods, why? Father Ben looked at Lucy’s way, then the latter pursed her lips. She washed the cloth into the nearest basin, therefore allowing you to see the cut in Father’s cheekbone.

“He... punched me earlier,” Father Ben said in a low voice. He was undeniably pained by what happened. You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, let alone react to something other than a thunderstruck expression. “And he stole my necklace.”

By that, you grabbed the nearest chair and sat. You placed your hand between your chest. This is all too much. Your bones felt like collapsing. “The... the necklace your mother gave you?” you asked this without looking at him. It was hard to do that when you feel responsible for everything that has happened.

No, it isn’t right to hurt yourself like this. But Hendery has been with you since day one. If he planned something as horrible as this, you would’ve known. You should’ve known. How could you be so stupid?

“Yes,” Father Ben breathed as he absentmindedly reached for his necklace. As far as you could tell, the necklace was given to him by his mother when he was little. It was an heirloom of sorts. A treasured legacy.

“How could he do this?” Lucy interrupted. “We welcomed him here. Believing that he was good.”

“It was another thing to steal. And another to hurt someone to rob them,” Rei added.

You really couldn’t blame them. You were in absolute shock to even argue and pretend that Hendery was better than this. They wouldn’t tell you he was the culprit if he wasn’t, right? God, you couldn’t breathe.

“I think he’s a bandit,” Lucy stated once more.

With that, you looked up at her. “That is a grave accusation to make, Lucy.” Now, you are even making excuses for Hendery. You could laugh from your own imbecility.

“Yes. I know,” she said. Then she stood tall. “But what would you have me call him? A grave man deserves a grave name.”

“Perhaps he has his reasons.” Your voice sounded uncertain. For you have no idea what could be the reason behind all this..

Lucy sniggered. “I used to think you were reasonable, Y/N. Don’t stoop so low. He’s hit Father Ben. He’s robbed him. Whatever reason he might have, it was wrong.”

You fell silent. Lucy speaks the truth. Hendery has done something hideous. He could be a bandit all along. He could be the one who’s been robbing the villagers off their small riches all this time. And yet… how? How could he smile at you like he could replace an angel in heaven? How could you be so naive and stupid?

Without your own realization, you have run away from the Church already. To where? You have no idea. But you needed to free the tightening rope inside your chest— you need to salvage your heart off a heartache. Seeing Father Ben dispirited, as well as your co-sacristans, have shot a bullet to your heart.

You felt ashamed and wounded. But before mending your own wounds, you have to search for Hendery first.

xii. The resurrection of the body...

Million thoughts ran in Hendery’s mind as he looked at the emaciated body of his mother lying in a hospital bed. A glass separates them both, but he felt far away to her now than before. She was looking so frail— as if her bones would snap if you did so much as to hold her hand in a featherweight touch.

Her situation pierced Hendery’s heart with a sword. It didn’t matter that he’d found her now. He doesn’t feel happiness for this accomplishment. Misery. Hate. And that hole of missing his mother for years were the only things he could coax himself to feel.

Perhaps he was too far gone because of his loathsome heart. Or perhaps it was because of the teenager standing beside his mother’s bed, sobbing his heart out, while a middle-aged man pats his back to soothe him. As much as Hendery didn’t want to admit it, he could see the same nose and lips that he’s got from his mother in the boy to even deny the truth. He’s his brother. Half-brother.

He balled his hand into fist. Sudden heat coated Hendery’s tear ducts. He swept the lone tear away with his jacket-sleeve. He’s accepted the truth before— he’s made peace of the fact that his mother abandoned him. But why does it hurt to look the truth in the face? She’s cared and loved another son while Hendery longed for her embrace. She’s fed another mouth while Hendery starved in the streets.

Why must the world be cruel?

Hendery stepped back and sat on the chair beside the glass window. He made himself as unimposing as possible until the father and son departed the room. Hendery gathered himself and walked towards the door, towards his mother.

“A... Alec, is that—” Her mouth abruptly clamped shut as she realized who was standing before her. Without another word, her shoulder shook and there were tears in her eyes.

Hendery looked up, biting his lip. He won’t cry. He won’t cry. He won’t cry. “Come on, mom,” he stammered. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me for a long time, right?” Then he looked at her. She was coughing and sobbing now. Hendery had to help her sit up to give her some water.

“Is that really you?” she asked, thin fingers crawling at Hendery’s cheek. Her hand was cold. But it gave Hendery the warmth he was searching for. “Son,” she choked, “I’m sorry.”

Her voice was too weak. Hendery felt like he shouldn’t let her talk. So he shushed her instead. “I...” he stuttered, “I hate you, mom.” That’s it. He won’t hold back. He needs to say it. “I hate you so much. You left me. You left me to die.”

If her mother looked thunderstruck, her sunken eyes didn’t show it. “Hendery, son, I didn’t—”

“I became a bandit to survive. I kill now, mom. I kill so I can live. I kill so I can find you. I’ve asked myself a million times whether it was your fault I became like this.” Hendery snorted at the end. “But it was of my own choice so I couldn’t really blame you, could I? I chose this path to survive.

“I learned how to hold a gun because I need it. I’ve robbed people for money. For my own glory. For you. You left me in the dust. And all my life I’ve wondered why. Why did she leave me? Didn’t she love me? But I’ve thought about it and realized that I don’t need answers. I just need to see you.”

Her mother sobbed again. “I’m sorry, son, I’m sorry— I was scared.”

“Scared,” Hendery repeated. “We would’ve been fine together, mom. You and I.”

“I know,” she choked. “But when your father died— I was scared of the reality that we were alone. During a pandemic. The both of you were hanging on for your lives inside the ICU. And I’d nearly lost my mind.

“When he died, I didn’t have the chance to say good bye. They took him and burned his body. I was alone. Alone, thinking that you could be the next one they’d burn and I won’t have the chance to see your beautiful face for the last time. Instead of facing it all, I called your Aunt. When she came, I left.”

Hendery wanted to tell every abuse he’s gone through with his Aunt. But he didn’t want to remember those times, and he didn’t want to add into his mother’s guilt.

“I’m dying, son,” she whispered.

That, Hendery could tell. There’s a pang in his heart, yes, but he knew that there won’t be happy endings for bad people like him. All of us die in the end, however.

“I’m happy to see you,” she said, “It’s all I’ve ever wished to God every night.”

God. Is this what it feels like to know that someone has been praying for you? He felt... empty. Like everything is too late. The wound has been crawling with worms and there’s no more gauges to stop the pus.

“Do they... know me?” Hendery asked, voice low.

Her mother pursed her lips together. “No. I haven’t told them about you.”

Of course, Hendery muttered in his mind. He stood up, smoothed his shirt with a forced smile and looked down at his mother. “I’ll better be going, then.”

“Where are you going? Hendery, son...”

Hendery placed his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I am fine.” Far from it, but you didn’t need to know that, he thought.

His mother’s eyes were red-rimmed, thus accentuating how sunken they’ve become. “Can you... give me a hug?”

Hendery blinked as he did not expect such favor. But he leaned forwards absentmindedly, and hug his mother tightly. He first heard his own sob before realizing that he was crying like a little boy in his mother’s arms. This wasn’t the reunion he had in mind. He thought they could still reunite and make a life together. Be away from people. Hendery thought he would take care of his mother until she’s grey and old.

But life has other cruel plans. The path has been twisted years ago. And whatever he could get from this hug, it is enough.

It would be enough.

With an empty mind, Hendery drove through the night. He didn’t know where to go. His mind has been blank since his visit to the hospital.

What does he feel? Fuck, what does he feel? He felt ashamed. For everything that’s happened today. From the way he cornered and punched Father Ben just to get his necklace. He wanted to blur and erase the shame. He wanted to disappear.

Hendery revved the engine. Faster and faster, he drove without destination. The wind got harsher, the night still dangerous. He couldn’t take his mind off Kun’s smile when he finally handed him the golden necklace. Kun tapped his back and congratulated him, his eyes twinkling like stars. Hendery never wanted to see the same sparkle in the man’s eyes anymore.

Then his mind drifted to you. Knuckle white around the accelator, Hendery bottled up the scream that has threatened to explode from him. You. With your kind smile and angelic face. You’re so good. And Hendery let you down. For once, he met someone who was willing to accept his flaws and every bad thing about him. But he answered you with claws.

So after all the disgrace, why did he stop in front of your house?

The village was quiet. No more lights could be seen inside the house. A further indication that you are already asleep. Despite that, Hendery found himself walking towards the small alleyway leading to your room. There’s a tree, beside your window. Hendery hesitated for a moment whether he would knock on your window to wake you up. Besides, he has been reckless with his decisions and he didn’t need you to think of him as a creep.

However, he stood a few meters away from the window. And there, all his muscles strained. He was locked up in his place as his eyes met yours. Donned in your nightgown, you stood there looking outside. Your own eyes turned wide as you realized that Hendery was standing if not in front of you.

He gulped, then quickly pivoted on his heels to walk away. No. He isn’t ready to talk to you tonight. The shame was too overwhelming for him to ignore.

“Hendery!” you screamed, and that would’ve been enough to wake the whole house.

Hendery’s steps faltered.

“Wait for me,” you uttered just enough for him to hear.

He sucked in a breath. No. He couldn’t do this. But before he could decide to run away, a hand tugged him. Hendery faced you. You had your hand in your chest as you tried to calm your breath.

“Y/N,” he whispered. Here you were, standing in front of him under the pale moonlight. Everything would’ve been romantic if not for the circumstances.

“Hendery.” You say his name like he’s good. Like he deserves forgiveness. Why?

“I…” he stammered, “I did something hideous.”

He expected you to accuse him. To shout at him. But all you did was to hold his hand. “Why?”

Hendery’s hand abruptly trembled. He bit his lower lip so hard, it bled. “My mother,” he choked. “Y/N… I saw her. Everything is for her.” He couldn’t stop his sniveling no matter how he try to stop it. In between sobs, Hendery told you what happened, his hand never letting go of yours. The shame that he’s felt has been obliterated clean. He didn’t even care about the tears rolling down his cheeks.

After he opened himself up to you, you reached for him and hugged his body tightly. Hendery fought the urge to cry again. So he hugged you back instead, drowning in your scent.

When you pulled back, there’s a lone tear sliding down your cheek. Hendery wiped it away with his thumb, cupping your cheek with his cold hand.

“Now. This is what we’ll do,” you began.

xiii. And life everlasting…

You paced in front of the altar, trying your hardest to contain your heart inside your chest. It’s been at least twenty-four hours since you last saw Hendery. Your mind would explode thinking of what could’ve happened to him now. He’s supposed to come back an hour later.

You started to think that maybe it was a stupid plan all along. But you couldn’t blame him. He wanted to redeem himself to Father Ben, albeit it’s hard doing so. And he really didn’t plan to do exactly that. Hendery only wanted to return the necklace.

After his visit last night, where in he told you all that has transpired between him and his mother, you told him how important the necklace was for Father Ben. It is an heirloom, given by his mother.

You tried to coax Hendery that he should go to church and ask for Father Ben’s forgiveness. And yet he insisted that he would return the necklace. No matter what happens.

No matter what happens. That didn’t sit well with you.

In the end, you couldn’t argue with him anymore. He was determined to prove himself: that he’s worthy of good things and of forgiveness. Such raw emotions. It made you cry.

You agreed to meet here in the Church. Hendery says it’s safer this way. It is still the house of God, according to him. No one would attempt to harm you here.

You faced the altar and knelt, but before you could chant the first prayer, the latch of the door sounded. Hurriedly, you stood up on your feet.

In the dark, the silhouette of Hendery was drawn. He limped towards you while clutching something in his hand. You ran towards him, relief flooding your system. Tears pricked your eyes by how at ease you’ve felt by seeing him.

“Hendery!” you squealed and hugged him tightly.

He chuckled weakly before pulling away. “Here,” he says. “For Father…” Then he coughed. He coughed. With blood spurting out of his mouth. Your heart dropped on your feet. No.

Before you could think, Hendery fell to the floor, kneeling. Bouts of cough attacked his throat.

“Hendery,” you sobbed, “What happened?” You knelt in front of him, holding his shoulders to support his frail body.

“This is nothing,” he tried to say, but the world were muffled.

Panicking won’t help. So you strived to remain calm although your heart was beating jarringly inside your ribcage. And in the end, you sobbed and cried. “Help!” you cried out with all your might. “Help us! Hendery!”

You locked Hendery’s arm around your shoulder and hurled yourself up. But his weight was dead and he doesn’t seem to be doing well. “Hendery, please!” You were a crying mess. Vision blurry, throat wrapped up in pins and thorns and needles. You placed your arm around his waist and tried to hurl him up for the second time, but Hendery screamed in pain as you made contact with his side.

He fell to the ground.

And there was too much blood.

Blood. You stared at your trembling hands.

“No!” you screamed. “Hendery!” You sat and scooped him up in your arms, tears streaming down your face to his. “Stay with me! God!”

Hendery’s eyes were drooping now. They look like crystals, frantic and wild. “I…” He coughed. Blood came out of his mouth again.

You shushed him, brushing away his hair sticking to his forehead. His skin was feverish. You choked again and again, trying to gulp down your cries. “Stay. With. Me.” You give emphasis to each word. “Hendery! No! No! Stay awake! Please!” You even started to slap his cheeks just to keep his eyes open.

Then his bloodied hand found your cheek. You sobbed as it made contact with your skin. “You…” he uttered under his breath, “you’re... so beautiful.” Hendery flashed you a smile. His teeth coated with blood.

“Please.” You bit your lower lip. “Stay with me.”

Hendery stared at your face, tears streaming down from his eyes. “So…” he whispered again, drawing circles on your cheek, “... beautiful.”

Then his hand fell.

Hendery spent his last breath with you. In front of the altar. With God your only witness that night.

Amen.

120 notes · View notes